Thank you for getting through.
Thank you for all you do!
Thank you for breathing.
Thank you for receiving.
Thank you for believing.
Thank you for achieving.
Thank you for giving life meaning.
Thank you for speaking freely.
Thank you for sometimes taking it easy.
Thank you for sometimes being the only one believing in me.
Thank you for looking at myself and uplifting me.
Thank you to the person I grew to be.
Thank you to yours truly.

You got this! even when you think you don’t
When things get dark and results seem unknown
Understand that giving up isn’t an option
And we can’t allow ourselves to drown in our emotions
Everybody has some rough days, I know I had the worst
And I done been ignored by people I love when I told them I was hurt
But a lot of people don’t even know how to show up for you
And everyone can’t really relate to what you are going through
But Don’t dwell on those thoughts don’t look for no false reality
Just Focus on you and be who you aspire to be
Cause Real people gonna be in your corner if you do the same
And wack people gonna show they true colors they can’t help but to be lame!
Just Focus, and just stay the course
Dead all them negative thoughts, no remorse!
That negative spiral will get you caught in a trap
Being too real to the fake will leave YOU unhinged and not intact
And they are looking for a refill yet your cup is empty
Meanwhile they still half full and won’t even share any with me
But if you let them win then that makes you a loser
You should be concerned only with how to get them out your life sooner
Cause At the end of the road this life is over
Meanwhile you wasting time going out sad looking for a sign or some closure
And I know people who love deep find it hard to detach
But if you go today it’s giving settle for less would be your only impact
When you set boundaries the people who love you will respect them
And if you really setting boundaries you can’t buckle down for her or for him
You gotta show people that you deserve a soft life
If you don’t show them how they supposed to see that shit right?
And I know that’s not an easy task
But much better than living life behind a mask
Being miserable every day is a crazy life
But imagine living with regrets in the afterlife
Don’t be malicious to people ever, but be true to you more than anyone
Always remember when your cup was empty and they had some they had no problem leaving you with none
And not taking care of yourself is self abuse and toxic
People pleasing is manipulative as fuck… it’s a mind trick
Cause scraping up something to give someone what you don’t have
I think that might be the beginnings of creating a psychopath
Cause when you thirsty and your cup empty you start thinking crazy
Depression and anxiety co exist while you dying of thirst but they hydrated!
Then when their cup starts running low they like here you can have a sip
Then they like “Just make sure when you done can refill my shit”
So focus on happy no matter who you have to leave behind
Life is short we really don’t have too much time
Pour into yourself and if your cup overflows you can give them a lil drip sometimes

You did not deserve that. You didn’t realize it at the time, but you and her both had to go through it, for something bigger that made no sense to you at all. It was understandable why you felt the way that you did, but you have no idea how wrong you were. You were not a meek little girl with no chance of happiness in your life, although you couldn’t see that yet. You were always worthy of being loved.

Our half-siblings stood behind you in the bedroom doorway in the middle of the night, watching the crash of our parents’ marriage. Our father grabbed the heavy glass ashtray with old cigarettes butts still in it and threw it across the room, aiming for our mother.

She ducked and the ashtray hit the wall and shattered to pieces, along with any last string of hope they had for each other. She shut the door and told him to choose us or the alcohol.

He chose alcohol. He also told her that you were coming with him and when she fought him on it, they held you suspended in the air, asking who you wanted to go with. How could they ever think that was fair? You were three years old and had no idea what you wanted. You picked the first person you made eye contact with, which was mom, and you chose to stay with her. You made your bed and would surely lie in it, but one day, it would all make sense.

After dad left, she became a single mother of three children and we grew up in unsafe and poor neighborhoods. We were constantly moving homes because rent was raised or she wasn’t able to pay the bills. We were on a constant loop of moving places and schools and going to stay with friends or family.

On our 10th birthday, she was about to leave for work and was crying. She told us she felt guilty that she could only afford one cupcake and one Barbie doll, unwrapped. We knew how tight money was, so this meant even more and we were so excited for the gift. She may not have known it, but we really looked up to her for working so hard to put a roof over our heads, regardless of the moving, lack of birthday gifts, and the amount of time she was away for work.

