LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
“‘What did I do wrong?’ It took many years to learn about that question. To say I was crushed is an understatement. I was numb. My ex-boyfriend was trying to teach me all along. Be selfish.”
“We saw signs everywhere. ‘What if I told you coming home to your boys was only PART of your purpose?’ We knew she was coming. It was a shock, but we were going to move forward.”
“My jaw dropped when I saw your little face. ‘Why did you give me a baby who seems like my own?’ It didn’t seem fair to have to give you back. This was only supposed to be a seven-day thing.”
“Does it matter whether we called each other soulmates? I was in awe and had dreams about her. Her death was sudden and painful.”
“The child’s parent who dropped her off chastised me (out of earshot of the kids) for having a pride flag outside my house and asked me to ‘not talk about inappropriate matters with his daughter.’ My heart literally couldn’t handle it.”
“He grabbed a toy cup, went over to the full pot of coffee, and pulled it down to pour into his toy cup. My baby sister’s seat was just below. You may or may not notice her scars when you see her.”
“I sat on the couch, clutching Lukas. I noticed strange marks on his body. They were not there the night before. At that moment, I knew my baby’s fate. I was just trying to stall the inevitable.”
“She showed up with a smile. She was happy and talkative and playful with all the kids and dogs who showed up. She sweetly asked me and Bill, ‘What are we doing here?’”
“I stood side by side, laughing and crying through three decades of this life. Of building a home together. Of bringing children into the world and raising them. Of building two businesses. Nobody needs to understand it.”
“During the night of her vigil, I saw my mother illuminated by a crack in the door and holding a suction straw to her weak mother’s lips. Mama patiently reassured Maw Maw time after time that she was fine, that she was safe.”