Category: Writing

Building my dream outloud: Doing this together.

Soooooooo, beloveds, me, myself, I, along with Yikes!, Egads!, God and Life have been confabbing about getting my decades long dreams to come true.

For aeons, for years, I have been pouting, or praying.

For decades I have been pursuing my dreams, er, working for others whilst seeking pining for and being afraid my dreams of writing with an ocean view will never come true so I hid in work and encouraging the whole world while taking a backseat hoping someone would take notice of me.

Ha!

Enough of that!

The last six months or so I have kept seeking God and Life. I kept saying ‘I don’t know how’. But THIS time, I started to ask God, to ask God, to show me how.

I admitted to and showed Them my:

Fear.

Sad.

Anger.

Guilt.

Shame.

I gave Them my feelings of failure. They loved me, polished those failures and gave them back as the priceless treasures of experience, knowledge, integrity, fortitude, sticktoitness, try, nevergiveupness, and sooooooooo many laughs and lumps my days are never boring. Not even the boring ones.

Now that I have set aside, kicked to the curb, thrown hands against fear, anxiety and doubt, I am no longer afraid to try.

I am already living out most of it: Writing to you!

Now, I just desire:

A home, of my own, where I can drink coffee, all the day and night long where I can write, write, pray, laugh, cry, encourage, exhort, entreat, love and support as many folk as I can.

Insanely high income from my gift of writing and doing and saying THE most Pollyannish, ridiculously hopeful, obnoxiously encouraging, delightfully stupid things this world has ever heard. If athletes can make tens of millions entertaining, surely doors and donors, lol, can be opened, to slice off a few million, after taxes, for me so I can bless the world and be blessed by seeing some of it.

10,000 or so credit card debt – life erased.

20,000 IRS tab zeroed out. Too, long a story. Did home care for someone who never took out taxes leaving me to pay each year. Did so until they passed and lost job and couldn’t afford and interest and Uncle Sam a killer, whew.

I want to see some of this beautiful land. I want to visit:

The Grand Canyon.

Yosemite.

The Teton.

Those huge Redwood trees.

I would like to meet some folks who just need a hug. Would love to spend a year hugging folk and letting them know they are loved and they are not alone.

How will I complete them all? I have NO idea.

Yet, I AM beginning. I am hoping others shall take the courage and reach for theirs. I am going to live out my try, for all to see.

Why? I don’t want yours to take 30 plus years to happen. Let’s make them come true, together. Some of them may. None of them may. Yet, I shall have a blast trying.

I have a few ideas for a YouTube channel. A faceless one, at first. Not because I am ashamed to be an ugly ashtray. I want folk to hear my heart. Also, my apartment is a miniature disaster. 🤣. Just kidding. Sorta.

I started this blog, three years ago. Have to work on getting it out there, wherever there is. I have NO idea about thisachat and thatagram and what’s up with that or what’s that or whatever that social thing is. I have ZERO experience in tumbling.

I certainly have NO plans to be swiping this way and that way! A friend explained all the swiping and I want to spank all kinds of folks! Stop treating one another like takeout and learn to court and date, for heavens heaven sake!! Egads, stop treating your hearts so casually! They are precious and priceless. Enough with the swinging, swiping and tossing hearts around like trading cards. Yikes!

Before I go on another tangent, I end this where I started: building my dream, MY way. I invite you to join me. We can compare notes. If interested, go to my Contact Me page and let us start a fabulous journey. Who knows? We may make a book out of it…lol.

Life is short. I just want to try. For me, this time. I am taking my I have no idea what to do with me.

Ready.

Set.

Let’s go!

running the race set before me,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Welcome newbies!

I have been inviting folk, left and right. To come in and take a load off. Come! Stay, awhile.

Look out for Yikes! and Egads! They show up, from time to time.

Yipppeeee says hello. You shall become well acquainted with my yippees. I let them loose frequently when excited.

Here, you shall find:

Love, lots of it.

A boot to the rear, liberally, as needed.