There was a point that it all changed and she broke. Growing up, we knew she had depression and it ran in her side of the family, but we didn’t know what we were going to learn when we got older. I know that there isn’t anything in this world that you wanted more than for her to show up as a mother.

When you told her about being sexually abused by a family member, she told you that your siblings didn’t believe you and found out years later, she never told them. When you told her about a different family member trying to touch you, she said he did that to her all the time, and she wasn’t surprised…and yet she let you stay the night there.

In the beginning of 7th grade, she picked you up from school telling you that she met a guy online, was in love and was moving that night to go live in another state to be with him. She offered for you to go with her or with her brother and his wife. This will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

With both of your parents leaving you, you’ll wonder how anybody could ever love you if the people that were programmed to love you couldn’t. You’ll go through many long years fighting abandonment issues, depression and anxiety.

When you are 18, you’ll be reunited with your long-lost father. You will learn that you have a 50% chance of having Huntington’s disease, which is a genetic neurological disease in his family. You’ll learn that there isn’t a cure, it attacks any part of your brain it wants to, and you’ll be faced with a choice to get tested at 18.

You had to go through it all to become the brave woman that you are. You’ll choose to get tested and will be diagnosed, but it won’t hold you back in life. You’ll find the best man who adores you and knows how deserving of love you are.

You will use writing as a coping mechanism to help deal with the chaos after she left, and you will fall deeply in love with words, hoping to help heal others through them.

She had to go through her own journey, and so did you to see how beautiful life was going to be.

Oh heart that beats within my chest,
I pause to thank you—my quiet guest.
For every step, though fraught with pain,
For battles fought, for losses gained.
You’ve walked the fire, you’ve braved the storm,
And kept my spirit whole, my soul warm.

When life was cruel and brought me low,
When tears fell fast, when hope ran slow,
You knelt in prayer, your will unbowed,
And found strength where none was allowed.
From those moments, stripped and bare,
You rose anew, a force so rare.

You taught me courage lives inside,
A strength no trial could ever hide.
Though fear may whisper, “It’s too much,”
You answered back with faith as such:
“I am more than the shadows claim,
A child of light, of love, of flame.”

Oh self, I thank you for standing tall,
For finding grace when I could fall.
You’ve held integrity close, in view,
A compass steady, a path so true.
You’ve stood for others, the voiceless crowd,
Their silent pleas—your actions loud.

For John, whose justice fuels my fire,
You brought me faith, you raised me higher.
To Father Jim, whose wisdom speaks,
You led me close in my soul’s peaks.
Their names, like seeds, in my heart grow,
Their legacy—my life’s bright glow.

In “What Does Your Garden Grow,” I penned,
The Spirit’s fruit, where trials end.
Through every “Godwink,” every sign,
You reminded me of love divine.
From my father’s passing, grief’s sharp sting,
You turned my mourning to blossoming.

And for the scholarships, pledged with care,
A tribute born from love’s deep prayer.
To give back, to plant seeds anew,
This, dear self, is the best of you.

The journey taught what words can’t frame,
That good endures, though evil maims.
Even if justice hides its face,
The righteous path is still the race.
For there’s a war, unseen yet clear,
But faith casts out the darkest fear.

To my faith, you’ve brought me near,
To whispers of a God who hears.
Each trial, each tear, has shaped this truth:
That light outlives the shadow’s tooth.
And though the road was scarred and steep,
Your steadfast steps my soul will keep.

So thank you, self, for being strong,
For knowing where the weak belong.
For fighting battles, unseen, unknown,
For making every trial your own.
For finding God in grief’s embrace,
And building gardens out of waste.

Oh heart within, my faithful guide,
Through darkest nights and shifting tides,
I thank you now, and every day,
For walking steadfast in God’s way.
For teaching me that love must reign,
And through it all, my faith sustains.

Yes, good will triumph, this I see,
If not in life, in eternity.
And every step, though hard to take,
Has led to truths that cannot break.
So here I stand, and here I bow,
To thank the me who lives here now.

With love, with pride, with deepest grace,
I see the light within your face.
And know, dear self, you’ve won the fight—
A beacon burning in the night.

