Category Archives: Faith Hope and Love…and you’re good to go!

Sleepless in Solana



Easter Bunny!

I have always loved my blog: Loudmouthbirdie. I have sort of kept it a secret for years. Why Why Why I do the things I do. No one knows.Not even me.

Every morning I awaken to birds chirping excitedly like little mad hatters and I hear the ocean rolling in and out at nite. To top off the splendiforous symphony of nature,that beckons me to sleep and awakens me in the early morning glistening of daybreak, I let the musical sound of my windchimes blend it all together for a blissful recipe of mother nature’s glory.

I was sad last evening as I urged the ocean waves to lull me to sleep, as I had a big day ahead. I found myself sleepless in Solana, and decided to read something inspirational.

It worked soon enough, and as I peeked open my eyes in the twilight of the sunrise, I asked that the birdies chirpings of this day seep into my mind,heart and soul in a way that would caress and carry me through my new adventure called morning, with joy and hope and gratefulness. I felt as if I was riding a unicorn in the rainbow sky of new beginnings as I drank in the beautiful sounds of the outdoors.

I’m a fragile kid even though I am 64 in people years. I have had some scary attacks on my character as of late and I started to meander down the rabbit hole crossroads of “It’s probably terrible” and “It doesn’t martyr to me anyway ” street.

Well it is just so nice when you have kind people in your life and they leave you surprise Easter Bunny treasure hunt presents EARLY and then you get a whole other Easter package of wonderfulness in the mail EARLY and then your article on your new Children’s book,”Freddie and Bibelle” comes out a week EARLY and is full of charm and accuracy.

This is a special day. I am a lucky girl. I am loved, and as Loudmouth Birdie puts it…”Shower with love, watch blossom like flower.”




Today is Black Friday. This year it began last night ~ Thanksgiving evening. That does not sit well with me. I want to be the Control Freak of the Universe and tell everyone they need to stay put and feel grateful for their blessings on Thanksgiving and not rush out to get the best deal!  Ha! I guess they didn’t get my memo…..But that is really hither nor thither to my story.  Now that I will be turning sixty TWO in a few months…Rather than think of myself as getting “older” or elder or whatever other fancie schmancie word we want to call it….I’d rather think of myself as “a baby new to the sixties”, since I am at the lower scale of the sixties…60,61,62 versus almost 70, I think I’ll just go with that.  Funny, now that I think about it…the “sixties era”…was one of my favorites and one of the most history making, in my lifetime up until now.

I’ve been thinking a tremendous amount about my Mom and Dad as of late. I’ve talked with my sisters and they mention that they have been too. The Birtwell Tribe is one of the closest, classiest,craziest families I know, and I am so lucky and proud to be a part of this Tribe.. My Dad always called us his TRIBE. My Dad had so much love in him that I can see now, looking back. He had nicknames  for  Everybody and EVERYTHING! And so we all joined in with our own  lil nicknames as well.  Breakfast was “Pear bee Pear”.  Stephanie was Stettin. Barbara was Runty. Mary Jo was Pokey Jo Jo. Greg was Pesto Grego. Dean was Mr. O. I have many…Cacoo, Wowie, Caln….David, I don’t remember any for him….I know my Dad is David and his nickname was Did…then their were the sayings….”Go Child Go!” from Mom. “Rise and Shine” as she would lift open the blinds and wake us up for school. “Chintsy” if she thought someone was not generous with their time or money. My Dad called the boys that came a calling, to take us girls out on a date…”Skin Flints” if he didn’t care for them. Then there was “Baba Nan” which you would go to “The John” for….and when everything went awry which it always did..there was a defeatest slow… nod of the head, coupled with a faint smile from my Father, saying…”Nothing is Sacred Around here!”…..

