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  • I love you like a person.
  • You frustrate me and drive me crazy.
  • I’ve been co-dependent, but I’m finding a way:
  • A way to love you without extinguishing my own fire,
  • And let YOU be who you are–who you always were.
  • In order to grow, I step away
  • And think of the ways it didn’t work.
  • But when I stumble,
  • You are constant.
  • You are there, taking me in.
  • You are in my blood–undeniably.
  • You strengthen me like Tara
  • And make everything okay.
  • Thank you
  • For allowing me to visit
  • For agreeing to be here
  • If I need you–
  • But not forcing me to stay

I didn’t understand this the first 400 times I saw it, but now I do.  Thanks, Tara.


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  • Ahhhhh, you.
  • You with your springtime, your azaleas, your Bobby Jones
  • Your magnolias and pimento cheese
  • Your seersucker, your khaki
  • Your golfcarts and antebellum
  • Your river, your swamp, your space, your time
  • Ahhhhh, you.
  • You with Your neighbor, your church, your chit-chat, your gossip
  • Your red clay of Tara
  • Your Pride
  • Your Hold
  • Your Draw
  • Ahhhhh, you.
  • Your top of the line guests and attention at
  • Your big Party
  • With your lack the rest of the year
  • They still play through in other seasons, but
  • No one sees beyond the Magnolia Gates
  • Ahhhhh, you.
  • Same as the day I left.
  • Your people making their own party
  • And doing all the same things
  • Without Me.
  • Who am I outside of You?

Nanny Wins a Rainy Day

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Today it is raining sideways north of Atlanta.

There is a little golf tournament in Birthtown that doubled up Sunday play so that the champion would be chosen in time.

The weather pros have been talking about this storm for a couple of days, so last night I planned to do a little “skip day” for church.  Until…..

Until Hubs asked, “What would Nanny do?”


I delivered Nanny’s eulogy a little over a month ago.  I told an anecdote about Nanny never allowing weather (good or bad) keep my brother and I (and previously my Mom and Uncle) from church.  She would say, “The devil tries to tempt us into staying home, but we won’t let him win!”  

I’m not into “devil” theology, but we all know evil exists everywhere.  I also know that I miss my Nanny very very very much.  I couldn’t let the “devil” win today–especially after the beauty of Hubs remembering a line in my eulogy and calling me out so definitively.

After driving in pouring rain and trudging through what Pa would call a gully-washer, I arrived in the sanctuary for some of the most moving words I have ever heard.  Don’t we all wonder why bad things happen to good people?  If God is good, why is X, Y, Z in the world?

I am so grateful.  I know Nanny meant for me to hear these words, and I would not have heard them on my own volition.  I bet you will feel her smiling on you from heaven if you take twenty minutes and listen too.  You don’t have to believe everything to believe something.  Humor us (Nanny and I) and play it in the background while you do laundry, cook, or complete some other chore–and “don’t let the devil win.”



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One of my best original quotes ever was made off the cuff in 2006 while being interviewed for a women’s weekly magazine in Birthtown.  I was all excited about being highlighted in the magazine only to discover the caption on the cover underneath my portrait read “Valentine’s Day for the Romantically Challenged.”  OOOOh geeez, can’t I catch a break?  I was single at the time and going through some really craptacular relationship stuff.


So here is my quote.  When asked why celebrate Valentine’s Day, I replied, “We need a holiday that reminds us to love each other for the same reason that all public restrooms have a sign posted that says ’employees must wash hands before returning to work.'”

So, for posting my own quote, I probably relegate myself to the group of people who laugh at their own jokes and fawn over their own reflections.  Oh well.

For some of us, telling others how we feel is natural, but for others, not so much.  Some of us need to hear that stuff and understand exactly what kind of waves are undulating from our loved ones’ grey matter.

Last night, Hubbs had a little truth serum and revealed some of his deepest darkest about our upcoming life transition (into parenthood) and its effects on his plans for business and our future.  As he went on, I realized that he’d been consumed with these thoughts for days on end.  Since he was mentally spent already, he asked me point blank what I’d like for Valentine’s Day.  I told him my wishes–exactly.  (Romantic, huh?)  He’s followed my suggestions beautifully so far, but the real gift was the meandering conversation that flowed into the wee hours of this special day: his profession of how our lives joined together and how he prepared for me before he found me.  LOVE.

P.S.  In two hours, we pursue the reservations for our candlelight dinner at WAFFLE HOUSE–novel, different, and fitting my cravings for all things potato.

Egg Heart

Scattered, smothered, covered, and chunked,



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Yesterday was my birthday….and it was awesome.  Phone calls, facebook wishes, gifts, out-to-eats, and a wonderful surprise trip to Birthtown to see my folks.  A whirlwind–and exactly what I needed.  I felt tremendous love and joy.  (Highlight included a special birthday call from Sister in Law–I was borderline giddy.)  I was able to get my mind off taboo subject miscarriage and feel support and love.

Now I’m back, and I feel almost lower than before I left.  I had hope of restoration/healing while being in Birthtown, and it was great while it lasted.  Maybe the anticipation of the visit over-inflated my spirits.  Maybe I’m moving to a different stage of grief.

Now, I’m back home, and I think my hormones are still haywire.  Tonite is supposed to be the birthday celebration between Hubbs and I.  I wish I could snap out of it and find the peace I felt on Monday after visiting the doctor:

  • God knows what he’s doing.  Trust him.
  • This is not our time for a baby.
  • Enjoy the last year of life before becoming parents.
  • I am healthy and normal–Recuperation will yield in the winter or next spring

Now, I’m just an emotional mess.  I don’t feel like Hubs can step out of his experience and imagine how I feel.  I couldn’t deny that life was growing inside me–especially with so many restrictions!  Now it’s just “poof/gone” and I am supposed to suck it up and move on.  In many ways, I know that we will both be better parents in 2013, but I am still sad.  I wish men could experience our rollercoaster of hormones for just one week–so then they would hug us when we are plagued with them (and not run away).

I have to face my in-laws on Easter and Hubbs has a different perspective on familial sharing.  I don’t want to feel like I’m sitting there with a big, fat, painful secret.  Somehow I feel more support in sharing, while Hubbs feels like if people know, they will make judgements, have pity, or get upset.

I might just have to call Mother-in-law anyway if my emotions don’t get better.  I have a cousin (by marriage) who endured three losses before her daughter was born.  I need to talk to someone that is real–not just a chatroom name on the internet.