Mother To Grandmother

It's been a long time since I've written  ... (And, I just realized that TODAY is ironically the anniversary of my last grandparent's passing, 24 years ago when I was pregnant with the child who brought about this writing. Then again ... maybe it's NOT ironic or coincidental!)

Anyway, This blog is very near and dear to my heart. No one could have prepared me for my thoughts and/or feelings ... just as I cannot prepare another. Possibly, we all process this transition differently?

All of my adult life, I've been "a mother." It's ALL I have EVER known or wanted to be. However, as of August 18, 2022 at 1:35 pm, that changed. My youngest daughter gave birth to her first child, my grandson ... and I became a "grandmother." This is a completely different world. Life as I've known it has changed forever.💙 The Love you feel for your grandchild is equivalent to the love you feel for your own child… EXCEPT, you are not fully responsible. You do not HAVE to change diapers, have sleepless nights or sore body parts.🙌🏻 

I recently started back going to a counselor, (before my Grandbaby was born,) and I told her, maybe I'm being too positive ... but I feel a dramatic, positive change is about to occur in my life ... within me. A change that simply happens by default. (Because in all honesty, I feel like the guy in the Bible who wandered in the desert, lost, for 40 years… I feel like him, only for 10 years instead.) Back to the topic, I believe life (birth) and death change us forever. We are never the same after losing a loved one OR after having a child/grandchild. Our perspectives change. Things that were important don't seem so important anymore. It just happens when our family dynamic changes. We literally become different. Our focus changes.

I've given thought to my own parents and grandmothers. Their legacies. The memories they left behind that I still hold. (I only had one living grandfather, but he died when I was about six years old. Therefore, my memories are less.). 

I try to live a very intentional life and think about who I want to be, how I want to be remembered ... As well as things I do NOT want to be or do.

Truthfully, I was more physically and mentally exhausted after my daughter gave birth than either time I gave birth ... and I didn't even push the baby out! My sponge was so full trying to process it all. The transition. The concern for my child and her baby. Wondering if I could do my job correctly ... especially being and doing what SHE needed from her mother. Trying to wrap my head around how different this is from having my own child. Making sure I did enough, but not too much.

Most of the time, I don't feel like a/the typical "mom." I suppose I feel less. But through this process, I have arrived to/at a place of peace ... No matter what I did/do right or wrong ... there is ONE thing that is a truth ...

Maybe my children don't act, react, say or do things I'd like or expect to me ... Here is a FACT: There is one person in this world who will stop EVERYTHING and do ANYTHING at ANY GIVEN MOMENT with every cell and fiber within for those two girls of mine. And I am that person. I have proven it and in my heart, I feel (hope) they KNOW it is a truth.

To have someone who will do ANYTHING under ANY circumstance is a valuable thing to have when needed. I am not a wealthy woman financially ... but my children and grandchildren will NEVER need for ONE thing as long as this Mama/Momma's heart is still beating and there is still a breath within me. THAT is a CERTAINTY. One that gives me peace. One that calms my often times unruly thoughts.

I am grateful for the season of being a mother… Which I still am their mother! BUT I have now entered a new phase of this life… And it is one that has GIVEN me life in a way that I never knew was possible. It's crazy to think ... I thought my purpose here was completed and over. Now I'm thinking ... Maybe it's not!

Blessings,

Kasi/Sparkle/Gemma

 I'LL LOVE YOU FROM AFAR 

I had a dream about you last night ... and in it ... you died. 

I can't seem to shake one part of it, which was how much I cried! 

Even though crying usually comes with death, as though they are a pair ...

I have made grand efforts to convince myself that if you died, I would TRY not to care. 

That sounds so very harsh, and few could comprehend. 

But they don't understand, YOU do not want me close, not even as a distant friend. 

It's painful chasing someone for so many years, as I have chased you ...

Trying to receive and capture the love and acceptance that I never knew. 

Each time, I tried harder ... and it only pissed you off more. 