Hooting, hollering and carrying on as I cheer you towards your hopes, your dreams, and all that keeps you straining, struggling and fighting for the awesome gift to this world, called YOU.

Here, you shall find a comforting shoulder as you confront the ONE thing that frightens you the most…YOU!

Fear not, beloveds, you got this. Here, you are safe to let your guard down and just be…YOU.

Strap in, settle down. Get those tray tables situated, as makes you comfy. Please make sure your neighbors have ample lounging space.

Visit, early and often. Let me hear from you. Blast me a quick email. Send a deliciously long one! I love, love, love hearing from folk. Let me know what you would like to yak about.

Here, beloveds, I share me. The good, the bad, the ugly, the humorous, the annoying, the boring. Goulash. Me. The way God and Life made. The way I have helped shaped me.

Why? Because it may help give you the courage to BE. That is soooooooo hard for many to do because they have been judged harshly doing so.

I want you to hear this:

You were judged by hearts hurting. In fact, most times they are simply projecting what they are ashamed of, in themselves. They can’t admit this. To, you. To, themselves. They are viewing themselves through the eyes of other hurting folk. A vicious cycle I am doing my level best to help God and Life end.

I shall end here. Be well. If you hear nothing else, hear this:

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU.

You got this.

I got you.

God has us all.

Be encouraged.

Look around and snatch the good seats. This room fixing to fill up soon. Ah, beloveds, life is short. Let’s you and I, do something about a world desperately in need of some love, joy and laughter. Start now. Beginning, with you.

I love you.

your sis,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Mother’s Day: My business, my silence.

Mother’s Day:

My agenda:

Turn off phone.

Check.

Turn off/tune out the word.

Check.

I checked out. Or, so I thought.

God’s agenda:

Turn on the phone.

Check.

Waited for said phone to ring.

Check.

Said phone rang.

Check. Check.

Talked to sis.

Check.

Talk time #1 = 6.40 hours.

During said talk time did the following, in no particular order:

Drank coffee.

Shared stories of mom.

Smiled.

Laughed.

Commiserated.

Drank more coffee.

Loved.

Watched NBA playoffs with sound down…*gasp*😳

Made Cassandra Goulash #2. Goulash #2 ingredients:

One half roll Jimmy Dean’s sausage(original).

One grilled chicken breast.

Two thinly sliced Johnsonville bacon and cheddar brats.

One can French cut green beans.

One can sliced potatoes.

One dab of Irish butter.

One sprinkling shredded Colby/American cheese.

Random seasonings.

Mix all, lovingly, in my lovely new baby electric skillet and tada!:

Check.

Drank more coffee.

Check.

Remembered to switch to decaf in order to not be up until the following Mother’s Day.

Whew!

Check.

Laughed.

Check.

Reminisced.

Check.

Shared hearts.

Check.

Supported on another.

Check.

Laughed.

Check.

Pondered.

Check.

Wondered.

Check.

Meandered.

Check. Check!

Loaded the dishwasher.

Check.

Washed the dishes.

Check.

Separated now loving made Cassandra Goulash #2 into three wonderously scrumptious servings…*excited shiver*.

Check!

Decided to spend a bit of time, with mom, in Cherry, my Ford Focus purchased in 2016. Now, THAT is another story, to be told, shortly…*hugs self*.

Advised sis I needed to take out the now THREE bags of trash, whilst trying NOT to kill two innocent birds with any stones. Poor birds! Forever getting killed with two stones of which I have NO earthly idea why we all be killing birds with two stones when needing to do more than one thing at once….*Cassandra makes note to meander, wonder and ponder who on earth and why the world someone came up with this perfectly awful but useful saying*

Ended Call #1.

Took out trash.

Check.

Sat in Cherry.

Did the following, in no particular order, whilst sitting in Cherry:

Drank coffee…don’t judge me….*shrug*

Talked to mom.

Smiled.

Sniffed.

Laughed.

Smiled.

Recorded short audio to thank mom and let her know how very much I loved her and appreciated her giving me life.

