My Heaven

I walked into my mom’s little apartment and scanned the room. It looked exactly the same as it had 12 years ago. I looked over to the kitchen table. I stood, stunned, silent. My mom was sitting at the table talking with my son, who was eating something covered with ketchup. I walked over to my son who was laughing and talking now to me, about who knows what. Something ketchup related I think. I don’t really recall. I was so caught up in just looking at him. I kept staring at his little face.

“I remember! I remember! How do I remember him so clearly looking 4 years old?”

I knew I was in a dream. I knew my son was now 23 years old. Yet his face, his smile, it was exactly the same as when he was 4. I cleaned up his small hands as my mom walked to the kitchen. Her back was to me. I was scared to talk. I was scared if I spoke she would disappear. I waited to see if she would say anything. She didn’t. Still knowing I was in a dream. Still knowing my mom died 12 years ago I walked over to her. I just stood there. Her back still to me.

I thought, what am I doing here if she isn’t going to talk to me?

I turned, walked back, and sat in the kitchen chair.I looked at her still waiting for her words of wisdom.

She said nothing.

Finally, I screamed out, Mom I just miss you so much!

Without turning around I heard a voice. It wasn’t her. It was a man. He said, “She is in the room with you right now.”

I woke up to the sound of my own voice. “She is in the room with me right now?”

I looked around the dark room. I deeply wanted to go back to my dream. Be there for just another minute. Hear her voice. Just see her even if she didn’t talk. But in that moment a sense of peace came over me.

I started to wonder, was that her heaven? Her little grandson at 4 years old laughing covered in ketchup. Just hanging with grandma in her small apartment? Did I just walk into my moms heaven? Or maybe, just maybe, I just walked into mine.

I remember the first time I wasn’t sad after my mom passed. I remember thinking “Hey, I had a good day today.” Then some days strung together. A good week. I know I still miss her and I know some days are worse than others. As the seasons change and it becomes “holiday season” I know I can enjoy the holiday but I also know it’s different now. These are the times I miss her most. I know there are others out there like me, missing someone they love this holiday season. Or maybe it’s just a bad day. I want you to know, you’re not alone.

We might not see them. But they are in our hearts. They are in our thoughts and memories. They are with us.

Police Wives Talk Radio

Police Wives Talk Radio Hosts a "Recovering Dysfunctional"!

Join PWTR for  "Ride Along" with Diana Lynn - A "Recovering Dysfunctional": 

http://tobtr.com/s/5701555

This week I had the great joy of being on Police Wives Talk Radio. I know there are a lot of thoughts and prayers given to our police officers daily. Rightfully so. But next time you put an officer in your prayers. Please add a little pray for the families who wait for that loved one to come home each night.

I, myself haven't had much interaction with "the law". But I did have an encounter with an officer on my way to get married. Check out Pieces of Me: Life of a Recovering Dysfunctional for My Perfect Wedding.


Much much love and respect to officers and their families.

A guest writer ---Picasso smile

Below is a poem from my friend Kim. I find her words beautiful, almost magical. Every word so carefully chosen. Its as if she were in my head, taking my thoughts, and putting them to paper. I wanted to share 1 of my favorites pieces with you today.


I look into my mirror, a shattered picture as it falls,
and dig into the shards of glass to restore the image I recall.
A broken scrambled vision is all that I can see
but somewhere in the pieces must be a part of me.
As though I were a kaleidoscope, with each turn the pictures change
and though its my hand on the vessel, I cannot control what is arranged.
Where have I disappeared to? Can somebody tell me how
I could lose my own identity within vanity's favorite shroud?
I feel so lost and fearful that I may never find
the person who still lives within the corners of my mind.
Did she once reside within a youthful stare?
Or have my memories forsaken me and left me painfully aware
that I may never find the girl the my broken mirror stole
and perhaps I never liked her even when she still was whole.
Even then I searched for the image to be enhanced
and never gave what I had to offer its rightful passing glance.
I've tried so hard to remember and yet cannot recall
ever smiling at myself to recite "mirror- mirror on the wall".
Perhaps that’s why the mirror fell, like a broken heart unhealed
as if to say "you never did appreciate the person I revealed".
So as I put together each piece of broken glass
I see each shard representing future, present, and my past.
and I wonder as I come closer to my end of time
what proof of my existence will I have left behind-
The color of my children's eyes, the words I chose to style
or perhaps a broken mirror with a Picasso looking smile.
I pray there will be many treasures I will have to give,
the good, the bad, the everything that’s says
I was here, I lived.
-Kim-

Wellness Woman

If someone were to ask me: What magazine's do you read? Two weeks ago, I'd say "None."

I love reading books but I'm not really into magazines. I'm not sure why. Maybe the content doesn't capture my attention like a good book. But I have to say. That's all changed now. If someone said what magazine do you read?

I'd say Wellness Woman Magazine. http://bit.ly/WellnessWoman40andBeyondEMagazine.

This magazine is jam packed with wonderful, beautiful tips and insight we can all benefit from. It's formatted like a real magazine. You flip through the pages as if you are holding an actual magazine. It's a great layout and fun to read.

If you are looking for a little inspiration, check it out.