In times of turmoil, my father use to say….”You can’t put an old head on young shoulders” .quoting HIS Father….the wise old Englishman. My Mother and Father were beautiful on the outside. Both of them. On the inside, they were generous, wise, and wanting the very best for their children. They raised seven children, with steadfast values, a great appreciation for the Arts and Culture,Athletics,( especially Tennis and Swimming) as well as a great respect for  the Ocean and Beach. A great love of food and keeping the kitchen clean, and “pitching in” and doing your share of chores were always a part of our everyday lives.   These jobs they volunteered us for, were usually set forth on the “Intercome” that each of us had in our bedrooms…announced with full Marine Flavor, by my Dad  at 7am on a Saturday Morning…The exact nature of our chores were revealed with  full reverie in  full detail and we were assured at the end that we would be going nowhere until each job was complete and passed inspection!  Ha Ha!   They gave each of us the  opportunities in life,that we leaned towards,  so that we could go out into the world and be a success as we grew up.I got piano lessons, ballet, and enjoyed many  Broadway Musicals. I was very lucky.  My Father whistled so loud, you could hear him down the street! He loved music. Both of my parents did and I would catch my Mama singing along to alot of songs, and my Dad played the piano “by ear” as does my son. 

Our home was always bustling with life. There were not so good things that happened as well, as is true  with any Tribe, and I had an especially hard time when those rumblings occurred, as like it or not, I am a very sensitive person. Sometimes I don’t like it, but mostly it makes me a kind, loving, compassionate human. I wish I had more of a choice about it, but I don’t

  I suprisingly left the nest and went out west to explore life and  college in the  Colorado Rockies. I’ve lived betwixed  and between and amongst,  alot of  beautiful places since, and  I’ve never moved back to be close to my brothers and sisters who are all  still on the East Coast. I now reside on the West Coast in lovely San Diego with my strapping young man of a son, close by.  We have lots of nieces and nephews and now THEY are all starting to have babies.

I wonder these days….why I left. I’ve yearned to be with my Tribe ever since my own little family shattered away into little pieces years ago.  The husband left and I had to re discover the meaning of family as some “new kind of normal”. Single Momhood. One child and one  me. So different then how I grew up, or how I wanted it to be.  I missed the chaos, loud music, and “bickering” but mostly I missed and still miss….the huge big LOVE.  It carried me thru everything. My parents and siblings gave me so many pearls, and diamonds. My siblings and I are very close and I adore all their children and their childrens children, but it is mostly from afar…and it just isn’t the same.  The Holidays always bring about these yearning sad feelings in me, but I don’t usually write about them. Alone, and lonely, are words I want to hide away from myself, but this year, I am going to embrace whatever is there. Maybe it will bring me back “home” more often. Maybe it will bring forth the miracle of how I can be an East Coast West Coast Commuter kind of girl. Maybe something different besides tears and yearnings will spring forth for me this “Christmastime in the City. “

The East Coast is freezing in the winter. I don’t like that. I love the snow tho. I love the quaintness and strength of the East Coast. But mostly I love my family so much. Each and everyone of them…the in laws…the out laws…the children the wives …the husbands, the babies, the new babies….We have a HUGE Tribe  now, and I know they all love me too. Love is always the answer for me. More love.  

I hope you, my reader…have a Tribe. Maybe you call it something else. I hope you can appreciate the pearls and diamonds of  YOUR Tribe. And I hope you can go to them when you are hurting. I hope before I leave this planet I can leave a legacy that is truely worth the  sacredness of the “Birtwell Name” for  I salute my Mother and Father for their  dedication, their perserverance, their love and strength and bravery, their whimsical humourous ways…that gave us all alot of great “generational handmedowns” for generations to come. 