Hello my Dear,
There are some things I have been wanting to say.
Things that I need to express from my heart
about the hopes and dreams,
and the other big things you had planned for me from the start.
Thank you.

The tough times
The rough times
The enough times
All those times that you stood alongside,
helping me to gather myself from the inside.
Deep down where no one could see or hear
not wanting to face what even I feared.
Thank you.

This is about giving thanks.
Thanks to you, My Dear.
Thank you for helping me to grow over 5 decades and 5 years.
Again, I say thank you.

From a shy little girl to a woman with a voice,
using my words to express how I really feel,
while learning to set boundaries has been the biggest deal.
Thank you.

Understanding that I am worthy to be in someone’s space and feel safe.
I am worthy of another’s time.
Their prime time, not to be mistaken for their spare time.
Thank you.

Showing that I have a heart of gold,
and that I care deeply for those I hold close.
While also knowing that if love and friendship are not reciprocated,
it is okay for me to let go as a way of protecting my core,
the most valuable thing I have….that would be me of course.
Letting go does not mean not loving or caring anymore,
it’s just a way of preserving one’s soul.
Thank you.

I Love hard and I work hard.
I have accomplished many things because of you,
with the understanding that we are never through.
Highly educated while making it my life’s work to educate others.
An entrepreneur and a published author,
these are just a few things that I’ve brought to fruition because of you.
So I will continue to Thank you.

I could say Thank You a million times over and it would never be enough.
Without you believing in me this road would be tough.
So I salute you My Dear for showing me how to be free
and opening my eyes to see.
It is you My Dear who is me.
Thank you.

To the Child Inside the Storm,

Thank you.

Thank you, for holding on when you were ready to let go.
When you try so hard but never measure up to expectations.
When you became a disappointment instead of “Daddy’s Little Girl.”
When the words, “I’m proud of you” are never spoken.
Thank you, for holding on when you were ready to let go.

Thank you.

Thank you for stepping out, when you wanted to run away.
For giving him your number and meeting face to face.
For having the courage to move hours away from “home.”
For putting pen to paper the first time after an accidental OD.
Thank you for stepping out, when you wanted to run away.

Thank you.

Thank you, for finding strength when you were paralyzed inside.
When you hear the words “stage 4 cancer, it doesn’t look good.”
When you lose your only true friends within months of each other.
When you have to say, “Good-bye” and feel life abandon the one you love.
Thank you, for finding strength when you were paralyzed inside.

Thank you.

Thank you for loving again, when you’ve endured devastating loss.
For taking a chance and getting married to a man you thought you knew. .
For choosing natural birth and embracing ALL of the pain.
For finding life and love in the eyes of your “special angels”
Thank you for loving again, when you’ve endured devastating loss.

Thank you.

Thank you, for choosing life when all hope and desire to live was gone.
When your marriage becomes a nightmare instead of a dream come true.
When you start to believe “you’re crazy” and “don’t deserve the respect you’re demanding.”
When you almost end it all with a bang and choose Christ instead.
Thank you, for choosing life when all hope and desire to live was gone.

Thank you.

Thank you for choosing surrender, when the road ahead was unknown.
For trusting God and moving back to your hometown.
For finding your people, purpose, and passion.
For stepping into your vulnerability and unveiling your strength.
Thank you for choosing surrender, when the road ahead was unknown.

Thank you.

Thank you, for your acceptance when all you’ve known is rejection.
When your inner child stops hiding and learns to be silly again.
When you show off your style even if you walk alone.
When you learn to love yourself, just as you are.
Thank you, for your acceptance when all you’ve known is rejection.

Thank you.

Thank you for never giving up on me, when I had nothing left to give.
For standing strong even when you can’t move forward.
For seeing beauty in the sunrise after a raging storm.
For finding a reason to laugh, love, and live again.
Thank you for never giving up on me, when I had nothing left to give.

To the Child Inside the Storm,

Thank you.

Thank you for being a Little Girl with a Warrior’s Heart.