A rejection that will break even the strongest ... stripped down to the core. 

Harsh things you've said and you've told me you meant every single word. 

"How are you and the girls? What's going on in your life? Do you need anything?" are questions from you I've never heard. 

However, you have assured me of the terrible person I am ... many, many times. 

Making most any and every thing I've ever said or done, "unforgivable crimes."

If I saw the person in myself that you proclaim to see,

I would be certain, there is no one in this world who is worse than me. 

And a "happy ending to my life," ... there would not be. 

Do you know or understand what I'm saying? Do you even care?

I'd be 6 ft under by now because I wouldn't have a prayer. 

Too dramatic you say? I'm being "ridiculous and over-the-top."

No, it's what happens when people can't find a way to make emotional pain stop. 

I can hear you now, "That's your choice and your problem, not mine."

Believe me, I know it is, and in spite of you, I'll be fine. 

Still, I tried to do better, BE better and win your love for many years. 

I was never successful in my efforts, and shed lots of tears. 

The fact that I've cried so much over this has not helped one bit. 

It only made me look weaker, made you angrier and give even less of a shit. 

I definitely do not make your life better, in fact, I only make it worse. 

You've literally assured me of bad things to come my way, a genuine curse. 

I can't imagine declaring, hoping and wishing tragedy to come another's way. 

Kind of proves the old rule about holding your tongue if you can think of nothing nice to say. 

That tongue is a weapon sharper than any sword or knife. 

An emotional dagger searing through the heart and brain, leaving scars for life. 

Once those terrible words are said, they can never be taken back. 

In fact, they become the heaviest luggage ... one you can never unpack. 

Over the years, I've worked really hard to accept things and "let it go," as you've often said. 

Unhealthy boundaries with others, hours in counseling, and countless books I have read.

Several times I slipped up, thinking, "I'll try it just one more time and maybe it will be different. 

Always holding on to hope that the bad will magically disappear and all will be magnificent!

There is one thing we can agree on and where we see eye to eye, 

That fairytale brain of mine needs a swift kick goodbye. 

Things are the way they are, and I will likely never understand or know why. 

However, now I know, there may never come a day that it doesn't still make me cry. 

I've done well coping in everyday life, but one cannot control the state of sleeping. 

I woke up early this morning ... sweating, panicked, upset, sad and weeping. 

I got out of bed to get away from it, but it still seemed and felt so real. 

It caught me by surprise because that's not how I thought or expected I'd feel. 

I have pondered, wondered and worried about when that day comes and what I'm supposed to do.

I've even went so far as to communicate this concern ... ask questions, and tried to talk to you. 

That went the same as usual - no solution, no progress made. 

It was nothing more than another painful slide down that razor sharp blade. 

After that, I decided to put all of my effort into not caring and walking away. 

Pretending that when you left this earth, I will have the strength to act like it's just another day. 

Possibly, I will actually feel better in some strange, distorted way?

Death would be the excuse you could not see me or call on my birthday. 

But this morning I feel different, and I have a heavy heart. 

After so much progress to move forward, now I'm back at the start. 

I'm sure the thought was in my subconscious because of a discussion from last night. 

Just another reminder that even when I feel certain about things, it doesn't mean I'll be right. 

I can still feel my grief and sadness from that dream ... or rather, nightmare. 

I think it's how it would actually be if you died ... a very unusual feeling of despair. 

You were sick, the end was drawing near ... I cried and was so very sad. 

Not for what was about to be lost, but for what I never had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can't even call and tell you about it, because some part of it will make you upset. 

I can't come to your house because you haven't given me your address yet. 

I know how you feel about me, you've made it more than clear. 

I promise I heard every word, they are forever etched in my ear. 

But, for some reason, I still wish upon that star in the night sky. 

A star I can't even see because it's hidden behind thick clouds ... invisible to the human eye. 

THIS ... This is my only option and all that I can do. 