Texted sis who I just spent a delish 6.40 talking to, telling her of my time sitting in Cherry, yakking with mom and loving life.

Decided to call my wombie.

Called wombie which was Call #2. Did the following whist talking with sis, in Cherry, in no random order:

Finished coffee.

Swatted mosquitoes.

Laughed.

Loved.

Shared hearts.

Swatted mosquitoes.

Chased from Cherry by said, now malicious mosquitoes who apparently wanted Cherry and mom to themselves.

Whew.

Tore up the stairs, dived into my thank the good heavens mosquito free apartment.

Continued yakking with wombie.

Ordered from Amazon.

Ordered from Amazon.

Ordered from Amazon….*don’t judge me*.

Decided to give the end of my day to reading in my Thompson Chain Reference Bible….*delicious shiver*.

Read Proverbs Chapter 3. Fantastic!

Told wombie I HAD to kick her discreetly, to the curb, in order to kick it with The Father.

Ended Call #2.

Yakked, endlessly, relentlessly, incessantly, with The Father and thanked Him for the now wonderous motherless Mother’s Day, not wanting it to end.

Not wanting it to end, I rang up wombie for Call #3 and yakked, endlessly, relentlessly, about the wonderfulness of my motherless Mother’s Day.

All the while, my business had gotten all up in our business, deciding my business was worth telling my business, to you, beloveds, which is why my business won’t shut up about my motherless Mother’s Day business and she could give two hoots about my fatigue as she is all about HIS Business.

Which, now brings me, us, to Call #4. Yes, beloveds, there was a 4th call….whew. Mind you, it is well nigh past midnight. Yet, to me, the next day does NOT officially start until I have gone to bed and woken again…*shrug*. Do not ask me why this is true but it IS. Yep, the next day does not officially start until you have ended the previous one with sleep.

N-E_Waze, after I yakked with wombie, I was super tired but sooooooooooooooo not wanting Mother’s Day to end. Being so, I got to texting with sis from Call #1. During said text, the following happened, in no random order:

I texted sis.

Sis texted me.

I texted me.

Sis, remembering I had said I was going watch Marvel Movies and Star Wars movies did not call me back and made the mistake of mentioning she was not calling me back as I had specifically advised I was done talking on the phone with sis as we had talked 6.40 hours.

I call sis for now call #5. During said call we did the following, in random order:

Laughed.

Talked about Marvel Movies and Star Wars movies….*shiver*.

Loved.

Shared.

Reminisced.

Shared picture of scrumptious Italian sausage, eggs and cheese scrambled eggs and toast I had made during either yakking with her, texting her, yakking with wombie..*shrug*. Who the world knows? Was starving by then. Mind you, this was after 2 in the morning!

All the whilst, my business had gotten all up in our business taking notes and taking names. Remembering nuggets best shared with others so she, my writer, my business, could be about His Business which was helping me to be about His Business and share His Heartbeat, His Love, His Laughter, His Joy, His Love for, His Reverence for…YOU!

Anywho, and N-E-Waze, talked to sis until checking my phone for the time.

5:40 am!

Yikes!

Egads!

Crying uncle, I begged off the phone, turned the phone off, then begged my business to take a chill pill so I can get some kind of sleep some kind of time else I will fall out in a heap forever written and or talked out. My business, my writer, took pity on me and allowed me to fall into blissful half sleep whilst I watched Rey beat the holy hooey out of The Dark Side. Go, Rey!

Do NOT ask me how, but I woke, in complete silence, in semi darkness as morning had arrived in the midst of egg eating and incessant yakking, to find the television off. The fan lovingly caressed me and whispered awe at the motherless Mother’s Day that appears just won’t end.

Ah.

I lay, in darkness, listening to the delicious sound of silence. Still, in darkness, now light through the light of sharing mom, now gone, ever here, with family. Reveling in silence, my heart, now silent, now free, full of peace, spoke to me of so many things she woke up my business.

For heaven’s sake!

