Have people who ask that never lived in rural America?
What does it matter how many starts life pitches foul balls?
Jobs don’t make you you!
I always wanted to write,
Always heard you can’t make a living doing that,
So far they, you know them busy not followung their dreams,
Everyone has those people in their lives,
The ones who stay at the same jobs to death,
Not a clue what imagination is,
Sadness caught my day today,
Sixty-five years ago dad married the one woman he loved,
Would have been nice if all those years mom spent time unstanding how much dad loved mom instead of believing the one she loved was dead.
I knew mother best,
I know the pain mom suffered through,
Endured in Texas,
Mom wanted to read and draw,
Mom put off till tomorrow what she loved,
My older half sister refused to hear mom when mom over and over said ‘No I love my home, I don’t want to leave Iowa!’
My gift came from mom’s side of the family,
I heard an empowerment speech recently the speech said we can’t take credit for our gifts.
We can only take credit for using those gifts.
I found that profound,
So that’s what I’m going to yell anyone trying to rain on my parade.
When I write moms with me most.
With tears in my eyes,
The evil that befell us Heike girls shall envelope the real monster in the family.