“Is love enough? Is it enough that I love them more than life? I’ve so desperately wanted the answer to be yes. As much as I can tell them it’s going to be okay, it’s not the same.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“Is love enough? Is it enough that I love them more than life? I’ve so desperately wanted the answer to be yes. As much as I can tell them it’s going to be okay, it’s not the same.”
“He took everything he could, and walked away like we were nothing. He used my daughter to get closer to me. I no longer understood ‘normal.’ Life had to resume, because he said so. I was a widow.”
“We share lunches and cheers our drinks. We play everything, peek a boo, house, chase, and it’s the highlight of my day. I love waking up every morning, knowing she’s right next to me. I’m not ashamed to admit that she’s my best friend.”
“I hear, ‘I would never be able to give a child back.’ It’s chaotic and heart wrenching. There are times you want your peaceful home back. Love isn’t always wanting what’s best for someone.”
“I said, ‘Intentionally choose who has a seat at your table.’ I didn’t mean your dinner table; I meant the 9 p.m. ‘wine in hand’ crew. No one cares if there are toys on the floor. This crew isn’t here for that.“
“Growing up in south Mississippi, I was able to easily see how my own father was the most racist and hateful person I had ever met. As I got older, he would call me sissy, mama’s boy, and queer. That was bad enough, but the things I can recall him saying towards black Americans were just as bad, if not worse.”
“Before we could blink, we had teenagers and a daughter in college. I know people in their forties adopt, but my husband was not on board. We met Rachel when she was five. She had a background of neglect and abuse. I officially became a new mama at 54.”
“When I ask him how his day was, in which he always replies, ‘hot.’ I can tell by the look in his eyes, he’s exhausted. But, he will be playing with our kids and building new shelves for my classroom without a complaint. You know why? He loves us.”
“I’m going to have to tell your kindergartners they can’t hold hands, even though we spend SO MUCH TIME teaching kids to be friends with each other. I’m going to have to tell that shy, little boy who reaches for my hand for some security, he can’t hold my hand.”
“I know judging gazes find us in the grocery store parking lot, as his head rests on my shoulder and his legs dangle well below my waist. ‘Will this be the last time?’ I will throw out my back if that’s what it takes.”