Sit down with myself, WRITE my thoughts and feelings instead of trying to talk to you. 

I will never understand, it will never make sense. 

You will never hear my pleas, only take offense. 

How I wish I could have obtained your closely guarded time, attention, love and pride. 

Since you couldn't see the good in me or feel my love while you were here, I hope you will on the other side. 

For now, today, I will need to focus on getting over the negative feelings inside. 

Feelings of sadness, rejection, resentment and anger ... all ones I try to hide. 

IF you cared and wanted to know why, here's what I'd say,

"I love you, but I loathe that you've forced it to be this way. 

I wanted to live a life with no regrets, and you took that away. 

I think I'll always wonder if there was something else I could have done. 

Something that could have given me hope when there was none. 

I promise, I would have done it, if I had the key to that door. 

I would have loved to have known each other better and done so much more. 

I don't want the ending to be like my dream ... it hurts my heart. 

But maybe we will finally be closer in spirit when we are actually physically apart. 

I will hold on to that and take what I can get. 

And when I look back at my efforts, I really do NOT feel regret. 

I wish I knew what to do, but no choice I make will be right. 

If I tried to talk to you here, it only would have ended in yet, another fight. 

Honestly, even if you came to me now, I think I'd be too scared and likely run away. 

Too scared of what may happen next, or what you would say. 

It's not a risk I'm willing to take ... I want no more future pain and bad memories being made. 

Let's just stick with the dues we've both already paid. 

There will be two goodbyes for us when it's all said and done ...

Neither could possibly be more silent or louder than the other one. 

Today, I'm sending love to you wherever you are. 

And as I have had to do for many years, I'll continue to always love you, but it's best from afar."

Kasi M. Bryon

(C) July 2021

If you can relate to this poem, I see you… And I am sorry. Maybe read my post before this one about the tree growing out of a rock!💪🏻❤️

Miracles ... Shelby, Cheryl, Tim ... A Quarantine Read

“A Miracle”
What exactly makes something a miracle or miraculous? I suppose that’s up to each one of us since one’s perception is one’s reality.
Does a miracle have a time limit? Can it be an occurrence that only lasts a second? A minute? An hour? A day/week/month/year? Or must it stick for eternity and always “be” in order to be declared “the big M word?”
What about when a miracle, or miracleS happen in the midst of tragedy? Does that make them MORE miraculous? Or does it diminish their “miracleness?”
Again, it’s your call to you, my call to me.

-By definition (vocabulary.com): A miracle is an event so marvelous that it seems like it was sent from above.
Miracle, a noun meaning “amazing or wonderful occurrence,” comes from the Latin word miraculum, “object of wonder.” Dig way back and the word derives from smeiros, meaning “to smile,” which is exactly what you do when a miracle happens.-

I certainly smiled while writing this mini novel, but a tear or two was also shed. I saw (still see) and experienced many miracles which are documented below; however, none of them came with beams of light, trumpets sounding or glitter swirling. In fact, if one wasn’t paying attention, many of these miracles would have simply passed by, never receiving acknowledgement. And, well ... that simply cannot happen ...

The Downside of Being an “Angel" on an Angel Tree

Welcome back Me! It's been almost THREE years since I've blogged!
And, hello Stranger, who I will likely never see, meet, or even know anything about you, as you read a tiny excerpt from approx 1 hour of my life, many moons ago.
Be blessed. You are seen. You are important. You are loved.

~~~~~~~~~

First, I/we have never ACTUALLY been on an Angel Tree, though there is no shame in that … and quite honestly, I feel certain we would have been accepted if applied. There are some of us who either were raised to not accept handouts or naturally have too much pride … which can be both a good and bad thing. I fit one or both of those descriptions. By default, I’m a natural born giver. Being on the receiving end is not in my comfort zone.

As far as "joining in the spirit of giving during this holiday season," here’s a different perspective/take and a bit of insight for others who are graciously giving to the “less fortunate.” Which I also have done, do, and will do when possible. It wasn’t until I was convinced against my will to “allow others to love on me and my girls,” that I saw a little glitch in this concept.
It was an “Adopt-a-single-mom-Christmas-dinner-night.”
We experienced being a charity case.

Raising Adults

I don't claim to be the "perfect" parent, but I see a problem in raising children. Personally, I am trying to raise adults… Not lifelong children.

Granny ... A mini-novel ...

        

        It is ironic that my last post was on October 21, 2015. It was about Granny, as is this one … and she left this earth on July 21, 2016, exactly 9 months to the day. I began writing a little bit that night, but took a break until now. (My oldest daughter has asked what I saw with numbers regarding Granny … because that’s just one of those weird things I do. My quick response was about the dates both being on the 21^st, and that they were 9 months apart. I knew the number 9 represented finality/and ending, but looked it up again, finding this: The number 9 is mentioned in Scripture 49 times and 9 symbolizes divine completeness or conveys the meaning of finality. Reference: www.biblestudy.org)  

Granny

          GP/Granny Parker

I’ve never spent the night in a nursing home. Tonight will be a first. It is my understanding that this facility is called a “Rehabilitation Center,” but it has every characteristic of a nursing home.

Possibly, that’s just a new name given to take away the icky stigma attached to the title, “nursing home …”

          Considering the outside surroundings of this location, (barred doors and windows on the small, rundown houses; railroad tracks and no one of my same skin color driving in the passing cars,) the actual facility is surprisingly quite nice and impressive. It is very clean, well decorated and smells good; which is exceptional considering the amount of elderly people here. Not what I expected.

Church

Church. The face with many masks, at least in my lifetime.

It once represented a fun place to make arts and crafts, somehow creatively connected to scripture. Certificate awards that could be be framed or put in a scrapbook showing the success of learning the books of the Bible. Little snacks and Dixie cups with red Kool-Aid. It smelled like Play Doh, glue and paint and sounded like Jesus Loves Me This I Know. I loved having angel wings strapped on my tiny back, lined in sparkly tinsel, just like the wire halo on a stick hanging over my head. Older people stood in front of the church wearing matching robe-like gowns, holding hardback hymnal books and singing off key. My Nanny sang along loudly and I couldn’t tell if it sounded good or bad. The best part was when the preacher said for the kids to come forward. We sat criss-cross-applesauce on the carpet and listened to a Bible story he had tried to recreate in our novice language. Sometimes we even got a little prize, like a piece of candy.

A Diamond Named Crystal Poem

 “I have breast cancer.” The words you said in a matter of fact way.

I tried to process the declaration, But no words could I say.

We kept a positive attitude, believing it would all be okay.

In spite of the threat that it could take your life one day.

 

You eventually told me, “They said I may have three years.”

You were the one comforting me, trying to calm all my fears.

That discussion was a phone conversation, but you still heard me cry.

I was asking what everyone else was, the unexplainable question, why?

A Diamond Named Crystal

          It was somewhere after 8pm and before 9pm on Thursday May 14, 2015 when time stood still. Whatever the clock said no longer mattered and had no meaning. I sat in a hospital room beside my lifelong friend who was laying in the bed, holding her hand as she was preparing to leave this earth. It would be my first time to be in the presence of someone leaving their physical body. I've never wanted so desperately to be somewhere and not be somewhere so badly.

30 Things I Learned About Myself When Snowed/Iced In My House Alone For Days

 

1.     I like to be alone.

2.    My house in not very organized, and its big.

3.    Having gas heat does NOT mean it works when the electricity goes out. Gas fireplaces do ... but they are a little intimidating to people who are afraid of gas powered explosions.

4.    I miss my kids.

A Single Mom's Christmas Poem

I wrote this poem years ago, but re-read it tonight. It still speaks to me. Blessings to all single Mommies! (and Daddies ... or caretakers :), whomever you may be!)

She prepared the surprises her girls would soon see.

The stockings were stuffed and gifts were under her tree.

She tried very hard to make the holiday bright,

Preparing memories to be made on this Christmas Eve night.

She decided to make a fun, new fresh memory for this holiday.

She always attempts to make things memorable in any small way.

The three of them got matching pajamas, just like an all girl team.

It gave them a girlish sense of fun, as small as it may seem.

They said their bedtime prayers and she kissed their sweet heads.

Then she smiled with joy as she tucked them in their beds.

Its time to do the final touches for the moment when they wake.

In just a few hours, she will watch the memories they will make.

She is thankful for her babies and that they will soon discover their gifts.

She hopes they will never long for what they all have missed.

She knows in many homes, the mom and dad are doing this together.

She thought when her family was starting that it would be forever.

A Poem to My Second Child

This is the longest poem I have ever written and will take about 7-8 minutes to read. I tried to just 'write' about this event in an attempt to document it, but for some reason I never liked the way it turned out. Last night, a flood of thoughts came to me and I sat down and wrote for about 2 hours. No idea why or how, but it came out in this poem form. It is written to my youngest daughter. She cried when she read it and really loved it... so to me, it  has already served it's purpose, no matter what. But hopefully another may enjoy it, or some part of it. It is about my daughter getting saved.

I prayed for God to give me a second child,

Promising Him again, I’d do my very best.

Makes me wish trying hard or having the right intention,

Determined the grade and if I passed that test.

 

I hope you feel you’ve had a good childhood,

And that I was a good mother to you.

But for me there are some things that could’ve been better,

Some things you possibly never knew.

 

Mel and FeMel

Ten years ago I attended a hair show in Vegas and met one of the platform artists. Months later, I saw him in a magazine and got the bright idea to hire him for the grand opening party of my salon. I contacted him and he put me in touch with his agent, both lived in New York. I will never forget the first phone conversation I had with the agent, Mel. I was sitting at the front desk and at the first sound of his voice I thought, this won’t work. I don’t have anything against gay men, but he sounded extreme, and I’m a little on the conservative side. Maybe I thought he would be dramatic or just too much for my southern salon, I’m not sure. Now, I look back and realize how misleading first impressions can be.

Abilities Reside Within Disabilities, Part III

          I was going to add this to the previous blog, but no. It needs its very own spot, not a side note to another concept.

          Recently, I spoke with my biological cousin, the older sister of the adopted cousins I mentioned in the previous blog. As we spoke in agreement about the awesomeness of her brown brother and sister, I began questioning myself, admitting that I am over-the-top-crazy about them … possibly to a flaw. Truthfully, I am mesmerized by these two individuals, as I have been with every other special needs child my aunt and uncle have fostered or adopted. I am completely in awe. The part I questioned was that I do put them on a pedestal, basically in an adoring way. Kind of like idolatry, which is not so good. I’m cringing a bit writing that, but the truth is the truth. I see perfection in these children, and perfection is a strong word.

Abilities Reside Within Disabilities Part II

          My very first blog was on this same topic. It’s a great concept.

 

          Lately, life has seemed difficult and depressing, causing its usual effect on me; weight loss. On top of the parental transition, as one child has moved away to college and the other one is nearing that time too quickly, and my single parent woes … I had to say good-bye to a dear childhood friend. Watching cancer steal her from all and having no power to ease the pain for her daughter, husband, parents or siblings … I’ve just been sick. It all happened about two weeks ago. I became a recluse inside the walls of my home for the weekend, reading Mitch Albom’s books, one after another. He speaks a lot about life and death. I must say, it helped put things into perspective. I love Mitch.

         

          I dragged myself out of bed Sunday morning (after her funeral on Friday,) fueling my body with the necessary additive, coffee. Then some more. I had to pull it together, even if by artificial means. I was committed to host an exchange student from Guatemala AND attend a local play of The Christmas Carol.

Light in the Dark...Hope

I wrote this last week. Posting for my dear Eve to have something to read while on the quiet train. Shhhhhhh!

                               **************************************

Today was my day off, but one client wanted a little more blonde in her hair, so I made an exception. My clients are more than clients, I consider most to be dear friends, as they do me. My friend/client today is a couple years younger than me, has never been married and never had children, both being longings of her heart. We’ve had many conversations/debates about being married. I assure her being single and happy is better than married and unhappy in an unhealthy relationship. She feels marriage is what she needs and wants and that I can’t understand because I have experienced it. She and I have touched on this a few times over the last decade and a half. Today, I shed a different light on why I say what I say and we understood that she can’t understand my point because she hasn’t been where I’ve been.

We entered another discussion on the topic today, and it brought a couple of thoughts to mind, ones I have never realized.

I was saying how I question myself about a few things, things I would chose death over living through; one of them being trapped in a relationship that is unhealthy and why I cannot and will not do it again. I have written about it before …

From the Delivery Room to the Dorm Room

It was nineteen short/long years ago when God gave you to me.

My physical body transformed, a Mommy I’d soon be.

At your birth, nine months later, your existence became real.

On this day both our lives began, because my wounds began to heal.

 

I stared at you every opportunity I had, always in awe about every part of you.

Trying to wrap my head and heart around this newfound love, one I never knew.

I kissed you too much and could never get enough of your sweet baby smell.

I had heard of falling in love, and was certain that’s the place I fell.

 

The days, weeks and months passed as your tiny body grew.

You changed and evolved, every day learning something new.

You enlightened my world as you learned and began to talk.

Then before I knew it, you crawled and began to walk.

 

My baby became a little girl, seemingly overnight.

Learning and challenging the differences between what’s wrong and right.

Time continued to travel at warp speed as the years would pass.

Then, the day arrived when I walked you into your kindergarten class.

 

Death vs. Divorce

          Which is worse? Losing a spouse to death or divorce?

          A question similar to the answer-less one, “Which is harder/easier … knowing death is coming or a sudden death.”

Knowing death is near gives everyone the opportunity to say what needs to be said and do bucket lists. But, the impending doom is constantly lurking like a heavy fog, the elephant in the room, while everyone awaits the moment of the end … a stress beyond belief. Sudden death steals last goodbyes, but there is no pre-death anxiety and no helplessness as we sit back and witness a loved one suffer.

My end conclusion: Neither is easier or harder, better or worse, and the pain remains the same at the end of the day. There are pros and cons to both and we all could wish for the opposite that we experience, but the truth is, the grass is not greener on the other side when someone we love is taken. The grief is equal. 

As far as death and divorce, it is the same as the above concept, but there is a silent twist. Personally, I am six years post-divorce and had forgotten all about this concept until yesterday. I’m not sure what reminded me as I was driving, but I heard echoes of my words to my dearest friend from seven years ago (as the marriage ship was sinking) … and her perfect response to me. Having a best friend with a degree in counseling comes in quite handy … 

Typically, I write in present time. Thoughts, feelings and happenings of the here and now in my little world. It’s unfamiliar to write about something that is not a current situation, but when prompted, I listen.

4th of July Fireworks and Festivities

Loving independence and the start of a new year and loving the manner in which society celebrates it are two different things. This holiday is one of those things that makes me feel like I’m laughing at a joke simply because everyone else is laughing, but I really don’t get it … I’m merely going with the flow. I’ve tried going downtown with the rest of Nashville for the well-known Riverfront firework show, and seem to be a minority as I close my eyes and cover my ears while everyone else claps. Truthfully, I just see thousands of dollars being blown up, mixed with my ears hearing and my mind envisioning a terrorist attack.

It’s kind of like how I desperately want to be part of a fan club crowd. I tried watching Harry Potter in hopes of getting hooked and speaking the Harry Potter lingo. That did not work at all. I just didn’t get it … and since I am petrified of fireworks, I don’t get that either. War scares me, and fireworks remind me of war.