The Most Beautiful Snow Dog


The only thing “good “about “bad.”…is getting that tingling feeling , when you let out a big sigh, and part of you knows…..”The over”. It’s not lollipops and sunshine yet, but it is no longer dread, and sobbing, and constant questioning…”Did I do the right thing? “. It is no longer the feeling that someone lit off a firecracker in your eyes and it hurts just to keep them open,because they have been gushing out waterfalls and buckets of fears, and sadness, and obsessive thinking, and  “Will I really be able to handle this?” Will I be ok ?  Will I be able to actually live on?  How will I navigate this new life? Kind of like divorce. Kind of like labor pains. Kind of like nothing else ever. Knowing it is the right time to let your beloved family member go …to hopefully a better place……I vowed I would never ever do this again in my life. One dog…in one lifetime was enough. Otis was beyond his last legs when I was tear and fear stricken, and  took him to the vet all my myself, more than 25 years ago.  I didn’t want him to leave me. I didn’t want to suffer more then he was suffering. “When you know better…you do better. ”  Or do you?”

Back and forth I ranted to myself.She wasn’t “Sick “enough. After all she could still walk. She couldn’t make it to her two favorite places any more, and she couldn’t wait sometimes to get outside before things came out of her. But she always ate her food. Labs LOVE to eat!  Labs love to play. Labs love the ocean. Things were revving up in a bad way for her all of a sudden now. I knew it was only going to get worse. Did she want to experience herself like that?   Did I???? I kept her dreadfilled Cushings Disease at bay for over a year and a half. My love…Soozie’s love…Coda’s love….and CUSHEX DROPS…..brought miracles and relief to her body, and she was able to fight off alot of the horrible things that tried to hunt down her body …but Peachie Girl has always been one strong, tough cookie, and she never complained about a thing, which also helped me believe she could just live on forever like the mouse in “The Green Mile”.

I could see in her eyes….when her dignity started to leave her. After all, she was a show dog in her younger years, before we were lucky enough to have her join our family.  We had to actually “untrain” some of her habits and teach her how to have a little more fun in life, which she took to immediately!  Now she had lost her ability to walk very far at all…just navigating the hallway to the elevator to get outside, was becoming fear filled for her. She had a few “accidents”. Not many. But I could tell, she was just mortified. Her face was losing it’s vigor and she started having that vacant..nobody is home look, every now and then.

I decided I was a terrible mother. I decided I had not done well by her. “If only” became my mantra. If only…I could have taken her to the beach every day…maybe the disease would not have come after her so hard. If only I didn’t work so much and had the time to take more time with her. If only I hadn’t listened to the Doctors …If only I knew the horrible side effects of prednisone years ago when she had to take so much for her constant ear infections…….My son reminded me that we must play with the cards we are dealt. Soozie reminded me of all the great things I have always done for Peachie…gotten her the right meds to keep her comfortable for so long. Giving her great healthy food, taking her to the Park and the Beach whenever I could. I was always rushing home to make sure she could go out when Soozie wasn’t able to….

After much crying, and many sleepless nites, I was able to decide I had to get myself and my selfish wants of keeping her with me no matter what….out of the way. I had to let her keep her dignity, and have an incredible time before she left the planet to hopefully go on to a place with less pain, and more mobility. This was most difficult for me. I felt like a murderer. Who do I think I am to decide her life’s fate?  When I realized….that she was unable to do her favorite things anymore….when I realized that if I were in her position…what I would want…when I remembered my core beliefs about life and death and that I don’t think this is it….I think we recycle into something else that is familiar …surrounded by beings we have known…yet a new world to learn and cultivate….I was finally able to choose. That didn’t mean the voices in my head stopped chastizing me….but it did give me a little more resolve. I prayed. I cried. I prayed. I decided.

We took Peachie to the Beach and she frolicked as best she could, in the waves with her beloved master since she was a puppy….my son. She ate ice cream. Haggen dazs. Vanilla. We took her to the vet. They were kind beyond imaginable. They gave her a sedative to help her go to sleep. She started snoring REALLY LOUD…which made us all laugh unexpectedly and broke the silence of sadness in the room. She gave us that gift. Then she left. She was finally able to rest. I swear she flew off somewhere really fast! She was relieved. Right before she left us, she nuzzled up to my son so tight…..she adored him more than anything in life. It felt like she was giving him everything she had left of herself and her sweet soul.

