There is a quote that stood solid in my sight one time after looking up quotes and writing them in my notebook when I still lived with my mom. Mahatma Gandhi is the author of the quote: “My life is my message.” I was staring at it for a while as if I needed these words engraved in my memory and they were engraved forever in my mind & soul.

Since I am the one who lived it, I would tell people my story growing up, which I saw as normal. I remember when I told my son’s grandma about my past to what I thought was normal and she stood up & shook her head because she couldn’t understand it. I told her it was fine because I was here with my head held high and able to tell my story.

I was never ashamed of the things that took place or the people in my story because I understood it was all part of my journey. I can look at the bird’s-eye point of view and always try to put myself in the other person’s shoes to understand why that action or reaction took place. Everyone has a story and sometimes we have to not judge the book by its cover and realize that there are chapters prior that we don’t know.

For example, when my dad took me from school without telling my mom about it, even though my mom had won full custody of me when I was a baby. My dad had done before and kept me away according to my mom. All this time I thought it was a vacation until last year or so. I remember telling my mom how I went from one person’s house to another and how fun that vacation was. Her response was, “Oh honey, that wasn’t a vacation. That was your dad keeping you from me. You were 5 years old, & he took you without telling me.”

My mom never once spoke ill of my father to me or in front of me. My dad on the phone said once that my mom was crazy. I told him then that means you say that I am crazy, dad because both of you created me and if she is crazy, then I am part crazy. He stayed quiet and retracted his statement.

With the years passing, I put myself in my dad’s shoes and understood why he did what he did. All he wanted was to keep me close and protect me because my sister, his first daughter, had passed at 15 in October 1989, which is also the same month that I was born.

When people ask me if I enjoy doing spooky things for Halloween or seeing a scary movie, my immediate response always is, “No, because life has been scary enough.” I know I have the God given gift of compassion and empathy to understand the person’s action & reaction. To put myself in the other person’s shoe and see them for who they are. To deliver the message of my life because it is my message. Just as your life is your message because it will inspire someone to give them hope of a deserved happy life.

I understand it is not about why is it happening to me but more of a what is this teaching me. I know God won’t put us in a situation that we cannot overcome.

I have overcome a few things that, without them, I wouldn’t be in the mindset that I am in. My miscarriage was my message to understand my dad’s actions a bit more. I have the power to do what I wished my dad had done & I am in charge of my story. I know that nothing worth having comes easy, but after all, I am worth it.

Was it my childhood? Or is this a personality trait? Why does not much ever feel good enough to me? It feels as though I sit around watching others succeed, while I bleed.

Look into the lens of an extremist. There is either good or bad, victory or failure. No wiggle room. There is no option for a roadblock or a mistake. Over time, this can manifest into such a deep rooted way of thinking and anxiety that it can torture you on a daily basis.

Now on the other hand, some people just strive high, had good upbringings, or just sensibly execute their goals. I could only imagine that not everyone who is highly successful lives torturous lives. I always wished I knew how to just keep things simpler. Sincerely, I wish I could. Still somehow I always find no middle ground, no matter the task. After a while it becomes easier to just shut down and not try things. Atleast not anything new or unfamiliar. Most perfectionists have some form of rigidness to them and in my experience a good portion of them don’t fare well in new environments or change.

Unfortunately, as I’ve reflected back on my own life I can’t help but wonder all the opportunities that may have passed me by, all the good people I could have met, all the smarter paths I could have chose, all those “woulda, coulda, shoulda’s”. I’ve found myself at times in a pit of comparing and judging. Whether it was myself- or other people.

If I could have just focused on things that made me feel more “whole” I could have found more peace, and my passions earlier in life. Writing, nature, music, things that truly bring me joy.

But this just goes to show that I needed to experience the life I did – to become who I am now. I may not have all the parts of me “whole” yet, but atleast I see the bigger picture here thanks to Jane’s wise quote and I can work every day at placing all the little pieces of myself together while I try to navigate through this thing called life.