Said business, my business, my writer, listening to my silence, which spoke to me so loudly, decided it was time to get all up in my business and told me to be about being about His Business, which was letting folks know they were loved, they were not alone and to keep oing being themselves.

My business, hauled me out of a perfectly fine bed. Into the bathroom, phone in tow, my business sent me to, ehem, take care of personal business, then sent me back to the living room so I could be about His Business, with my business, my writer, in order to be about being about it so I can let you know how very much you are loved, thought of, cared for and prayed for.

Do you SEE, beloveds, why I need some time off, from work, in order to keep doing my work, which is His Work, which is letting you know….okay, you KNOW, by now, or should what my be about is all about.

Be careful, beloveds, what you wish for. It is now 12:16 pm and I have yet to enter the day after Mother’s Day. It is Mother’s Day. Still. Til a sister goes to sleep and wake up. Yet, I still don’t want this day to end.

The Mother’s Day I thought I would dread has turned out to one of the most precious days I have ever had. Though alone, I was NOT alone. Sis, wombie, God and Life spent a delicious motherless Mother’s Day with me. As, did mom.

Now, this loud oyster cracker, finds herself wanting to be silent. Needing to be still. Waiting to hear what my business will say to me. What my heart, will say to me. What God will say to me. What Life will say to me. What mom will say to me. Most folks are afraid to be silent. They are terrified to hear what their silence will say to them. What their hearts will say to them.

Don’t be afraid of your silence, beloveds. Don’t be afraid of your business. Don’t be afraid when God changes your agenda. Who knows? He may give you an endless motherless Mother’s Day.

I love you.

You.

YOU, beloveds. If you eyes have fallen upon these words, they were meant for you.

Such as this teeny weeny loud now silent oyster cracker has I offer you.

Take care and be encouraged.

As for me and my house, well, my business just will NOT be silent so I will either write, til I fall out or…*shrug*.

God and Life knows and They aint telling.

Remember alway:

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU!

*Cassandra goes in search of coffee*.

Whew!

being about being about it,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Life is short. None of us knows when our time shall end. I am doing my level best to live as though this day were my last. Not to be morbid. We truly have no idea. I CAN tell you that I have had the greatest hoot living, with INTENTION, loving me some Him, while allowing Him to love Him some me and taking each day as it comes and will. Be at peace. You got this. God and Life has us all. How much more loved could we be?

Keep reaching out.

Keep reaching out.

Even when and as silence greets you.

Keep on keeping on.

You can do this.

You can.

I have been saying the same, believing the same, TRYing the same for at least the last 34 years.

I will be honest, beloveds. A bit ago, I began to feel like SUCH the failure. Because of the decades long of saying, hoping, believing, trying. I had watched others I had prayed for and rooted for living out the lives I had prayed and hoped for.

Yet, MY prayers, well, they seemed to be, stay and frustratingly remain, unanswered. Still.

One day, in tears, I angrily told God I didn’t know what I was doing wrong. Told Him I had NO idea I was praying wrong. I searched and searched for whatever the world I was obviously not seeing, being doing in all of this trying to TRY. Crap…*sigh*.

One day, I was sharing this with my twin. My wombie. She smartly and rightly reminded me that I was here, still, in the fight. All these years. I was me, still. I was loved. Still.

God told me, reminded me all those years, tears, struggle, fight, flight, return, try, try, try, cry, cry, cry, cry, were but me laying my foundation on this thing, this legacy, called me. I have been laying an unseen foundation of faith, hope, joy, love, laughter, fortitude, integrity, and a million other things the world were not privvy to see. All while, God was/is using those things to encourage others, encourage me, build an eternal legacy others will use as a bridge as they make their way to their own hopelessly never ending silent, not coming true, what in the world is this and why is it taking so long dream.

Until then, I continue to write. I continue to hope. I continue to check an empty inbox in search of those who could use my particular goulash or a teeny tiny oyster cracker.

