~Thought for the Day~ Thanksgiving 2014-Gratitude Gravy

     I wanted to write a piece for Thanksgiving and I gave it much thought. Normally I write about something that has touched me, a person, an encounter etc, but this year I need to voice my opinion and get something out that is truly bothering me this year.

I have scrolled down facebook many times, checked out my twitter feed and spoken with many people over the last month and I am very sad by what I have seen, read and heard.

Tomorrow is a day to give thanks, thanks for so many blessings that we are given and instead of seeing people give thanks and gratefulness for all that they have, I have seen a trend of bitterness, griping, and overall complaining about some of the dumbest stuff I have ever seen.

I will take this opportunity to remind you all, and hey, myself included of all that we have to be thankful for. So bear with me for a few minutes and hear me out before you cast my words aside.

For one, if you are reading this, it means you have sight, it means you have some form of internet connection either via using someone’s wifi or you paid your bill and have the luxury of being online.

Sight people! You can see to read, post jokes, drive, look into the eyes of those you love and admire all that is beautiful around you.

If you are cooking a meal for tomorrow, it means you had the money to purchase food and are likely to have a roof over your head, maybe not your dream home, but you are sheltered from the elements.

If you waited in line to buy that food, it means you had time, a means to get to the grocery store and enough energy to get there.

If you have people coming to your home, or you are going to someone else’s home, it means you have people who love you, people who want to be in your presence.

I have been very disheartened by the amount of complaining I have encountered lately. People complaining about their spouses, for petty reasons, people griping about stores being too full, people griping about “having” to cook, people saying negative remarks about their work; you have a job, you have a spouse, you have money to purchase food, you have a home to cook in, let alone shelter.

Think of those who would gladly trade with you. Those who are suffering from extreme grief, because there is an empty place at the table, people who can’t afford to eat, let alone feast, people struggling to find work, those that are so disabled that they can’t see, speak, hear or move, people who are sick and can’t receive medical care or afford it, the childless women and men who would love to have child to share this holiday with, those that are without so many of things we are so very blessed to have.

Also think of your safety, we often overlook our people working in a public service job who won’t be at home, they are either serving their country at home or abroad and can’t be with those they love, or our police officers, firemen, EMS workers, 911 communicators, nurses, who work every day to ensure our well being, and they will be working while we enjoy our time in front of the TV watching football and indulging in one more piece of turkey or pie.

I think it has become too commonplace, too easy to forget all that we have. For this reason holidays bother me. Thanksgiving is not all about turkey and game time. It is about looking within yourself and seeing the things you have been richly blessed with.

Tomorrow I beg of you, think of how lucky you are, there are people in this world who envy you, yes, you. No matter how huge your problems seem, there is someone out there who has it much worse than you.

So instead of griping, complaining and being childish, try giving thanks, try giving back, won’t cost you one penny if you can’t afford it. Kindness can be shown without money.

Tonight I received a message from an old friend, wishing me a happy Thanksgiving, and it let me know that I was in someone’s thoughts, and it touched me to the core, I mattered to them and they took the time to tell me. It is that easy.

Amidst all the violence, hate and negativity, stop. Stop, look up, look around, and use your sight, hearing, sense of touch, smell and voice to reach another person. You might be the only reason they have to be thankful this year.

Have a big ol heaping helping of some gratitude gravy, and be sure to share some with others.

I wish all of you a beautiful day, I hope you feel surrounded by love and grace, and if there is someone out there who feels alone, sad or in pain, you are in my thoughts and you are not truly alone.

Hug you spouse, say kind words, thank our service people, love your kids, help someone up and when you do, you will truly understand what Thanksgiving should mean.

Here are my thoughts.

Teresa ;)

Copyright 2014 ©

~Thought for the Day~ Did She Have Gay or Straight Eyes? ©

   *This was written about two years after the passing of my Mother, I shared it on a social media site but never for the world to see and I feel it is time.*

   Very rarely do I stand up and state my religious views, mainly because those are my personal beliefs and I hate conflict, but this morning I am going to share with you my view on several topics since all the buzz lately is gay marriage and the rights that are being fought for.

Before I jump behind the pulpit and start preaching I want to share something with you.