~May we all keep our balance along the walk

A life of harm done. Or so I thought.
Trauma responses from my caretakers. Fear, abandonment, deep rooted pain and dysfunction going on within my entire immediate family. I wasn’t the only one – I was just the youngest one.
Life became confusing to me, and the cycle of drugs, domestic violence & poverty kept creeping back into my life going up until my mid 20’s.
I could name a lot of different times where my life was at crossroads, and all sorts of different choices that probably changed my life, as well as major life events and losses that have occurred. Majorly, the sudden loss of my brother in September of 2020 from a drinking & driving accident.
But that wouldn’t be enough. See, it wasn’t just one turning point for me. I have been on a continual spiritual journey since November of 2010. Accepting treatment and entering the journey of healing from PTSD and substance abuse was a pivotal moment in my life for sure.
Once I released and faced all the truths about myself, confronted myself in the mirror, and walked through my past traumas with the support of all my Angels and my network here on Earth – suddenly, things started slowly shifting. Not instantly, but things got better for me. Monetary things returned. My faith returned, and my life started getting better. I’ve had a few bumps & falls but am blessed to say I got right back up.
I always thought I was a victim. I now know that I am a survivor. This mentality has majorly changed me for the better. It’s not to downplay anyone’s trauma, but to be able to say you walked away from it and are still alive to tell the story, is an inspiration to mass amounts of people still silently suffering. There is also an inner freedom found in it that I did not know existed.
Taking the time to sit with myself, go for walks, color pictures & enjoy being in the present moment. Laughing, dancing – just like a kid. I’m giving new childhood memories back to myself. I can hold on to the good memories that I have & do my best to mourn the bad. I now know what self-love is. I’m giving that back as well, and I’m giving it to my children, and any other kids that may cross my path. These are all gifts that cannot fully be explained. But certainly, all turning points in which I have chosen to walk along the paths that lead me to happiness.
I Now hold my head and shoulders up higher when I look and speak with people.
I speak up for myself, and my loved ones.
I show gratitude, kindness and respect to Mother Nature, my High Power and thank the Universe for continuously showing me that I have a purpose here on this planet. Even if others don’t see it yet.
I suppose in hindsight as I sit here in this present moment overlooking the Great South Bay of Long Island – my true Turning Point was finding ME.

Love Always,

Dear Grandma Moore,

It is hard to believe you have been gone since 2013! It feels like it was yesterday
as the words of my poetry echoed over your ashes in Kansas. I cried many tears reading my speech at your celebration of life at my parent’s church, I felt such a hole in my heart longing for more time. When I was asked to write a letter to the person who was gone that I admired most it wasn’t a hard task at all! Grandma Moore, you always taught me so much. Most importantly you were always there for me and everyone else. I admired how you listened, your encouraging words, compassion, and smile that made anyone feel at ease. You loved being a grandma, especially spoiling your grandchildren (most of all with your time and great cooking). As a child there are so many memories of when we stayed at your house, went out to eat, shopped a little, told stories, played at the park, and played board games. Our family gathered at your house for football games during the football season. It was an exciting time with cousins there as well. No grandmother could yell at the tv as loud as you grandma when those Redskins were not playing well! I loved listening to stories of my grandfather who I had never met. Even though he died before I was born I felt like I knew him anyway. It is probably the way you lit up when you talked about him! You said that he would always be your only true love. I remember being so inspired by how you lived by yourself all those years and went to work after losing your husband: naturally falling into the independent fierce woman role! Grandma, you could put a beautiful vase of flowers together. The magic poured out of those fingertips. You loved working at the flower shop. You taught me that faith is important as well as your church community. You always helped out church members, taking them to get groceries or to eat. Your heart was as pure as they come! You were a wife, amazing mom, grandma, and friend. It showed in everything you did that family came first. As I became an adult and had a family of my own; I tried to live by many of your core values. My dad is a lot like you! Family, church, and friends are his biggest priorities as well. So thank you for teaching my dad what’s important, inspiring everyone around you as they watched how you lived your life and all the lives you touched! Sending my thoughts up to heaven with love!

Love,
Your biggest fan

Lyndsey

Dear child, let go of your worries.
You’re here for a purpose, I’m sure you know.
Though this world is large and you may be small,
You are connected to the source and the life force of all.