This morning, i checked my inbox and one person was there! Awesome. Maybe, others may follow? Maybe not. I have goulash and an oyster cracker waiting.

As you wait, beloveds, for whatever your heart and life is currently yearning, straining, longing for, keep on keeping on. You are building a legacy for others to follow. Your steps are helping others to achieve their dreams. Your love is feeding other needing to be filled souls. Your joy is giving others the courage to lift up their discouraged heads. Your TRY is giving others the inspiration to also use their TRY.

Try, beloveds. This is ALL God and Life requires of you. Stop being so hard on you. You are doing all that you know. Let that be enough. Leave the outcome to God and Life. Enjoy this day. Your day. You may fill it with anything you wish. Oh, I so wish you will CHOOSE to fill it with a heaping helping of love, laughter, joy and peace. Share some. With others. Beginning with you.

Take care and know you are loved and not alone.

your friend,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

God’s Goulash.

I tried my hand at goulash, MY way.

A heaping helping of whatever the world I felt like tossing in my electric skillet.

My life often felt, feels like a heaping helping of whatever the world God and Life feels like tossing into my world and mixing it into whatever the fresh what on earth is THIS. Leaving me, a teeny weeny oyster. Allowing me to be an ugly clay ashtray.

Mother’s Day had turned itself into so many unexpected things. So many tasty things! Life really is like that, isn’t it? Full of plot twist. Full of a heck of a whole lot of forks in the road while not telling you which way to turn yet telling you which way to turn.

God then tosses in apparent mayhem, anxt, tests, trials, what the world is THAT, how on earth will I get through THIS. Thankfully, He sprinkles in plenty of laughter, joy, foolishness, fun, hope, faith, more hope, more faith, love, His Love, a whole lotta Jesus, the Cross, THE Cross!, plenty of you can do this so get up and get to doing it, being about it ness, and tons of this, that and the other thing.

Smartly, He tosses us a blueprint which teaches us HOW to build a strong foundation in order to withstand the thisers and thathers of the world.

Finally, He bathes our goulash with His and our mixed together tears as we fight our way through our recipe, our goulash, which turns out to be His Masterpiece…You.

Tada, world!

It is a truth, beloveds. A sad truth, many look upon their goulash, their life, and see nothing but a heap of not so great. They look upon other’s goulash in envy. Thinking someone else’s life, their goulash, MUST be more tasty, more preferred as he/she/they have more expensive ingredients. The pot their goulash is cooked in is more expensive. They lament no one will want their particular goulash. No one will want THEM.

So, they hide. Their heart. Their love. There goulash. Leaving the world, more hungry. Less, loved. Needlessly.

All God and Life asks and require is for us to just be us. You, be you. Me, be me. We are simply to allow our goulash to turn into whatever the wide world God and Life MEANT for it, for us, for you, for me, to end up being.

You are NOT an accident.

You life, how you have ended up, is NOT an accident.

You were a brilliant and priceless on purpose.

An on purpose in which God and Life lovingly presents, to the world, with your permission. Only you can take the courage to offer your particular brand of you, your goulash, to the world. And, I get it. Truly, I get it. Folk are so embarrassed about their particular goulash they project their dismay and dislike upon you. Leaving you to feel like a heap of unwanted goulash.

Keep on being you, beloveds. This world is hungry for what only you can provide…you.

Time for me to go beloveds. Time for me to offer my goulash to whosoever will.

Wil you?

Take care.

Be encouraged.

Remember, love:

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

yours,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Be…

Be…

The faithful friend, you have been asking for.

The loyal, supportive, understanding, empathetic partner, you have been praying for.

The ethical, hardworking, empowering, joyful employer, you have been asking for in management and your job.

The welcoming, inclusive, civil, empathic, compassionate, warm, affirming, global sister/brother, you are asking God and Life to send out to heal our divisive world.

An oyster cracker, for someone who is hungry.

A vessel God and Life can use to spread love, joy, peace, hope and light, into a world full of hopelessness and faithfulness. Allow God and Life to use your arms to love others. We love because He first loved us.