Mrs. Clarke,
Thank you for opening your heart. You remained the accused hopeless romantic, but you knew the reward would be gigantic. You opened it to players, liers, and manipulators. Your heart was bruised, flipped and put in refrigerators. Yet, you opened it again, and again; so it was ready for when. When the right one came along. I thank you for holding on. Six years you dated, six years you waited and I thank you for your patience. You knew love was real, so you learned to heal. Then you tripled your heart with 3 little Clarkes. From Akeva to Mrs. Clarke, mom, just me and now Key. Thank you for being everything you knew you could be. Your life back then was OK, but you traded it, just to say momma I’m making it. Big dreams of writing scenes, were suppressed but you always debated it. So you wrote, and every stroke, brought light into your life. You wrote the pain, you wrote the gain, you wrote to just maintain. So thank you, for never dropping the pen, so the life you were meant for could begin.

Dear Alanoud,
Just breathe….
I know there are moments when you look at your health journey and ask, “Why me?” and that is a valid question. You’ve faced challenges that many might never fully understand—four major surgeries, countless battles, and a journey that demands more from you than anyone could expect. I know your life is put on hold at the moment. Yet, despite it all, you have chosen to persevere. Just continue breathing.
I want you to know how deeply I admire your strength even though sometimes I don’t believe in you. Life has tested you in ways that could have left anyone feeling defeated, but you’ve shown resilience in the face of it all. You’ve continued to fight, not because it’s easy, but because you have a strength within you that refuses to give up. With every challenge, you’re proving to yourself and the world just how much you can endure.
You’ve looked at this battle, with all its pain and struggle, and said, “I’m thankful because it’s making me stronger.” That perspective—the ability to find growth in adversity—is a gift, and I know how long it took to have this mindset. It’s a reflection of your courage, your wisdom, and your belief in something greater: the possibility of becoming even more powerful and grounded because of what you’ve endured.
With each scar and each struggle remember this: you are not defined by the hardships you’ve faced but by how you’ve chosen to face them—with grace, determination, and an open heart. Your journey is uniquely yours, and it is shaping you into someone even more extraordinary than you already are.
Keep going, Alanoud. Keep asking, keep growing, and keep fighting. I know we have a long way to go. You are more powerful than you know, and this battle is shaping you into the strongest version of yourself.
Proud of you,
Alanoud

Three hundred sixty-five days. I’d gone without being with my mother.
She stood at the top of the stairs waiting—for her only daughter to come home to her.
My tears embraced her as her arms wrapped around me.
Heart over heart.
Finally, I thought, breathe.
I like to hold on to that memory.
Twenty days. I had with my mother that summer. It hadn’t mattered much to me at the time.
The days.
I’d always known there would be more. Until there wasn’t.
I hope one day it brings comfort.
Now. It just burns.
All I can do is remember.

My chest rises and falls in rapid bursts, the oxygen I force inside slicing my lungs like waves shattering against a fractured cliff. Thank you for breathing. Thank you.

Four months. Tears knot in my throat as I struggle to find comfort within these four walls untouched by the tips of fresh acrylics.

Soggy pillow sheets. Wet cheeks. Cracked lips.
I trek through a forest of clothes dirty and clean. They form mountains in the dark corners of the room. There is nowhere for me to go, no comfort to run to and still I move.
And, I thank you for moving. Thank you.

Water sways from the horizon, pushing and pulling at the shore. Seasalt swirls through my snot-filled nostrils. But, my nose begs for the smells of herbs, oil and incense, of expensive perfume, occasionally bought and always worn. It begs so much it bleeds.
And, I thank you for smelling. Thank you.

Salt carves unforeseen paths down my cheeks, crashing against chattering teeth. Metal swirls red from aching gums, crying lips, begging nostrils, and screaming cuticles. I imagine that it’s my mother’s homemade spaghetti I taste, not the blood from my own fingers. I imagine my burning gums are from all the spice I begged she add to every meal, pain we once welcomed with shared laughter.
And, I thank you for tasting. Thank you.

The waves race against one another to reach the shore. They calm as they near the edges of my feet, wrapping my rough skin in a kind embrace like that of kisses from a new mom onto her baby’s feet, unscarred. The rush of moments once lived flow from one ear and out the other. Murmured chatter of old phrases, jokes, and music shared pass through the winds of time, bouncing around the inside of my mind unwillingly.
Still, I thank you for listening. Thank you.

Five days. I left my mother for five days. She hugged me when I left. We’d made plans for the holidays. Five days.