As most all of you know my Mama passed away not quite two years ago. The pain is still unbearable at times but now for the most part there is just a longing that I can’t satisfy.

At the time of her departure I had to make some very tough choices and do some quick thinking without her by me for guidance.

One of the decisions was put entirely on me because I was her only child and it was a matter she felt very strongly about.

Organ donation; because Mom had been so sick there was very little she could donate. Minutes and I mean minutes after her passing I had to decide on her behalf what to do. She was a firm advocate on giving anything and everything to others. I received the phone call and I shook with terror, this felt like a nightmare but I had to pull myself together enough to speak with the woman on the line who sought my response. She informed me that there was only one thing they could take from Mama.

 Her eyes.

It made me feel like projectile vomiting at the mere thought of this all, but it was time sensitive so I couldn’t run from it, I had to straighten up and talk. With a shaky voice and weary soul I answered the questions the lady very carefully asked me. She was so kind to me, she represented the eye foundation and they needed to know certain things before they could proceed, so I answered all of her questions as best I could.

I barely remember any of what she said, and after giving her my number again and email address I finally ended the call. I sat down and bawled and howled like a lost child.

I knew what I had done was right but it seemed so fast.

Now let us fast forward a few days later. My phone rang again, I heard the kind voice again and she seemed to almost be crying, this conversation I will never forget. “Teresa, I just wanted to let you know, because of your Mother, today a successful transplant was done and someone has sight for the first time in their life.” After that I cried so hard I couldn't tell you what else was said. Now let us advance a year later.

I am casually scrolling through my email and I see an email from the foundation. I opened and as I put my crying eyes into my hands and wept I finally understood it all. “Dear Teresa Hardister, we want to inform you that the recipient of your Mother’s donation would like to meet you in the future, this does take some time and because of certain rules and regulations we must ask you in advance if you would like to meet with this person. Teresa you will be glad to know their transplant was a complete success and if you desire, you will be given the chance to look into your mother’s eyes again.”

Again with the crying, I prayed out loud and gave thanks for such a gift. I haven’t met the person, who carries Mama’s soft baby blues yet, but very soon I will have the miracle of seeing her eyes again, and the kindness she gave even after her life had ended.

Now you are thinking what in the world does this have to do with anything concerning gay marriage and my take on certain biblical beliefs.

When I answered the Eye Foundation’s questions, never once did they ask me about Mom’s sexual preference “Did  she have gay eyes?” or did they tell me the sexual preference of the person receiving her eyes. They asked medical history, general info and then some very random questions about who she was. NOT one time did they ever ask for her stance on it, her religion or her preference on anything, not just sex, they didn't care if she was a Baptist or Methodist, a democrat or republican, if she was vegan or meat eater, if she ever cheated or lied;what her income level was,  they asked about what kind of person she was.

I was brought up with the belief that we do not judge, under no circumstances do we pass judgment on another human being because of their choices or lifestyle. I have tried very hard to instill this in my children, we are to help others. We are not to cast stones and hate, we are to reach out a helping hand and give, guide and live our lives with a kind heart in order to set an example to all who meet us.

I have taught my sons that even when they come under fire; to hold fast to their beliefs and help others never giving concern to what others might say or think of them.

If we live our lives standing above everyone pointing fingers down, then there you have a hypocrite my friends.

None of us and I repeat none of us are without faults, sins and things we have done in our lives that could raise an eyebrow or cause a stir.

Few things anger me to the point of actual confrontation but a hypocrite will surely get me riled up.

I ask you all this question, have you ever lied? Have you ever cheated on your spouse, either in your thoughts or actions? Have you ever coveted something someone else had?  Have you ever talked trash about someone without giving them yet another chance? None of us are without sin and fault and if we are going to pass out  huge scarlet letters to the gay community to wear and disrupt their lives just as it did to Hester Prynne, then every single one of us better whip out our letters too and wear them upon our chests. C is for cheater, L is for liar, I need not explain further.