I miss her. I went to give my other pup dinner tonite and I just automatically reached for her bowl too. I know I will be doing those things. I still have cringes and crying jags. I get really sad. But I also feel happy when I look at the photos of her last day at the beach and how happy she was …playing with my son…I know I will miss her for the rest of my life here on earth. I know I will for I still miss my Oatie Boy. But I suppose…these are the agonies and the ecstasies of love. I feel like an orphan somehow. I am not sure how to move forward now, but I know if I am easy on myself these things will come forth to me. She will help me. I know she will. She will always be my favorite “Snow Dog”  who I will always cherish in my heart forever and ever.

Love Peach. Peach is Love.

Annihilation and Chaos


I miss somebody. But I don’t know who it is.  Someone thought my eyes were flowers, and used a watering can. The feverent stream of tears, cascading down my face,are now looking for a more suitable place to land. All I really know is that my heart hurts. I want to take my marbles and make a new home for myself. On a different planet. Far away from here. I want to leave skid marks on the way out the door. I am angry. I am sad. I am astonished but not in a good way. 

Dressed in Black. Ready to kill. to Annihilate. Mission Accomplished. A happy day at the movies…even more enchanting since it was late in the evening. Happens to be one of my favorite super heroes. My son declared he must have all things Batman when he was a Toddler. Batman Cape, Batman Cars, Batman Costume~ head to toe. My stomach is sick. I wish I could be the elephant in the living room. I wish it would just go away. I wish I could just minimize it as another crazie person lashing out at innocent victims. I’ve recently experienced the dominoe  effect of a tragedy that happened close to home. How very many people  become shattered hearts in an unexpected instant. How many lives get changed. The tinge of darkness and despair,lurking silently or not so silently at their hearts door……The extent of this horror…I cannot begin to fathom. I don’t want to. I don’t want any part of it. Yet I am part of it, because I am an American. Still proud to be an American. But I am losing my hope in humanity.

Buried Treasure


       It is late night on a Saturday. I find myself driving home from work, listening to “Gymnopedies”, feeling very contemplative. There is some kind of mournful joy about this classical piece that always brings me some strange, bewildering kind of peace. It’s like my “Manya” …my security blanket when I was a little kid. I feel safe and comforted. Everything, is going to be ok. 

Well. Since I moved to California, 17 months ago, I have been on this secret mission of uncovering the truth about who I really am. I thought I moved here for a whole different reason.  I was wrong. I have been “forced” to discover  what I am made of. What I have been running from. I went from a high profile kind of  career to an almost invisible “worker” on what many people would call, the low totem pole of life. My “self” has been coming out “sideways” with a vengeance. It apparently is safe for me here in my beloved California to finally reach deep within and discover, my “buried treasure.” I have wanted to come back to my California…ever since I left…almost like a forlorn love affair, I have been carrying on with for years….a secret, wistful affair of the heart.

It’s really all I can do to work this simple, mostly physical kind of job. The rest of my life is putting a very scattered, tattered, yet beautiful puzzle together. Finding pieces on the ground…not knowing where they go…then, BOOM!  It’s all of a sudden very painfully obvious where they belong. I have awakened from a dream of denial…. A sleeping beauty Diva of sorts….

I have been following Whitney Houston’s death, as if it were my own. I am driven and compelled and there is no use trying to fight it.   Of course, it didn’t help matters (except to make it really eerie for me)….that she went to be with God, on my Birthday this year. The stages I have sung on had maybe 500 people at most and I remember the terrifying feelings…the burden, as Kevin Costner so elequently put it…the burden of trying to hold all the questions…”Will they like me? ” Will I remember the words?”   “Will I be able to be myself in such a surrealistic experience?” I’m very small potatoes compared to the things she has experienced. And then to have such a golden voice, and feel that you lost it…..I cannot even imagine the angst and the fears, and so much more.