Humor in a world which has seemingly forgotten how to laugh.

An eraser who lets everyone know it is not only okay, but a part of this thing called life, to make mistakes, on the daily.

Finally, beloved, be. Just be…YOU!

Don’t fret, yea, worry NOT, about the outcome. How come? Cuz, beloved, it is all in the TRY.

Will you?

Will YOU, just TRY, beloved?

I will.

I WILL!

*Cassandra turns from the mirror and continues to offer the tiny, old, broke, broken down, busted, teeny, tiny, but awfully tasty oyster cracker called her, to the world.*

Such as I have, beloveds, I offer you. Everything but my Kuerig, and double chocolate chip cookies, that is.🤣🤷‍♀️❤

I love you.

His Friend and your oyster cracker,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: This was an awesome day. Often, we use the past to determine our present moods and moments. Enjoy each day. Look forward to them. You have NO idea what treats that God and Life are eagerly awaiting to share with you. If nothing else, They are waiting to escort you through EVERY moment. Be encouraged. You got this. God and Life has us all. You are loved. You are NOT alone. If you know someone who would like to help me get to my sabbatical so I can write, write, write and write, head on over to my Help Me Be Loud page. We all we got but we all we need.

Real talk: Seeing through a mother’s eyes.

I have been thinking a lot, about my mom. Missing her. Thinking of all she did and tried to do for our family. Mom was not perfect. She did not have much. Or, so it seemed, to this judgey you had best have tons of money and prestige world we live in.

Yet, mom loved this world, the best that SHE could. She cooked for it. She cleaned for it. Mom’s love language, like many, many, many black woman, was of service. She learned, had been taught, long ago to feed the masses and keep her mouth shut and heart closed from HER dreams.

Her dreams became allowing us to live with her, off and on, as we pursued, or not, our own too big or two small dreams.

As dusk turned into night, which then turned itself into Mother’s Day, I lay in darkness, thinking of the darkness mom must have felt in having given up HER dreams to raise 13 kids on not a lot of money but plenty of never giving up ness. 13! I couldn’t, still can’t, imagine raising sooooooooooooooooo many heard headed block heads, at once. Good grief.

As I struggle to make my decades long writing dream come true, I….*sigh*….I think of mom’s dreams. I try, horridly so, to look into HER heart to see what dreams lay there. Mom never really shared what her ultimate dream was. I wish I knew. My childhood dream was to buy her a home, hire staff to take care of her every wish and desire and allow her to live out her days chasing whatever whim and fancy that SHE fancied.

That day never arrived. I feel kinship with mom’s perhaps unrealized dreams. Who knows? Maybe her dream was to raise 13 knuckleheads. She did her best to. Her TRY was outstanding, in that regard. For the most part, we all have random times of acting like we have the two sense God gaves us and mom raised us to have…lol….we kid because we love bro/sis’

It’s not easy, trying to view life through the lense of another. Doing so makes us accountable for our part in how our lives have turned out. We can’t blame mom or dad or this or that, for what we have done or failed to do. She did the best she could. She gave all she had. Whether her best was enough, for us, was and is an us problem. Not hers.

Now, I continue to try and look at her life, through HER eyes. Which helps me, to look at mine, through MY eyes. Not, hers. I have let her off the hook, for all I thought she should have been and should have given me. I let ME off the hook, for all I thought I should have been and given me.

I now, right now, make my way through a motherless, iceless, out of the darkness, sharing coffee with mom Mother’s Day.

Ah, mom.

Aha, mom.

Have a wonderous Mother’s Day, beloveds. If you have your mama, squeeze her tight. If not, give yourself a squeeze and get by the best you can, today. Smile, thinking of the laughs you enjoyed. And, if you did not enjoy a good or great relationship, with your mom, perhaps you can make the attempt to look at life through HER eyes. She may surprise you. You may surprise yourself.

Be encouraged.

You are loved.

You are NOT alone.

