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Mysterious Ways

Posted on February 10, 2011 Written by Tonya

I could never have imagined that my parents would not meet my son.

It didn’t once enter my thought process when I dreamed about having a family. In my mind, two sets of grandparents were always part of that equation.

Being a parent without parents never ever crossed my mind.

They should be here.

My son should have two sets of grandparents.

My mother and father should know Lucas.

Lucas should know my mother and father.

He will.

Lucas will know my parents through me and my husband and my sister and anyone else that wants to tell him about what amazing people they were. He’ll hear that he reminds us of them in small ways; like a simple expression on his face that looks just like one my mother would make when she was giddy with excitement and big ways, too, like Lucas’ insatiable curiosity that was so similar to my father’s and how they were taken from all of us too soon.

But it’s not the same.

Lucas is missing being able to go to a Red Sox game with my dad, hear first hand about the small town in Texas where he grew up. He is missing learning about stamp collecting, how to make the perfect Orange Julius and the intrigue of film-noir movies.

Lucas is missing holding my mother’s soft hands, devouring her scrumptious chocolate chip cookies and celebrating each and every holiday with gusto, as only she knew how.

Lucas is missing out on so much.

But they are missing out too.

I have a beautiful, smart, funny, awesome son and just once, I’d love for my parents to able to hear his magical laughter every time I chase him around the park.

Losing my mother and father at such an early age, mine and theirs respectively, is unfathomable. But, sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways and the unfathomable happens. I lost my parents and less than a year later became pregnant with Lucas. I suffered the greatest loss of my life and then gained light and hope and more joy than I ever thought my heart could hold.

I could never have imagined that my parents would not meet my son or that they wouldn’t be here longer than they were, but the way I used to think changed and then the whole world shifted.

If want to know more about how I lost my parents, please read For My Broken Heart.

This post is for The Red Dress Club’s writing meme, Red Writing Hood. This weeks prompt was to write a post that begins with the line, “I could never have imagined” and ends with the line, “Then the whole world shifted.”

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Gone Too Soon

Posted on January 28, 2011 Written by Tonya

It’s been 1201 days since my parents died.

1201 days? That seems like an eternity to me when I think of all they’ve missed.

Then again, 1201 days really isn’t that much time at all when I think of how fresh the loss is in my heart.

I often worry that I’ll forget what they sounded like and looked like, but both are etched in my brain and woven throughout my memories.

I carry them with me everywhere and I ache to hear their voices again and dread each and every single anniversary, birthday and other special occasion they are missing. But it is the mundane everyday life events that they are missing that make me the saddest.

1201 days later and I am still pressing on.

I press on for my sanity, for Lucas’ sake and for them, because that is what they’d want me to do.

My father would have been 64 today.

Michael Stephen Adams

January 28, 1947 – October 15, 2007

Rest In Peace.

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Three Little Words

Posted on January 17, 2011 Written by Tonya

There are a handful of moments in your life that you just know while it’s happening you’re going to remember for the rest of your life.

Motherhood is full of them; the first time your child smiles at you (and you know it’s not gas), the first time you hear them say “mama”, where and when their first steps take place, and this…

After spending a few hours last Sunday at the world’s most beautiful shopping mall, South Coast Plaza, located dangerously close to our new home in Orange County, we were in the car driving home and I was asking Lucas if he had a good time and reviewing all of the fun things we did and saw.

We talked about the cars at the toy store and the dinosaur on display in the window, whose mouth would open and shut, the elevator button he pushed, the escalator we rode, the big balloons for sale in the center of the mall, the colorful horses on the carousel (that we also rode) that went up and down and the great dinner he ate.

It was an animated conversation and he was responding enthusiastically to all of my questions and being really cute and playful.

As we were nearing home, he let out a perfectly timed “ouf” as in, “wow, we did do a lot and boy, am I exhausted!”. Todd and I both giggled and I said, “I love you, Lucas.” To which he replied…

“I do too”.

And just like that, I welled up and got tears in my eyes.

Okay, so it wasn’t a direct “I love you”, but he knew what he was saying and it melted my heart.

Since then, Daddy (of course) has gotten several actual “I love yous”, but I’m still only getting the “I do too”.

Whether he means he loves himself or me, I’ll take it and I’ll always remember the first time he said it.

For those of you with today off for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I hope you are enjoying it with the ones you love.

This piece was featured on Nichole’s blog, In These Small Moments, in her weekly feature, Small Moments Spotlights — Week 3 on February 4, 2011.

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On Any Given Day

Posted on January 11, 2011 Written by Tonya

On any given day, Lucas might sleep until 6:00, but chances are he’s probably already been up 45 minutes by then.

On any given day, he will ask for a “ba ba” 900 times, but only get three.

On any given day, there will be two poopy diapers, countless messes to clean up and several expletives muttered as cars, trains and other toys are tripped over, all before noon.

On any given day, phone calls to and from Daddy will be made and photos will be texted.