There were many things in my life when I was younger that took my attention away from developing my many talents that God so graciously gave me. I feel that I am at a very special time in my life  now, in that, I am re discovering my buried treasure. The treasure that is me. The hopes and dreams that got buried inside because of my circumstances and the choices I made, many of which were to merely survive what just happened. Bury it and move on. That was my motto….and “Make sure you leave skid marks on the way out…”

I was in deep despair a few months ago,  and a very close friend asked me…”Why am I the keeper of your secret?” Why aren’t you sharing this with the other people who love you?  Well I am lucky enough….to have those people. “My people” will walk thru fire for me….but they need to know that I am in danger. It has always always been so hard for me….to ask for help when I am in trouble…when I don’t know where to turn or what just even happened. I am one of the lucky ones tho. I am learning how. Did Whitney know how? Did Michael? Did Janis?  So so many more…..Is it really “easier” to become intimate with our drug of choice…than a human being?  Sometimes it is. Sometimes just getting some moments of relief….a night….a week …a life time.

But there is nothing better than discovering buried treasure!  You know when you were little and you found some wonderful thing in the sand while you were building your sand castles….well I think we are all diamonds in the rough. We are all “beauties”. There is not another “me ” on this earth right now, nor is there another you!  Whitney was a true pure diamond. She knew it for some of her life. For some of her life, she did not. We all need to build each other up. “Acknowledgement is the hallmark of success” says Charlie Chaplin. Entertainers in my opinion, are one of the most giving kind of humans on earth. The show must go on no matter what….and there are always ….alot of “no matter whats”. People have “performed” under the most dire of circumstances, and it can ironically be a very lonely experience.

Whitney is now, as of today….a buried treasure. I will never know why it all went down the way it did for her. I will never know the agonies that her  close family and loved ones must now endure with her being gone out of there lives, just like that! ….I know she sang like no one I have ever heard. I know that she loved deeply and she was loved deeply. I am left with much sadness that her “light” has travelled on.  She died on the day I was born into this world. She has inspired me to find all the rest of the pieces of my puzzle so that the rest of my life will shine. It will no longer be clouded and shrouded over by past misdeeds of others….I don’t have to run anymore.  I’m almost done with finding my own buried treasures: My hopes as a child, my dreams as an adolescent. My dreams right now.

Whitney knew it was never too late….she was beginning anew. She was getting ready to “Sparkle” once again. She had started to look at her buried treasures. I just wish the lights could have stayed on a little longer for her. We all must carry on the torch, by trying with all our might, to be true to who we are. Who we really are. The ceremony that her Mother prepared for her today was four hours of pure, deep, music and emotion and moving words of honor and grace and diamonds for Whitney Elizabeth Houston. I hope all of her demons are finally laid to rest, and I hope that we can all now have the courage to bring forth our own  buried treasures, and leave the demons behind, where they belong.

Let’s “all shine on…like the moon, the stars, and the sun.”  I will miss that “Golden Voice” and the big treasured  ball of light  that tried so vehemently to shine amidst the turbulent seas of self doubt.

“A Blink of an Eye…”


  I just got inspired by my dear friend and fellow blogger to write something. I love it when that happens!  The part about Christmastime that I love the most, are the magical lights that  are mischieviously nestled in the most unexpected places…on rooftops….on railings, on the side of a beautiful home. They are the “unexpected joys” to behold as one drives..or better yet,  one strolls on by hand in hand with their loved ones. Christmas can be a festival of grace and love. It can also bring us into a place of lonliness and despair if we let our mind hold the reigns for too long.

I fell down a flight of stairs last nite. Couldn’t even tell you what happened. It wasn’t slippery. I have been very stressed as of late. I could tell you my sad stories but why? It ‘s like one of the “Old Timers” telling their tales of sickness…My father always liked to say…”I could “complain” but who wants to listen?”  The miracle is…(and Christmas truely is a time of miracles for all of us.) The miracle is for me…that I am CHOOSING to expect what I WANT…not what appears to lie before me. (Ha Ha! Pun intended!)