And on that note, I will include race as well. We all have red blood, we are all made the same, and just a  neat fact here, When I wrote Uniquely Nobody, I told you about a little boy being the only person who would take a chance and be my friend when I entered public school, what I never told you was, that young man is African American, why did I leave it out? It didn't matter, he walked up to  the new girl, the temporary outcast and reached out a hand to let me know I wasn't alone. His color, creed or background made no matter.

Jesus Christ walked among the lepers, not looking down upon them, but giving his hand to heal, help and befriend.

Our society needs a healing, a good old fashioned Southern soul revival and a reminder what the good book says about it. This a scripture I carry with me daily, because It reminds me how to live, how to conduct myself with people who may not be like me, but their blood is just as red as our Lord and Savior’s.

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? 4 How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? 5 You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.” Matthew 7:3-5

I want you all to take that in, and even if we disagree on religious beliefs, it clearly can be a guide to anyone. Judge not. I could care less what you believe, what you do, it is not my place to damn you, I will however stand beside you, because it is what is right.

When I am finally given the honor of meeting the person who is now seeing the world for the first time because of the gift of sight my Mama gave them, I will not care if they are gay, straight, what color they are, if they have tattoos or ever had an affair. It isn't my place. I will hug that person and give thanks for the miracle I am receiving.

In closing, remember my point earlier, if we are going to be so cruel and mean, why don’t we all get a flaming red letter to sit upon our bosom telling the world our wrong doings and after wearing it a while, see how sick and cruel the world can be. We are not here to judge others and pretend we have never done anything that would be looked down upon. Let people live, let them have peace, and if you think you can’t change the world, you are dead wrong, it starts within yourself.

 Here are my thoughts.

Teresa 

 © Copyright 2014 

~Thought for the Day~ The Heart of a Soldier ©

    When I was in my twenties, I was frequenting Veteran’s hospitals. My ex-husband had been injured in the Army, and had to go from one facility to another for treatment and to receive a correct diagnosis. In that time, I came to truly understand the life of a veteran.

I saw men and women of all ages: some my age, some much older, and many, of all ages, being pushed in wheelchairs.

It was upon a visit to our hospital in Durham that I truly became aware of what a veteran goes through.

They are never really “out” of the military. It is in their blood, it is a brotherhood, a sisterhood, they are related, they are sisters and brothers, united by an oath to protect and serve and they do so long after they leave their branch of service.

I talked with so many men and women who had seen battle, who had lost friends in arms, and who had given their body, heart and mind to our great nation, in order to keep us safe and secure at home.

It was that one certain visit that I saw something that has stuck with me all these years.

My ex-husband was being kept over night for a sleep study. They had given him a small corner to rest in with about five other people. Some were alert, some were asleep, and some apparently were going through some severe pain, because there was a gentleman across from us that screamed constantly. I had to go in and out many times, and as I did a sound came to my attention. I didn’t think about it at first, but every time I passed this elderly man’s area I would hear him trying to say something.

He was alone, so he wasn’t trying to communicate with someone there with him.

I listened closer each time, and as I neared the door, I heard him call a woman’s name.

He said it over and over, always with such a haunting cry.

I finally peered in, and with tears in his eyes, he still called out for her, whoever she was.

Finally, as I entered, I couldn’t resist just stopping by and smiling at him. I didn’t know what it would do, but the sound of his cry and his call touched my soul and I had to follow that instinct.

I stepped inside very carefully, and as he saw me enter, his eyes began to rain. He could barely see from the flood that now was pouring from his weathered eyes.

Before I could ask him if he needed anything, I saw his hand gently rise from his side. He took my hand, and with such emotion, he said, “You came”.

His smile has been stuck in my gut for many years. His voice has resonated through my heart, his touch has lingered within me, and the image of him has become a permanent   picture in my mind.

I have thought of him so often. I have wondered what happened to him, and I have often thought about what those weathered hands and eyes had seen and been through.

But his voice- what did he long for? Who was she; this woman he called out for? Was it a daughter, a lost love, a wife that had passed? I don’t know, and never will, but I know he needed her, and when he said those words to me, I was changed for life.

He was a veteran, he served us, and he protected us from the wrongs and evil of those who have tried time and again to take down our country. He had seen many lonely nights, lost many friends, and I am sure he had stared fear down in the face and kept going in order to fulfill his duty, to you and me.

