Strength at any (st)age.

There are a lot of reasons individuals feel strong. It might be because they were able to do the impossible, completed a task or were physically able to meet a goal. It is defined as a good quality in people and things, and is an accomplishment all on its own.

When you add the variable of age, the measurement changes. As children, we think we are strong when we can arm wrestle our older siblings or friends. In our teens, it is making it through the school year without being bullied. In our twenties, its surviving college and landing our first jobs. We are strong. Invincible.

These are all easy to identify, and in some ways less complicated. But what about once we are parents ourselves, or women choosing to follow our careers, or taking on the role of caretaker for our aging parents, or deal with debt. Failure. Loss. Death.

We are always quick to show our praises, but not our defeats. Not our vulnerabilities. But I have started watching those around me, and have realized that those I admire most, and that exude the most strength are those who don't just celebrate triumphs, but share their lows.

I am learning to be strong. I have recently been through a lot, and tried to put on a brave face, but through my latest move, the illness of my father, the loss of my beloved pet and the stressors of looking for a house and job I want to be open and find my strength.

I am starting a new fitness journey to get my health back on track, so I can be physically strong. I am trying new things to be sure that my mind regains its strength. I am trying to work as a team with my husband and rebuild friendships in order to strengthen my heart. I am ready to be whole again. And come out of all of this stronger than ever.

Loss and New Beginnings.

I wrote this poem just this morning thinking about how much I love Ruthie, our beloved rescue who would have turned 12 this May. She blessed us with her love for what would have been three years in June. She died in my arms this afternoon, on the first day of spring at 1:25pm. Just like spring, she has awakened my love of writing again, and I will be forever grateful. Bean, you are already missed desperately. 

Mommy, its ok to Cry.

I was the oldest one by far in a cold and sterile place, 

All the workers loved me, it must have been my face. 

You and daddy came to meet me and rescued me that same day.

You even brought my brother, who was too lazy to play.

A little nervous at first, I dropped my head on your lap to say hi, 

that is the moment you became my mommy, and when I first saw you cry. 

It didn’t take too long to learn the rules of the house,

I, the queen of the castle, and Brother quiet as a mouse.

Snuggles, cuddles, kisses that was our everyday treat.

I was great at digging ditches to cool myself from the heat.

You would always come and go and I wondered why, 

Sometimes I would be bad, and I would make you cry.

I love to wear fancy things and play dress up, just like my mommy does.

Hats, and scarves, shirts and sweaters and even the occasional rug.

It kept you happy and close, and that was the ultimate high,

Mommy you were laughing so hard, that its ok to cry.

We moved across the country, our first family road trip

It was cold, uncomfortable and snowing no place to take a dip.

We arrived to Auntie’s farm in just the nick of time,

To surprise my sweet cousin’s and have them see me in my prime.

Trouble started with you and dad, and you said you would try, 

I knew it must be hard, because Mommy you would cry. 

Nicknames like snugs, peanut and bousel bean caused grin from ear to ear, 

Just like waiting for your return home and hearing the car pull in the rear.

I would run and play and chase cars down the fence like I used to in DC, 

All the people who would walk by thought I was cute and such a sight to see. 

I would dance and growl when I was hungry, and sing and howl and sigh

Making you roll your eyes in pleasure, I was thankful it didn’t make you cry.

We spent two whole years in Colorado, through storms with ice and snow,

I made some many new auntie’s and my family continued to grow. 

When Grandpa’s illness got worse, you made the call to say goodbye, 

Then you found out I was dying, and you began to cry.

Road trip number two had a whole different theme,

Getting me back to Georgia was your ultimate dream.

My life has been so much better since you rescued me from that place.

Snuggles, cuddles, and kisses linger all over my face. 

All dogs go to heaven, and its a wonderful place,

I know that you will see me there and I will kiss you on your face.

They say it makes you stronger, and that its ok, that’s true. 

Mommy its ok to cry, just like the big girls do.