I continue to be grateful for the many many blessings I have around me. I continue to be grateful for the many blessings I feel coming my way and it fills me up in a “whole” different kind of way.

Take my son for instance. He is the  one that is smiling from ear to ear  on your right, as you view  the photo above. He is now almost 24. He is my best teacher. He is kind,GENIUS  kind of smart (ok, I’ve  got my brag book out now!) he is generous, he is an old soul full of love. And he is very funny. He  unabashedly loves me so much! Take my family: they are all so Regal to me. Princes and Princess’s living their lives, giving their generousities and love to the world where ever they see the need. They keep me filled with hope. Take my roomie. She many times, silently loves me thru the thick and the thin. We have great coffee klatch talks with our delicious “butterfly coffee” and we come to new awakenings about ourselves and our worlds.

These and so much more are my “festival of lights”…my reasons for loving myself through the rough patches. These are the secret lights, mischieviously nestled in the most unexpected places..If we look…we all have our “holders of the light and hope” for us, our street light beacons…kind of people in our lives. My son has grown from a teeny tiny miracle in my tummy, to a huge beacon of light for me…in a blink of an eye!  I know that troubles come and go…in a blink of an eye…but it certainly can feel like a lifetime of trouble when it is happening “to you”. When I feel that “trouble comes lookin for me”, especially at Christmastime, I know that those beacons of light on the rooftops, the railings, the trees, the snowmen, the wreaths on the door….everywhere you look…those are my messages to let MY light shine, no matter what my “circumstances” appear to be, and to trust in faith,hope and love, and LIGHT!

The Eleventh Day of September~ The “Decade of Hope”


I was excited about the upcoming wedding of my Nephew. It was in New York City. My son was 13. We were excited to go and be with our big family once again. Any time we could be with all of them was a very special occasion indeed,  and we had been looking forward to it for months. It was the morning of September 11th, 2001. My son was in school, and I was getting ready to leave for work. His Dad called me on the phone and told me to turn on the television to NBC and to call him after I saw the buildings. I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought perhaps it was a movie he had something to do with. Until I watched the screen in the early hours of that morning in my living room. Everything inside of me felt like I had just died, as I stood frozen in time. We all remember where we were when we heard, when we saw. Maybe you were one of the sacred ones who was actually there. Bless your heart.

Everyone but us went to the wedding. I couldn’t  bring myself to get on a plane. I was full of fear.  It was only days after this horrendous disaster. I looked many places for beautiful red white and blue material to wrap my wedding gift in to send to them instead of sending myself.  I don’t even remember what I bought them but I remember every detail of the fabric that I was obsessed with finding, to wrap their gift in. It was soft and kind and gentle and beautiful. I was so elated when I spotted it,that I pulled it up close to my face and buried the burage of tears in it that came cascading down. I wanted to feel like that again. Soft,kind,gentle and beautiful. I wanted the whole world to feel like that again. It would be a long time. We all became somber,stoic Americans. But we all pulled together.

American Flags were everywhere. They were on Door steps, Flagpoles,Schools,Streets,Windows, Cars,Airports. People were crying. Out loud. To no one. People were holding there heads down low. People were sad. Very sad and shocked and so very grief stricken. My brother in law started singing America The Beautiful in a Restaurant and handed out American Flags and everyone joined in with their tears and their patriotic song. It was a full of feeling time all over the world. I gave out little red white and blue flags in my Music class for the Children and the Mothers that historical morning: The Eleventh Day of September. We marched around to “This Land is Your Land”. I  remember how grateful the Moms were to have an American Flag in their hands. When I told them they could keep the Flags, you would have thought they won the lottery. The children looked more beautiful then ever to me that morning.  The American Flag became a very fast disappearing,treasured, high commodity in those days following.