He had lost someone: someone he cried out for, someone he needed; and his weakened state, he still cried for her.

He gave all he had for us, and for our country. Now, he lay there, too old for battle, too sick to rise, and defend, but obviously he had sacrificed his peace of mind for us as well.

I think sometimes we often forget that our men and women in our military give all. They give their bodies, minds, spirits and also their hearts to the land we live in and are so fortunate to be a part of.

Our soldiers may come home, they may blend in with us in society but as you can see, they are still sacrificing, still serving, they are soldiers until they die.

This elderly man, he gave it all he had, he obviously had lost someone very dear, and he did that for our country. As he lay there alone, he was still a man, and even in his condition, he was a proud member of our armed forces. He gave all. The heart of a soldier perseveres.

I want to thank every Veteran, active military member, and our reserves. Not only do you put your body on the line, you put your heart on the line as well. I also would like to thank my ex-husband, for his time in the service, his time in Special Forces and the honor he has passed on to our children and the love of country he has bestowed upon them.

On this Veteran’s Day, let us remember and give sincere thanks to those who gave all and continue to serve us no matter their place in life.

Here are thoughts.

Teresa

Copyright 2014  ©

~Thought for the Day~ Parenting Perspective ©

  This is a topic that I am pretty sure I have never addressed, but it is one that I feel very passionate about.

I have seen it so many times, and not only does it break my heart, but also it causes a high level of anger to rise within me, and I feel it best I control with words.

I will start off by giving an example, and then carry on with my thoughts and input.

When I was two years old, Mama walked into the room while she was trying to get ready for work in a hurry, and she nearly fell in the floor at what she saw.

There, in front of my Mimi’s mirror, was her bright blonde haired girl covered in red. Her first thought was that the crimson stain was that of blood. When she saw that I wasn’t injured, she laughed and asked me what in the world I was doing.

I politely told her I was getting ready for work, and putting on my makeup too.

I had taken her red lipstick and applied it very liberally throughout my hair, added some eye shadow, blush, and tons of powder. She couldn’t help but stop everything she was doing to take a picture and love on me.

Thinking back to her retelling that story countless times, it seemed fitting for my words today.

Mama had not yet taught me to apply makeup, but I had been watching her and I mimicked her.

Whether we notice or not, our children are watching us, taking in every little thing we do and in turn they copy our behavior at times. It might not be immediate or deliberate but they see, and they in turn practice what they have seen.

Mama used to say that children are like sponges, they absorb all they see, hear and are subjected to.

I couldn’t agree more.

With that story being told, let me start this by saying: children are a true gift, a blessing, and there is no greater reward in life than being granted the honor of being a parent.

I never understood it until I held my first child. I was 21 years old, and I looked down at a little bundle of blue eyes, soft skin and most importantly, all his trust was in me. He was dependent on me, and trusting that I would take care of him until he was able to, himself. My baby is 20 years old now, and I catch myself sometimes still trying to over mother him, but I think he is ok with it at times. Being a parent is a privilege; a privilege that so many can’t have, for medical reasons, and a host of other causes, and would rejoice at the opportunity to have a child. So if we are given children, we are to take it as our life’s work to do everything within our power to teach, encourage, and make this life we created grow into a good, upstanding person.

I am seriously troubled and outraged by some of the actions I see of other parents. I am by no means perfect, I have made many mistakes, but the well being of my children has always come first.

I look around and I see pitiful children who have parents who do drugs, abuse alcohol, and subject their children to a lifestyle that no child should ever have to be placed in.

Before you lash out, I know society is partly to blame, but as a parent I feel that the values and morals we instill in our kids start at home.

If your child watches you get high, acting like an idiot, as a savage, sleeping with anyone who will bed you and then you blame others and profess your undying love for your children, then I think you need to step back and look at yourself. 

You don’t love yourself, so how could you love your children on the level they deserve?

I sadly know of parents who do drugs with their children, and their reasoning boggles my mind. They think that if they partake in drugs with their children, it will keep them on the straight and narrow.

How about setting good examples, how about being a parent and not a friend? My children are my friends, but I will always be their Mother first.

