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Stuck between Black and Blue

Pulling into the gas station in the south Chicago suburbs this morning, my daughter and I saw the police approaching a young man.   He appeared to be in his mid-twenties and was tall and slender but, at the same time, solid.   He had his hands in the air, screaming inaudible words but his pain permeated my core.   An officer gripped the man’s arms from behind and brought him to the ground.   His long frame flipped upside down.   My daughter began a frantic cry. “Momma, don’t let them kill him”.   As tears of terror flooded her face, the innocence of being nineteen was no more.   I stopped my car in the middle of the gas station parking lot and she jumped out, pure protective instinct on fire, and bolted toward the scene to check on him.   I kept my eyes trained on the young man and the officer that held him.   He didn’t resist the officer’s grip as cold metal cuffs were clasped onto his wrists behind his back and he was pulled to his feet like a hog being taken to roast. I caugh
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Open Letter to My Lost Ravenna

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Dear Heel of My Shoe, I would like to first apologize for my failure to realize your significance in my life. I thought my swag was all mine, my two step too but now that you've left me, I see it was you... holding me down. It's no surprise you sent karma in the shape of an adorable shelter dog to chew at the heart of you until you were no more. Your guts and innermost feelings spilled on the floor atop my rug. And though I miss you dearly, I know that, to me, you shall never return in original form.   As I wear the shoe where we first met, I reflect with joy despite the pang of your absence where you used to caress my skin --we had some good runs --and know that if you could, you would have stayed but it wasn't your fate. So I bid you farewell.  Till our paths cross again, I shall fondly remember our moments together and await your acquaintance anew. For, in any shoe, in any style or lifetime, I would recognize and certainly appreciate you.
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2-Ply Blessings

One day my youngest daughter went to use the bathroom then cried out in her emergency voice "Momma!" I darted from my bedroom to her aid. She asked me. "Are we cutting back?" "What are you talking about cutting back?" I asked, puzzled by her question. With her face contorted in concern, she continued "1-ply toilet paper? Where's the soft stuff?!" I laughed until my sides hurt then explained that the toilet paper purchase was a mistake and not an indication of impending financial doom as she feared. Satisfied at my explanation, she finished her business and I returned to my room feeling both blessed and amused. What had happened was…    My older daughter   accidentally bought the wrong case of toilet paper but we'd ripped it open before anyone realized.   This moment was hilarious to me and at the same time brought things into perspective:   If my child's biggest complaint in life is an accidental downgrade to
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Down The Path

My oldest son once got in trouble in school for misbehaving. Seems he and a buddy thought it would be a good idea to flash their bottoms out the window as unsuspecting classmates walked into school from the bus. After everyone had their fill of laughs, they reported the partners in crime to the principal. Following the incident and subsequent investigation, I got a call explaining that I needed to pick up my son and keep him home for a 3 day suspension. Once we returned home, I began drilling him about why he did something as idiotic as show his behind out of a school window. All he knew is that his friend did it and he followed suit. I won't go into detail about how he was disciplined but lets just say he was in trouble less for the initial act than he was for playing monkey see monkey do... Today's Inspiration We are Responsible for the Decision on Who We Follow Peers, family, community/church leaders, managers, spouses. There are countless people in our lives who have
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Growing Feathers

My children often criticize me (lovingly) for the number of times they are required to eat baked chicken in a given week.  I don't fry food for health reasons (and I hate the putrid odor it leaves behind) so baking has become the normal way I prepare meats aside from grilling when time and weather permit. It just so happens that I don't cook pork, consume very little red meat and the kids aren't fond of fish so, chicken is the natural winner. Recently, they asked what we were having for dinner. I thought about it a minute (as if i really needed to ponder) and responded - baked chicken and vegetables. Instantly, their voices joined in song to express disapproval at my decision. "Again?" they cried out in laughter. I couldn't help but laugh myself considering we probably eat baked food 25 nights per month. I paused to consider dinner a bit further then came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea. "How about we go to Popeye's or KFC then?"
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Where Am I?

My family and I recently took a road trip from Northwest Indiana to Diamondhead Mississippi.  The 15 hour drive routed us through Illinois, Kentucky, Arkansas and Louisiana before we were fortunate enough to check into our economy hotel room without a view. A few hours into our drive, my daughter asked "where are we?" As a curious pre-teen, her question made sense but given the fact that we still had so far to go (12 hours to be precise), I showed her the GPS to reassure her we weren't lost then advised her to relax and let me know if she needed to use the rest room. Today's Inspiration Where you are is NOT as important as your final destination At any point in time we can and should perform a self-assessment to gauge progress toward goals.  It is how we ensure we are taking steps forward rather than running in perpetual circles or even worse, taking steps backwards.  Sometimes, when we reflect on our current situations, we may find that we are nowhere near where
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Slippery When Wet

I have a dear friend who loves to share information and recipes with me.  During one conversation in the dead of winter, they shared how, they added baby oil gel to their body while in the shower. Intrigued, I asked for more detail. As they explained it, this technique left their skin softer and more supple than any other moisturizing tactic. I didn't doubt the sincerity of their claim, after all, it was my friend and who wouldn't be tempted by promises of butter soft skin in the dead of a harsh winter?  One day shortly after our discussion, I grabbed my baby oil gel and began applying a liberal amount from my ankles up. The hot water rinsed all excess and, just as my friend proclaimed, allowed my skin to absorb the gel much better than dry or recently moistened skin - this was heaven then... Whoa, woops , ouch! I squirmed, squealed and almost pulled down the shower curtain reaching for safety as I slipped about the oil slick that became my shower floor.  I caught my balanc
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