The landscape is blurred by the bubbling in my eyes. The color drains from the skyline as I am forced to welcome the night in. Trees bend at the beckon of the passing breeze. Leaves flutter like that of a butterfly’s wings. The individual black curls that wrap around my face shine in the glowing moon, just like my mother’s once had.
Even more so, I thank you for seeing.

Twenty one years. I lived on the foundation of my mother’s love. Seven months. I waited to see her. Twenty-seven days. I had not known pain.

I know pain.
I know when the salt stings, when the waves roar, the heart cries and the brain burns as unsaid words, unforgotten failures, missed moments—three hundred sixty-five days—fight to escape and there is no mother to call you home, no mother to wake you, no mother to love you, no mother to move you, no mother to know you, no mother to listen to you, no mother to calm you, and no mother to warm you.
I know.
And I thank you.
I thank you.
All I can do is breathe.
All you can do is breathe.
So, I thank you for breathing, through the stabbing in your chest.
For moving, against the pressure of an unrelenting pain.
For tasting, though there are flavors that will never touch the tip of your tongue again.
For smelling, the smoke of fires you stop yourself from sparking.
For listening, when there are no words to heal you.
For seeing, when you don’t recognize the reflecting brown eyes.
For feeling, when it is easier to succumb.
Thank you.
Thank you for staying.
In a life that is at its most impossible.
Thank you for staying.
In a place that you would not be blamed for fleeing.
Thank you for staying.
In this moment.
With all the suffering it brings.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you for loving. Me. Even when the love seems as though it will not go anywhere. It will not change anything. You still do.
Amber.
If I haven’t said it enough.
Thank you for breathing.

OUR STORY ISN’T OVER YET

You made it…you’re still in one piece and alive so you did it. Your whole life you have only had two fears. The fear of dying and the fear of losing a child. Strangely enough you always worried that “losing” them meant death but never in your wildest dreams did you think losing them while they were still alive was even an option.
Then it happened, you got yourself out of an abusive relationship never thinking that someone would be so vengeful, so hateful, so spiteful, cruel and malicious that they would turn your own sons against you with horrendous lies. The same sons that you devoted your entire life to. People would say your whole face would light up when you spoke about them. You truly without any second to think would have given your life for any of them and to this day still would in spite of the fact that your heart is broken into a million different piece. How could this have possibly happened and how did you survive your worst fear coming true? I still marvel that you are alive after the thoughts that I know went through your mind on a regular basis.
There are days that I don’t even know how you functioned. Crying non stop as soon as you closed the door to the outside world I thought for sure would either break you or you would simply run out of tears. You lacked so much sleep, going to bed sick to your stomach and waking up the exact same way when you did actually fall asleep.
You walked out the door and the world never knew what was actually going on because you smiled and only you knew what hid behind that smile. Therapy, researching, support groups, reading books and reading more books until the words blurred with the tears and you couldn’t read anymore.
I don’t know how or when but all of a sudden you had the strength that I didn’t know was possible to go on. It was like you just picked yourself up one day and “put on your big girl panties” and knew the only way to survive was to not let that “evil” take over your life.
I always knew you were a strong woman but I honestly was not sure this time you would recover from this. You would never ever take anything away from anyone who has lost a child to death…that is a pain you/I cannot possibly fathom but losing a child who is still alive and the grandchildren that have come from them is a totally different pain that has no closure. Watching your grandchildren from a distance, having mutual friends that cannot understand how or why this is even happening sending you pictures of them cannot be explained unless you are actually going through it so I know the pain you are in on a daily basis.
I am so very grateful that you have the strength that you have shown. Honestly I have never been more proud of you than these last couple of years. You have come to terms with the fact that you can’t control how evil and nasty other people are but you can control how you let it destroy you. You have learned that grandparent alienation is actually a global epidemic. It doesn’t lessen the pain but you now know you are not alone in this horrible nightmare.
You still know that someday you will see them again because you have always been the type of person that never loses hope (although I know it gets harder and harder in this world) and also never gives up. So from me to me I love you and I love the strength that you have given to us. We are alive and we now can conquer anything that comes our way because we have survived one of our two biggest fears and our story isn’t over yet!