Today I sat back, looked at the clear blue sky above the majestic mountains in front of my desert home and cried. I am blessed, I thought. I was in wonder of the exceptional joys in my life. My Mom is 91. My forty eight year old son is happy with his 23 year old daughter, his five month old son and his thirty three month old grandson. I am a great- grand mother that has the opportunity to participate in the lives of her loved ones. The antics of my children young and old are what now bring me my greatest joys. My Mom comes alive with laughter, hugs and kisses when any of her “babies” are near her. I appreciate our ability to find this joy in our life.

I say this now, as I have never felt so complete before, that I am content. I am full. The need to excel, provide, educate and comfort are now limited to the future of my “babies.” My own personal aspirations are dwindled by my hopes and dreams for them. As a young and mostly single mother I did not have the time or disposition to always see every step, hear every cry or anticipate every need of my own child.   I have been given a second chance that has been my miracle.  My “babies” with their first steps, spilled milk and runny noses are the inspiration to write my children’s stories hoping to entertain, amuse and educate both children and parents alike who may be, like I was, unable to see every step, hear every cry or anticipate every need and yet want to.



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