I am sickened by the sight of women and men who cast off their kids to run wild, leaving them in the care of God knows who for a temporary good feeling.

Why did you have those children? Take a long, hard look at yourself.

Being a parent is a huge responsibility, it truly is, but you hold that life in your hands to shape and mold. Trust me, they will watch you, take you in, and yes, possibly become you.

Would you wish that upon them? Would you judge them if they became pregnant at an early age because they slept with multiple partners, when you yourself do the same? Would you shame them for disrespecting others, using vulgar language, and undermining authority when you yourself are just like that?

I know so many cases of this, and I can’t handle it, it makes me want to scream.

What will these children become? Hopefully, they will rise above what they have seen, heard and learned and be better, but we know in truth that is a rarity: They will become what they know.

Also, I tire of parents throwing blame on the other parent. You both made that child, so despite your resent or negative feelings towards each other, the well being of your children should be the main factor in your actions and you should exhibit civil behavior in front of them.

I am not saying you kiss and make up, or forgive wrongs, but in front of your kids, “play nice”. Don’t trash-talk the other parent. If someone is of bad character, they will reveal themselves without your ugly words. I have met children who feel guilty for loving one of their parents, because they have had so much ugliness shoved in their face and been drilled to hate one of their parents. That isn’t fair, if one parent is not good; it will “come out in the wash”, as my grandma used to say. Children by nature are loving, giving, and good hearted and we as parents set that example and encourage it to grow with them.

I am very thankful, and I can’t stress this enough, that I can talk to my ex-husband in a good way. We communicate well, and can talk about anything. We may no longer be together, but we brought two children into this world and we are determined to show them how to be good people.

I see couples who are childless, who ache to have a little one of their own, and it pains me, because they know the value of the life they lack in their own and would do anything to be given a chance to hear someone call them Mommy and Daddy.

I can’t impress upon this enough, we are what our kids become, and we are bound to our children to be good to them, to show them, to teach them, not to throw them aside for fun or view them as a financial benefit in the eyes of assistance or child support.

Be a parent, be an example. Remember those little eyes are watching you.

I was asked by someone I know why on earth their son would be addicted to some really heavy drugs, they were quick to throw the blame on others, society etc. I listened, and I knew before I spoke I would anger this person when I gave them an answer. I told them that he got it from them. He watched them, a drug addict. It was all he ever knew, this child begged for attention at an early age for a parent, and now this child is an adult and also an addict with a very bleak future.

Drugs aren’t the only problem. I see mothers more worried about themselves, and who they will party with, romp with, and never give a thought to the children watching them. It makes me irate.

I know I won’t win points with many people on my thoughts today, but if I can reach one person today, one parent who is neglecting their children and make them stop and think, make them want to make a change, then it is all worth it.

Children are miracles, they are the future, why not give the essentials to be an amazing person, because it starts with us, the parents. Play with them, laugh with them, watch your mouth in front of them, be a good example, and watch your child, they will truly amaze you.

When you feel their arms around you at an older age and hear them say, “I love you Mama, you are the best in the world”, you will know you did your dead level best to be a parent, flaws and all.

There are no reasons to not be a good Mom or Dad. Time spent, kind words said to others, good deeds done, and putting them first will result in having kids who change this world.

Now to those parents who I have managed to tick off, be mad at me, but when your anger subsides, do this for me: Look at yourself, and better the person you are. Nobody can do it for you. Not only will you find a better life, you will see your kids in a whole new light and ready for a parent to show them how to be a good soul.

If you feel I am talking out of my behind, try me. I can show you so many cases of bad parenting and prove you wrong.

Look at the parents who have children who come first. They have a special light in their eyes, and they know that no matter what, even if they are serving Ramen noodles for dinner because they worked their tail off to keep a roof over their heads, and can’t buy them everything, they have a special bond with their child, because they see effort, they see love, and they feel it all around them. That is priceless.

I give a HUGE praise to those parents out there who work so hard at shaping their children, holding their hand as they step into life and by example are showing them how to be. I commend you.

Here are my thoughts.

