21 Years Long


Twenty one years ago, I was Ashley’s age. I was in the 5th grade, I had long brown hair that my mother refused to let me cut, and I was even more of a dork that I am now. I still liked to read more than I liked to talk to people, and you could still find me hanging out with animals more than with my friends.

Today, in 2018, we had a pretty standard day. Jon and I had to work, and Noodle had to go to school. So the day started off with Jon getting to work, me having coffee in bed, and Noodle playing around with the cats. A pretty relaxed morning before I had to drop her off at school. She had a regular day at school, I had a regular day at work, and we both got home and are relaxing while Jon makes us stuffed mushrooms for dinner. Right now I’m writing, Ashley’s harassing my sister on Snapchat, and Jon’s listening to his videos while dinner is finishing up. It’s a decent day.

In 1997? It was a much different day. I had woken up in the early morning hours to use the bathroom, only to find out that my mother had fallen into a coma. I remember mumbling “uh okay” and going back to bed just to dwell on the fact that my mom had been too tired to sing her “good night” song to me before bed the night before. I had insisted my little sister go first.. trying to be a good older sister and all. A few hours later, I crawled out of bed to be informed my grandparents were coming to pick my sister and I up for the day. 

We spent the rest of the morning trying to be .. normal? I don’t think my brain quite understood what a coma was being in 5th grade and all. All I knew is that my mom was asleep and not waking up. It was pretty surreal, even when my grandparents encouraged me to crawl into bed with my mom and say goodbye. I remember laying there and praying to whatever god I believed in to let my mom be okay.

Because what 5th grader understands “terminal cancer”? 

I realized maybe 15 minutes later that she wasn’t going to be when my grandmother started describing her version of heaven once we got into her car. 

I don’t remember the rest of that day from 21 years ago. 


21 years have past. Each year that passes I reflect, I remember, and I learn. This year I think is a bit special to me since Ashley and I are the same age. She’s the age I was when I lost my mom.. so this year it just hits a little closer to my heart. So this year? I am grateful for the very simple things. 21 years ago, I was exactly her age, in exactly her grade, and had *just* lost my mother. I was starting on a new, seemingly horrific part of my life. 

Today? I’m sitting next to my own daughter, listening to her send her screeching raptor noises over snap chat to my unsuspecting sister and cracking up. We may not have done anything super fun today, or anything she’ll remember in 21 years, but that’s okay with me. Considering what I remember 21 years ago? I’ll take it. I’m grateful for the simple things, and how lucky I  really am.


I miss you mom.


Almost flattered.


Well actually I do.  Apparently, living my life and being happy is enough for someone to hate me for 9 months now.  9 months, that’s a long time I’ve had to endure online attacks, at least the texts have stopped.  It’s amazing though, I’m almost flattered.  I haven’t been doing anything to provoke anyone, the only thing I’ve been doing is keeping to myself and writing.  I’ve been working hard, enjoying the little things, and loving my family.  Unfortunately for me, that’s enough for a hater to hate.  Yet again, the same person is actively slandering me on the internet.  Yet again, the same person has stated (is this the 2nd or 3rd time) that my own daughter would be better off if I was dead.  The difference this time?  Instead of just saying “dead”, she said murdered.  

I don’t get it.  I know she had her feelings hurt when Ryan refused to see her anymore, but come on!  She cheated on him!  I don’t understand how us being happy is a personal attack to her.  She has said it’s not that, then what is it?  Read through my twitter (it’s linked at the right upper corner of my page).  Read through my blog.  When was the last time I even mentioned this?  Maybe when I had to file a police report?  I don’t know what I’m doing to egg on these attacks, and not only attacks against myself, but attacks against my daughter.  My 4 year old daughter.  What adult person attacks a child?  That’s what I don’t understand.  No matter how much I dislike someone, I never bring their children into it.

At first, I was going to defend myself against the things she has stated online, but you know what?  I’m not.  I know they are not true, the people close to me know they are not true.  That is good enough for me.  I live a good life, I stay out of trouble, and I take care of my daughter.  I have good people in my life and I’m happy with where things are.  I’m tired of the attacks, I’m tired of the taunting.  I’m done.  I don’t care if this person calls me a whore, slut, or whatever they may, but that’s on them if they want to believe it.  I just want to be left alone, and I want my child left out of it.  I will protect my family, it’s the most important thing to me.  I am done with this nonsense.