NPR…National Public Radio, is the home of  one of my favorite avenues of  adventure. All week they have been telling so many  stories. Stories of the hope and the love that these heroes left behind in their families…The Dads, the Moms, the FireFighters, the Police. The children who were just being born, are now ten years old. They are telling there stories. Lady bugs are spotted close by…and these children know…their Dad is about to tell them something wonder filled from up in heaven because a ladybug just landed on their water glass.  People lived who should have been crushed by the buildings. They were on the fourth floor. Fire Fighters,Police, and Corporate Bosses helped people get out, and they didn’t make it out themselves. Everytime I hear a new story, I stand and I cry because I feel the strength and the bravery of the person telling their sorrow to the world. It has to be a sacred,unique, agonizing passage in life, for those who were there…for those who have lost their beloveds….for those who are still here. For those who are no longer with us.  I can’t begin to imagine the depths to which love reaches inside their souls. The lonliness. The never answered questions. The guilt. The rage. The forgiveness that maybe comes….in time. My Mama always told me ..”Time heals all wounds”. Does it? Will it?  Will this ever be “healed”?

I know for me. This Sunday will be a very reverent, sacred day. A day  for me to reflect and remember and carry on my life with a red white and blue heart. There will be love and hope for a better time. There will be gratefulness to see how our world will respectfully celebrate the passage of ten years. I know I will see children carrying the little flags…toddling down the avenue in the way that only they can pull off and I will cry. I will cry for I will be putting all my hope into their hearts and soul. I hope so much that  they will find the resolve to melt away the hatred that is still so very prevalent in our world today. I will hope. For that is what I do.


“LUV U BYE!” A Single Mom’s Guide To Serenity.


My son Dakoda and I made a pact a long time ago. If we ever had to leave each other when we were still having a disagreement,we would always say “Luv U…BYE!” matter what. He is now 12 years old: a month away from being a teenager. It’s a bright beautiful morning in Delray Beach Florida and we’re on our way to school…late! We are not morning people.We’re night owls who thoroughly enjoy playing loud music and giggling,and dancing the night away. Morning always comes too soon and we scurry around trying to get out the door to school and work. I usually play my Mom role correctly and shoo him off to bed at  an early enough hour to get his proper rest.However, this was one of those mornings when everything went wrong and we were both blaming each other for the looming fact that we were now  late.

Our snippy attitudes towards one another escalated into a power play with the radio. If we weren’t going to listen to each other’s complaints, we could at least listen to our common denominator~music. He turned it up full blast. I turned it down and so went our “what seemed to take forever” ride to school.

He haughtily got out of the car, tossed his head in the air, turned back,looked right at me and for a quick moment, he said those treasured words…LUV U BYE! I turned away as if he didn’t exist. He walked slowly off towards the entrance of the school and looked back at me one last time. I had been watching his tall frame disappear into the concrete and when I saw that beautiful face again,I tried to say with my silence that “I wish I said LUV U BYE! to you. I wanted to, but my lips and heart stood frozen in time, and all I could do was watch him disappear into his day..rejected. he had the courage to take the high road,while i drove off down the low road of shame feeling helpless and alone.

I felt a tear trickle down my face as I pulled up to a red light. What is so important about “being right” in a fight or disagreement when you lose everything else?  What if, God forbid,this would be the last time I ever saw my child?

I pulled over and started to write a letter to my son. I acknowledged his bravery. I told him what a treasure he was to me and how much I loved him. I told him I made a mistake and that I was sorry. I sighed a big sigh and I drove back to the school. I got to give him his letter in person, as the nice gentleman in the office called him out of his class.

As he came walking in, a big smile crept onto his face as he spotted me. I could tell he knew why I was there. He read part of the letter, then leaned over,gave me a hug and kiss, and hurried off towards the door. Just before he disappeared this time,he grinned at me and said “LUV U BYE!” I laughed,oh so gratefully back,”LUV U BYE!” My heart felt full and my head was held high as I skipped gleefully back to my car ever so thankful that love and listening to my heart once again prevailed!