Teresa  ;)

Copyright 2014 ©

~Thought For The Day~ Love You So Good ©

On November 1^st 2005, I lost my best friend. I lost a love that words can never seem to describe enough. I lost my idol, my grandma, my “Mimi”, Mozelle Williams Reeder. I am not sure where to really begin. I am flooded with so many things I want to say, and some points I wish to make.

I was thinking about her this morning, and thinking of the many years we spent together, the last of which I felt robbed of because Alzheimer's took her from me. However, from time to time, I would get a glimpse of the woman I had so adored and she would come back to me briefly, without any warning, and I treasured those moments of clarity.

As I sat thinking of her today, a phrase came to mind, one that she said to me repeatedly and I cried and smiled as I remembered the meaning of her words.

I would catch her staring at me, with so much love in her eyes, almost tearing up. Her eyes seemed to be lighted with such brilliance in her gaze at me. She seemed to be taking me in, and I, in seeing her look at me that way, felt completely loved and adored. She would say over and over, “I love you so good.”

I didn't know quite what she meant, but I could tell it came from her very depths and it was something she understood. I had hoped to know what it meant as well.

This morning I had a revelation. I got it.

As Mim would say, “She loved me so good.”

I know now what she meant, and as I replayed our years together in my mind, I at long last got the meaning. In knowing it now, I feel comfort, I feel love and I feel her presence residing in my soul.

“I love you so good”. It means she loved me without any hesitation, beyond measure, and without any limits at all.

I can only think of two people who ever saw me as flawless, and my Mimi was one of those people. No matter what, she believed in me and saw something in me that I didn't.

She taught me so many things. We used to talk for hours, and during our talks, she was grooming me to be the woman I am. I am proud I have become that woman, and I never realized it.

She led by example as well, so through words and actions, she showed me how to be myself, and to always hold my head high.

I must share a story that has never left me. It proved to me the power of love, long after you think it is gone.

I was working at a nursing home, and every afternoon many of us would gather outside on our break and talk. I loved hearing people talk about their day, and also about their favorite patients.

Sally was one of my treasured friends. She has since passed, but she was gold to me and so many others.

She could tell such wonderful stories, and I loved the sound of her laughter, so when she would hang out back with us, it was a true delight.

It was a hot day in July. I remember, because we all were looking for shade and decided to sit on plastic milk crates in the shaded overhang, so we could get our time in together. I guess there was about five or six of us outside that day.

I was talking about one of the ladies at the facility that I loved so much, and how we sang show tunes together daily. That began the topic of everyone chiming in with their special patient that seemed to brighten their day and heart.

Sally began to tell us about a lady she cared for that couldn't speak very well that became her sweetheart.

She painted a beautiful picture of such a gorgeous soul that resided in this sweet elderly lady.

She began to cry, as she spoke of her sweetheart passing away.

She wiped her tears away, and told us that the lady always seemed so restless and she couldn't quite figure out how to comfort her, so she brought in a baby doll for her, complete with a little dress and a bottle. We all began to get misty as she told her how it tamed the woman, how the woman would worry over this baby doll, and how she cared for it every day.

She said she would often pass her room, and hear her making a noise to get attention. It was a signal to Sally to come inside. She finally figured out what she was doing. The elderly woman wanted assistance in tucking in her baby doll and securing it in its “bed” which was her own hospital bed, but she had made a corner for her doll and Sally had provided her with a baby blanket to care for her “infant.”

She recalled that the lady would instantly become calm and no longer restless, as long as her baby was cared for.

I thought to myself, how this sweet, little woman must have cared for children in her life and still needed to, in order to be alright.

I inquired about her condition, and she said she had Alzheimer's. Her speech was broken, and she no longer recognized her family. Sally relayed to us that it broke her heart to see the lady’s family leaving with tear stained faces, slumped shoulders, and all hope gone as they left after a sad visit.

We were about to break up our chat session and go back to work, when Sally turned to us and said, “You know, she used to call that baby a name, but I can't remember it for the life of me.” She promised to bring in a photo of her the next day, so we could see her and her “baby”. We all expressed our joy. We loved to know that our elderly friend had found joy in their last days and this had touched us all.

The next day arrived, and I thought about Sally and her photo, as I performed my duties and counted the time until we could all convene out back and talk together. It was one of the highlights of my day.