On any given day, battles will be won and lost, tears shed and tantrums thrown.

On any given day, a walk and some fresh air calm us both.

On any given day, stories are read, songs sung and silly dances invented.

On any given day, one of us will feel like their head is going to explode from saying “no” and the other one, from hearing it.

On any given day, nothing will sound sweeter than hearing “Mommy”.

On any given day, bunnies, goldfish, cheese sticks, yogurt, bananas, grapes and/or graham crackers will all be consumed.

On any given day, an outing has been planned to the park, library, book store, museum, or friend’s house.

On any given day, giggles will erupt as hugs, kisses and tickles are delivered.

On any given day, body parts, animal sounds, numbers, colors and the alphabet will be practiced.

On any given day, dinner will be enjoyed together as a family.

On any given day, bath time will be procrastinated, teeth brushing a struggle and bedtime rejoiced.

On any given day, patience is tried, wills are tested and guilt is rampant, but nothing but love is shared between a mother and her son.

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A Symbol Of Love & Loss

Posted on December 23, 2010 Written by Tonya

In November 2007, a month after my parents died, my husband, sister and I traveled to Tunisia to visit the school, ACST (American Cooperative School of Tunis), where they worked. We wanted to spend time where they last had, visit with their colleagues and gain some peace and understanding. It was also important to me to be the ones that cleared out their home.

It was a difficult trip to say the least, but necessary for our grieving process. We were met with much understanding and support and much of the time we were not only being consoled but were consoling.

In a very touching ceremony, the school planted two olive trees* in a common area on campus and dedicated one to each of my parents while we were in town.That year for Christmas my husband had an olive tree planted for me in our side yard.

This was taken the day the tree was planted:

It was almost an exact replica to the ones planted for my parents continents away. right down to the white stones. Luckily, however, it is a non olive producing tree, for that would just be a mess!

In three years it has almost doubled in size.

This is me pregnant with Lucas at 30 weeks:

This was taken the day we moved:

I love this tree and will always appreciate the kind gesture that my husband made in finding and having it planted at our home. It will forever remind me of our trip to Tunis, the two trees that grow and bloom there in memory of my parents and of course, my parents themselves.

Todd is working with our old gardener and the new residents to either move the tree to a farm until we buy our next house and can plant it there, or keep it with the old house until we are ready to transplant it.

*The olive tree is native to the Mediterranean and a cultural symbol of Tunisia.

Silvery green leaves are oblong in shape and in spring small white flowers bloom. With age, the trunk is typically gnarled and twisted.

Tunisia produces 500,000 tons of olives each year. Many of Tunisia’s olive trees are believed to be over 2,000 years old.

The olive tree is one of the plants most often mentioned in literature. In Homer’s “Odyssey”, Odysseus crawls beneath two olive tree branches that grow from a single stock. The Roman poet, Horace mentions it in reference to his own diet, which he describes as very simple: “As for me, olives, endives, and smooth mallows provide sustenance.”

Olive trees are symbols of abundance, glory and peace.

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I Love It When…

Posted on December 21, 2010 Written by Tonya

I love it when Lucas is sitting on my lap for a story or next to me on the couch watching TV and his body goes limp and melts into mine. I love feeling him let his weight go. After a while, the rhythm of our breath is in time with each others.

He’s a toddler on the go, so these are fleeting moments that don’t last very long, but we are learning how to relax together.

I love when Lucas runs up to me with a big sparkling smile, arms open wide and gives me a hug. He is starting to be very affectionate, especially when he’s done something naughty. It must be his way of apologizing?

He’s a toddler but somehow already understands the power of touch and importance of affection.

I love overhearing Lucas try to sing along with me, the radio or television. He doesn’t yet know the words to any songs, but he tries his best and often gets the inflection spot on.

He’s a toddler and is already experimenting with his voice and musical abilities.

I love it when Lucas is playing with his “choo choos”, cars or stuffed animals and makes sweet sounds, dances as goes along and creates pathways that not only go all over the house, but up and down my arms and legs too.

He’s a toddler but is using his imagination to expand his world.

He’s a toddler and he is growing up right before my eyes.

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Head Over Heels

Posted on December 9, 2010 Written by Tonya

When just the mere mention of his name makes my heart melt and beat a little faster.

When that first recognition of my existence made me feel like I could do anything.

When he reaches for me, it’s as though I’m the only person in the world.

When he smiles at me and it is so sweet and tender, it makes me want to cry.

It’s a want it, need it, gotta have it feeling that I’ve never felt before.

It’s that kind of love.

Sure, I’ve loved before; the comfort of my own bed, a perfectly worn in pair of jeans, a Dave Matthews song I’ve heard a thousand times before that will never lose it’s impact on me, the scent of my grandmother’s perfume that enveloped me every time I entered her house and my best friend, because she’s everything I’m not and can make me laugh like no one else on earth.

But, I’ve never loved or been loved like this before.

So intensely.

So completely.