Dear child, open your eyes.
Though things seem strange, there’s room for surprise.
Each new day you wake holds potential for greatness,
A seed you can water and watch grow with awareness.

Dear child, remember your worth.
You were created for a reason.
The Divine orchestrated your birth.
Your soul is unique, with its own melody,
Brought here to find others and make new harmony.

Dear child, you are peace and love and grace.
It’s time for you to recall, see it shine from your face.
The purity you were born with can be returned to.
All that is meant will surely find you.

Dear child, don’t fret or fear.
Guidance and help are always near.
Follow the wisdom, the deep inner knowing.
This faith in the Divine keeps you ever flowing.

So my dearest child, breathe deeply.
Relax your being fully.
You have many gifts, they’re yours to keep.

Dear Reader,

I want to warn you before diving deep into this letter that I’ve experienced a lot of loss in the last 10 or so years. As I was pondering who I should write about I concluded that I could not choose just one person.  To choose one person would be to act as if the others did not exist, nor matter to me. Each of these people mattered and each of these people has deeply impacted my life and has contributed a piece to the mosaic that continues to become me.  So instead of honoring one person I choose to honor each person and to impart the lessons about love that they each taught me. 

Dear Loved Ones,

To my matante Elaine.  Your departure from this Earth was swift, sudden, and shocking.  The winter snow was in the process of melting as my thoughts dissolved and I erupted into a puddle of tears when I heard the news.  In those early days of grief, I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.  You showed me a love that was kind in a world that often was not.  Your eyes and your smile communicated warmth, love, and light.  You sheltered and protected me amid the storms in my life. Your heart and your home were my safe space. You made everyone you encountered feel seen, known, and loved even when you didn’t always feel it yourself.  To this day I strive to see, know, and love people with the kind and gentle love that you did.

To my Memere Gonneville.  Your passing came all too quickly. Because you had Alzheimer’s I had expected we would have to die other smaller deaths before we lost you completely.  But you remained healthy until one day you weren’t.  From you, I learned that love delights in the other.  In your younger years, you delighted in seeing us smile as you insisted that my sisters and I choose a toy from the dollar store, or as we played at a park, or as we experienced new things. Our joys were your joys and our sorrows were your sorrows.  That’s one thing I know I got from you.  Your last coherent words to me were “I love you.”  I hope when my time comes my last words will be “I love you.”

To my Memere and Pepere Hebert.  Much of my life was spent in your home sitting at your kitchen table watching and learning from you.  You gave me an example of a healthy, faith-filled marriage.  It was clear to me that you two loved each other deeply.  You died months apart from each other.  You taught me that love is generous with time, talent, and treasure.  Memere you transported many people to their medical appointments in your spare time.  When we visited you almost always retreated to the basement and returned with something to give one of your many grandchildren.  Pepere you were my rock, but also my teddy bear; strong yet soft.  My favorite moments with you were sitting on the swing watching the cars go by because in those moments you were fully present to me. You taught me to persevere.  That is a lesson I will always carry with me.  In the end, you taught me that love doesn’t end even when life does.

To my aunt Jackie. I loved spending days on the lake and at the camp with you. You loved the Blessed Mother so much and recited the rosary every day. You taught me that love is faithful even in times of suffering.  Your killer was cancer that metastasized, you endured great suffering but still, you were devoted to the Blessed Mother finding comfort and consolation in her motherly care. I strive to love the Blessed Mother as ardently as you and to pray for the hour of my death as much as you did. 

To my cousin Briar Rose, who passed away at 5 months old.  You taught me one doesn’t need to live years to live a meaningful life and to experience love.  I held you and visited you in the hospital and instantly I fell in love with you.  Though you didn’t live very long after your diagnosis you had a profound impact on our community as they banded together to support our family during that difficult time.    

Because you all mattered I still grieve.   
But it is also because I lost you…..
Because I know time is not guaranteed, but rather is a precious gift,  
That I savor each moment I have with those I love dearly. 
Thank you for being a part of my life and my story.