Keep on being…YOU.

loving me some her on this her Mother’s Day,

Cassandra aka Sweetpea

Mother’s Day: Tear down those walls, Cassandra.

Mother’s Day…*sigh*.

I see you. Yes, I am WELL prepared for you.

This year.

THIS time.

Last night, pre Mother’s Day, I made sure, made certain, in fact, to arm myself with ALL the prerequisites to survive an motherless Mother’s Day:

Silence – I smartly texted those who I know would give two damns about my orphan self as mom up and damn left me like that!!!! Dammit, mom!! Oppps….ehem….*Cassandra snatches up hidden anger and rushed it into the now fully crammed dammit why the world and the fresh hell did you up and leave me like that mom drawer, and got about preparing her encampment, er apartment, making it rage proof, emotion proof, happy go damn pretending like she doesn’t care mom is gone, environment.

To ensure said silence, Cassandra made sure her text was pleasant, efficient, brief as she advised she would be incommunicado dammit cuz mom gone…opps.

Next, and this was a tricky one, she called her Wombie, to let her know she was going to spend some time ‘resting’. Ha! To be fair, her wombie knows her well and gave her permission to turn off the phone and process as she needed to process. Well, crackers, wombie, you sure do make it hard to hide my heart, from you.

Actually, beloveds, I no longer hide my heart, during Mother’s Day. Last year, I was even able to make a nice dinner and think of all the good times mom and I had. I thought I was going to be able to this year. Alas, my heart decided to do a sneak attack and prepared to hide from this motherless world…*sigh*.

Darkness – I have some lovely smart bulbs I can switch to a brooding, tasteful, drat it all mom is gone and left me a blasted orphan color. I also started the morbid, er mourning, er moment by playing ‘Moment by Moment’ on a loop….*sigh*…such an introspectively, romantically sad song to me……*Cassandra sways to Moment by Moment thinking of her mom every moment*.

Ice – Since I would not allow myself to comfort eat, I found myself taking unused ice trays out and crunching on ice all day….*sigh*….*Cassandra puts the ice trays back up*. I used to use ice eating to self comfort when life was really hard. EVERY two hours, I had it timed, I would dump the ice, refill the ice trays and run a bit of hot water, over the ice cubes, to make sure only the white part of the ice was left. This left a satisfying crunch/flavor. Yet, I was in a prison of every two blasted hours changing ice and lamenting about this or that or the other of life.

Since getting some true healing, I do my best to leave comfort eating alone and get my comfort in the lap of The Father, in the Word, in supportive family, in my wombie, in old movies, in praise/worship and good old fashioned feel good secular music.

Mostly, though, beloveds, I draw comfort from me. I encourage and love myself. First. So I can love others and be the best tasting oyster cracker this side of heaven.

Anywho, I have my fortress of darkness and solitude prepared and awaited the coming dawn. I was smart enough, even, to take a power nap. I just HAD to greet Mother’s Day, on a full night’s sleep. Ha!

I battled the night.

The night, battled me.

Battered, I ceded the night to day.

Fresh hell.

Day, left her corner, tapped out night, and commenced to tossing haymakers.

MOTHER’S DAY.

Hhmm.

Hmmm.

*Day, having crashed face first, on an empty bed, looked around wondering where Cassandra….hhaarrumph! Day, flounced out of the room after observing Cassandra serving her mom and Mother’s Day a cup of coffee. The lovely sound of peculating coffee mingled with the incredibly beautiful sights and smeills of perfectly made cheese toast. Day decided to find someone else to pick on seeing as Cassandra had her Mother’s Day well in hand.*

I woke from my nap, turned the phone back on, turned the lights on and prepared to greet Mother’s Day with a grateful heart. Carefully, with intention, I began to tear down walls I had been secretly building for weeks. I did not realize I had been building walls until the tell of those ice trays came up.