So unconditionally.

He is a part of me and no matter what, he always will be.

The love I have for my son’s father is deep and passionate and it’s because of the love we share that I have this precious child at all, but it’s a different kind of love.

There is nothing like the love a mother has for her son.

This is my first attempt at The Red Dress Club’s writing meme, Red Writing Hood. This weeks prompt is: Write a short first-person story about your first love, or write a short fiction piece about a character’s first love.

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A Letter From Lucas

Posted on August 19, 2010 Written by Tonya

Dear Mommy,

I know we are still getting to know each other, but here’s what I can tell about you so far:

You must adore reading because I have a million books and you read to me all. the. time.

You must take pride in me looking my best because I’m always dressed in a matching shirt and pants. I’m always very comfy too.

You must yearn for whatever is in that funny red and white can because it’s the first thing you drink every morning. When are you going to let me have a taste?

You must delight in seeing me smile because you sing silly songs, make silly voices, and perform silly dances that make me laugh.

You must care for me a lot because you take me to the doctor when I’m sick, bathe me, brush my teeth (all six of them) every night, clean my ears and nose (which I hate), keep my nails cut back and make all of my food at home from fresh organic produce.

You must think I’m pretty cute because you constantly have a camera in my face. I must admit, I love seeing pictures of myself too.

You must enjoy the outdoors because we go for a walk almost every day, just when I start to get a little fussy. I like it when you point out surfers, trees, plants and dogs.

You must savor turkey sandwiches because we stop to get one several times a week. At least now I’m getting my own!

You must want me to be a well-rounded individual because you take me to music class, swimming lessons, trips to far away places and let me play with finger paints.

You must assume I enjoy going to the place with all the food and bright lights more than I like going to the place with the fish and Legos. You’re wrong.

You must really like that small white rectangular shaped thing you carry around with us everywhere because you talk to people on it (like Daddy!), take photos with it and do a lot of typing on it all day long. Sometimes I get to see Elmo on it, which is very fun for me.

You must need alone time every now and then because you leave me at home with different women and disappear for a few hours each week. I miss you while you are gone but, truth be told, I enjoy this time apart too.

You must cherish your friends because we spend a lot of time visiting with them. Lucky for me they all seem to have babies too!

You must appreciate it when I lay in my crib and fall asleep because when I wake up, you are always very happy to see me.

You must love me a lot because you give me lots of hugs and kisses.

You must believe that I am special because you tell me every day.

I love you a lot too and I am very glad you’re my mommy.

Love,
Lucas

The best is yet to be.

This post is forMama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop – Prompt #1Dear Mommy and/or Daddy…(write a letter to yourself from one of your children)

Time Well Spent

Posted on June 24, 2010 Written by Tonya

We don’t own a piano, but I have always dreamed of having one simply to display dozens of photos across. Instead, we have this beautiful side board that does a pretty nice job.
I couldn’t choose just one photo to write about, so I chose all 15. As I reminisced and went back in time, here is what I thought:

What a goofy grin on my face! I can’t believe my husband not only took that photo just moments after I had completed my first (and only) half marathon, he had it blown up and framed so that I would always remember that pain… and pride.

My perfect wedding.

My husband and his parents – they are my family now too:

I have the best friends a girl could ever hope for:

I’m sad whenever I remember that this is the last photo that I ever got to take with my parents:

My dear, sweet sister, whom I sometimes feel a million miles away from, but always hold very close to my heart. Here we are after our first grueling day on the 3-Day Walk:

The joy and hopefulness in my eyes as I rest my hand on the new life in my belly:

My perfect baby just four weeks old:

My oldest and dearest friend in the world and all of our children together at last:

And then I actually did become inspired enough to write a poem:

They say a picture is worth a thousand words…

What if a thousand pictures were worth just one?
I’d say much easier said than done.

One word that fully encapsulates smiles, fun, tears and laughter,
Hopes, dreams and the happily ever afters?

Would it be: Happiness? Joy? Blessings? Love?
Ah, love, that’s fitting. After all, isn’t it the only word to speak of?

Photographs take us back and remind us of travel and distant places,
Moments with family and friends in possession of warm and familiar faces.

Our snap shots are displayed like treasures,
Out of love, in memory and for pleasure.

We capture, frame, post and share with everyone our two dimensional grins
But mostly, our photos are for our own selfish whims.

Whether they are in color, black-and-white or over exposed,
The images are not always of what is being proposed.

Were we just smiling for the sake of the lens,
Or were we truly satisfied with our lives and friends?

A sense of mystery can lie in each and every one,
“Why was I wearing this or that?”, “Look at my hair!” and “I didn’t know what was about to be done”.

Protect your memories and your photographs as if they were gold,
Something that can never be traded, bought or sold.

And remember, L-O-V-E is what they represent
And just gazing at them is time well spent.

The best is yet to be.

I wrote this post for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop – Prompt #2: Write a poem about a picture.

Mysterious Ways

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