As I made my way to the glass door leading out back, I saw Sally coming as well and I beamed. I gave her a wave and shouted, “Howdy!”

We all took our places, and began our break time together.

Sally was so excited to reveal the photo she carried in the pocket of her smock, and before she turned to show us, she stopped.

She looked around at every one of us and said, “I finally remembered the name that she called the baby doll. She called it Tesi.”

My heart sank, much as it is doing right now, and the tears began to fall with a fury. It couldn't be!

Mimi had forgotten me years ago. She never recognized me when I visited her, and when I left her it always seemed that she looked though me as if we had never met.

It all happened so fast. I was trying to process it, and before I could even speak she handed me the picture.

There in a wheelchair, I saw her- those familiar, stunning blue eyes, and her arms clutching tightly to a neatly swaddled baby doll. It was my Mimi, with her Tesi.

I couldn't speak. I tried, and nothing but sobs could exit.

Every one of my co-workers were staring at me with a puzzled look, I am sure they couldn't understand because I just couldn't function. I stood there shaking and staring at this photo.

I managed to say with a stuttered voice, “I am Tesi, and that's my--”

Sally grabbed me and hugged me tightly. She understood what I was trying to say.

We had never made the connection, even after the countless times I had spoken of my Mimi, it just never clicked.

I was overwhelmed with emotions.

Sally touched my hands and said, “Oh Lord have mercy, you are Tesi! Oh, honey!”

She talked while I sobbed. She told me how precise and attentive my grandmother had been to care for this baby doll, who in her mind, was her granddaughter. She had never understood it fully, because my Mimi had lost her ability to communicate very well some time before.

I wiped my eyes and my face, on my now tear-soaked scrubs, and tried to tell my friends how Mom and Mimi had always called me Tesi.

When I managed to get it all out, they passed the picture around and not one dry eye remained when we were due back inside.

I had to call Mom. I had struggled so much with Mimi not knowing me, and even after her passing Mom had known how much hurt I endured. I felt as if I lost her long before she left this earth, because she no longer seemed to see me as her beloved.

I quickly dialed her number. The boys were with her while I was working, so I knew it would take a few rings before she answered. I heard that familiar greeting of “Hey baby” at the sight of her caller, and I couldn't find words. I jumbled up some sort of sentence, and tried to make her understand. She attempted to calm me, but she knew I was all to pieces and finally she said, “Listen. You will be home in an hour, tell me then.”

An hour passed, and I flew into the house, running to Mama's kitchen while hugging the kids at the same time. I could hear Seth and Luke telling me about their day, and normally I would fall into a chair and hang on every word but on this day, I needed to tell Mom every detail of my own day.

We sat at her trusty old kitchen table, my coffee already poured and ready, and I told her every single detail.

We sobbed together, and as she stood and removed the hair from my eyes, she said, “I told you she never forgot you.”

It was true, even when I was sure that this horrible disease had stolen every memory of her life and left us with a shell of a person, I was still with her.

I was finally able to grieve her passing, even though it had been a few years. I felt alright, I felt that feeling of love and flawlessness all over again.

She had “loved me so good” that even Alzheimer's couldn't even steal me away from her.

I thought of this today, and, mercy, how I miss her. I recall the feeling of never ending love she carried for me until she left, and I feel pretty sure she took it with her, because I still feel it right now.

I miss my Mimi. Not a day passes that I don't, but I am so very thankful that she took me with her in every thought.

Mimi, I miss you. Isn't that a given? Today, I am so grateful for the woman you were, and the woman who still lives on in me. I try so hard to follow your lessons, to be a respectable person, to hold my head high, help others, and I always stop myself when I catch myself complaining because you said, “Somebody in this world is way worse off than you”. Most importantly I am myself, even if people don't understand me, I am me. I am real, and even if others feel hate or distaste for me, I will carry on and not worry myself with it. I know who I am. I am sort of slacking about wearing makeup when I go out, I know that was a big “no-no” to you, but things are more relaxed with me. I don't think anyone minds. Thank you for leaving me with a legacy of love, it has resided within me since our last words, and Mimi, I love you so good. Kiss Mama for me.

Here are my thoughts.

Teresa

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