I am grateful for old habits. They alert us something is up. Yes, if you have the courage, old habits will tell on you. Like a game of hide and seek, old habits will search us out. Old habits are experts at hide and seek. For, they know where ALL the bodies, are buried. Yikes, mom, no pun intended…*macabre shiver*

I determined, I would arise and do my own search and rescue mission. I told myself I would not write. Not, today. Not, on Mother’s Day. i needed to hide and process me in case inopportune grief and sadness, raised their ill-timed heads.

Surprisingly, neither have shown up. Not, yet. Yet, my heart tapped me on the shoulder. Reminding me there are countless of sons and daughters who are also missing their mom, their mama, their o dear Lord how do I survive without them person.

*Cassandra prepares some extra place settings for any and all who are in need of some care on this their motherless Mother’s Day.*

Be encouraged. For those who have lost loved ones there just is no getting around the loss. Take some time, to allow your heart to feel however it needs to feel. It is perfectly fine to either be perfectly fine. Or, it’s okay to not be okay until you find yourself okay, once again. Okay?

In the meantime, I am going blast Moment by Moment, cherishing EVERY precious, priceless, tearful, joyful, moment of this motherless Mother’s Day.

Happy Mother’s Day, mom. I love you. I miss you. Thank you, for my life. Enjoy your well deserved rest. Mom, I got this. And, God has me. I shall continue your example of feeding the world the best oyster cracker it has ever eaten. Your grateful, orphan daughter, Cassandra.

missing me some her,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

The only way I know how.

I am:

Loud.

At times, uncouth.

Yet, I am.

I am, here, world.

Being…me.

The only way I know how.

I am:

Unapologetic.

At times, seemingly, unseemly.

Still, I am, here, fam.

Being.

The only way I know how.

I am:

Me.

At times, exceedingly so.

Being…an oyster cracker.

The only way I know how.

being ME alway the only way I know how,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: Keep being loud, uncouth, unapologetically, seemingly unseemly, exceedingly so, beloveds. This doesn’t mean traipsing through the world unmindful of others thoughts, feelings and needs.

No, to live this way, we ALWAYS take others thoughts, feelings and needs, into account. It means that WE count ourselves, in the equation. We count our thoughts, feelings and our needs, into the equation.

Too often, we are mute. Too often, sadly so, expecting the world to be clairvoyant. We want the world to count us, worthy. We want the world to jump through hoops to let us know it cares.

We want.

We want.

We want dammit!

We, then, allow want to run rampant. Rampant, in our lives. We then allow our want, to run rampant, all over the place. Our want is allowed to trample over the thoughts, feelings and need of others.

Then, THEIR want, seeing OUR want, well, their want wants to get to wanting and running rampant to.

It is their RIGHT, you see, to allow their want to do whatever the hell their want wants. To hell with our wants.

Now, want is, for want of a better word, wanting it’s way through ALL thoughts, feelings and needs until ALL are left…wanting.

It is time, for us all, to take measure. It is time for us all, to want the best, for one another. I want the best, for you. I will give my best, to you…

The only way I know how.

Be encouraged.

You are loved.

Keep being you…the only way you know how.

I love you.

Who is this girl, who looks at me?

Who is this girl, who looks back at me?

Mirror, tell me your secrets.

What does she want, from ME?

This girl, who looks at me, from the mirror.

She looks, so old.

I feel, young, inside.

How can we co exist?

This one, who looks at me, through the mirror?

What hides, in her gaze?

What are the truth, behind her eyes?

Eyes, that gaze, at me, through her, through thr mirror.

Is she, a reflection, of me?

Or, I, her?

Who is this woman, who looks at me?

Mirror, tell me your secrets!

Eyes, now old, stares at me, still.

Still gazing, still asking who is this one, now old.

Who looks at me, through the mirror.

Am, I a reflection, of her?

Or, her, I?

Not, I, said she.

Said, I, who then?

Ah.

Aha!

We both turn.

We both seek, The Father’s Heart.

We both seek, The Father’s Lap.

He shall tell us who He sees. When He looks at her, at me, through the mirror.

Father, tell me what YOU see.

Who is this girl, who looks at me?

awed by her,

Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe