Seven Years Old

Once I was seven years old. If there was a problem in life I didn’t know it. I was joyous, full and loved; that was all that mattered to me. And I had a Sarah. She had pale skin full of freckles, red shoulder length hair with a crooked little bang and talked with a lisp. We laughed and played until we were out of breath sometimes. We had no worries just snacks and sunshine. Running barefoot thru the freshly cut grass in swimsuits and shorts. Life was perfect. Every moment was smiles, giggles and girly squeals. I was saddened when I learned that she had to move.I would always remember Sarah.My time with her taught me that love had no color.

Once I was 9 years old. I met a little girl with a big smile. The tiny tall girl sat on the end of a couch quietly smiling nervously. She was new to the neighborhood which was overrun with smelly preteen boys so I was so happy to have some estrogen around. I believe I had on those glitter stripped knee socks and purple shorts. I was a quirky, shy, short 9 year old with a high pitched voice. As different as we were on the outside our hearts connected and we became fast friends. She is one of the best friends I ever made. Me and this little girl spent countless days walking each other half way home and running back home to see who could call who first. Our relationship went beyond the neighborhood girls hanging out. She accepted me for just who I was. I remember packing her sandwiches when she “ran away”. She was my closest confidant, a sister who didn’t share my DNA. I would do anything for her. I wore those glitter knee socks a lot that summer and she never judged me or tried to change who I was. Today she is still my best friend although our lives are extremely different it never changed her love for me. She taught me it’s whats on the inside that counts.

Once I was 18 years old and I went off to college and met a group of ladies that would put an imprint on my soul. My cavalry. I’ve experienced so much with these brave women. They came from many different backgrounds but somehow we had a connection that couldn’t be explained. I experienced some of the best and worst times of my life surrounded by these strong independent chicks. Sleep overs in crammed dorm rooms, pot roast and pork chop Sunday dinners, parties, God, addiction, Cancer, abuse, and even death. These ladies and the things we experienced together shaped my very being. I felt I could trust them with my life. They stuck closer than a queen bee to her hive. We became family when our families were miles away. Yes, we have spread out over the years and gone on to live separate lives, but one phone call and I know each and every one of them would be there for me, in a black sweatsuit if needed. That’s when I learned that blood isn’t always thicker than water, try mixing it with dirt.

Once I was 35 years old and I met a girl who would forever change the way I looked at the world. She wanted nothing from me but to love me. She was one of the cutest people I ever met. She was short with poofy hair, slightly pigeoned toed with a million dollar smile that could light up any room. She had become a part of me. Everywhere I went she went and I hated when we had to be apart. We had Saturday morning adventures, summer time road trips and lazy Sunday afternoons. I thought life would end when she went away. I had never felt my heart literally break into pieces. I thought I would die. I actually wanted to because I thought after all I had been thru and put myself thru in 35 years I just didn’t want to deal with the pain.
That’s when I learned that we teach people to love but we do not teach people how to stop loving. That’s hard. And unfortunately something we are just going to have to deal with it.

Memories good and bad I am thankful for them all.
*you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.

*Philippians 4:8-9

I was inspired to write this blog after listening to a song: “Seven Years Old” by Lukas Graham

Perfect Patty

Perfection perfection I always try to be. Perfection Perfection I now realize is not in me.
Though I strive to be perfect for he she and me. I finally realize perfect is something I will never be.
I tend to make them mad when I am just trying to help.
I make mistakes, say the wrong thing and with this fire tongue, make some melt.
I say things and don’t realize until later how the recipient felt.
Sad thing is sometimes I don’t care, that’s just how the cards were dealt.
Just one day, no wait maybe just an hour,
I wish everything was perfect, no sad feelings no reasons to cower.
I could love who I wanted to, open honest and true.
I’d have all my real friends with me and my sweet baboo.
I’d smell flowers with no sneezes and eat just what my tummy pleases. Cheese milk and of course bacon too.
Oh wouldn’t you love one perfect hour or maybe even two?
No tears, no loneliness, no emptiness inside.
No secret depression, suicidal thoughts or no unheard cries.
Just perfection with no need to seek that unwarranted affection.
No fights, no arguments, no name calling or strife.
No dangerous secret desires no secret sins.
Everything would always be out in the open and at the game of life my entire family would win.
Perfection perfection always hiding from me, perfection perfection is something I will never see.
I still wish everything was perfect but perfect is not my life.
If perfect was a dollar I wouldn’t have enough to buy a fifty cent pie.
There’s only one perfect thing I’ve found. Yes just one. His name is Jesus, you know, yeah, the Father’s Son.
So Perfect Patty I will still strive to be. For if He is in me that is all the perfection I need.