Tag Archives: writing

Luke And Alesia

My friend from Kitsap texted me last night inquiring about my New Year festivity’s. I texted her back a photo exactly what I was doing at 8pm. I was standing in line at McDonald’s! Such excitement with my autistic son Luke, but when I look into his eyes I know exactly this moment here is where I belong.

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Moments

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Blogging is a vehicle that I enjoyed utilizing in the last few years.  In the fringes of life and just holding on with a pen in hand,  I can truly say my blog was a godsend.  As the moments of my life converged into a simple exercise on thoughts put to paper,  I worked toward illustrating my ordinary moments as extraordinary with eyes wide open to the vastness of those everyday experiences.  That was intentional on my part. After all, most life is ordinary and only a tiny portion of is extraordinary.

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A Head’s Up

The irony of my title is fascinating on several levels. It reminds me perhaps most of having a sense of control.  With a head’s up on a situation that needs a thoughtful answer,  I can usually work on a responsible solution. When my autistic son Luke was hospitalized , I was out-of-state and felt out of control of the circumstances.   Fortunately I do not have a learned helplessness mentality.  My fighting spirit keeps me positive  and the idea of developing a problem-solving strategy to deal with life’s difficulties is no stranger to me.

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Me Who

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The school hallway was packed with students.  Working my way through the corridor to my next class, a boy grabbed me in my crotch.  I turned my head around quickly to see the perpetrator.  It was shocking to me that anyone would even consider grabbing me in that region of my body.

Me Who?  The world was a different place back then. Who would care about me?

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Boo—Back By Popular Demand!

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Hey Friends,

Back by popular demand-the scariest post I have ever written.  I noticed my blog is blowing up with views.  It always does at this time of the year due to this particular fun post I wrote four years ago while working on genealogy projects!  It was a fun day.  BOO!

https://alesiablogs.wordpress.com/2013/03/05/the-haunting/

 

 

 

I Need You

Photo Bombed!

Photo Bombed!


I did not realize how much I did. It is true. I need you.  God I really need you. 

I have lost some decent friends to death in the last three years.  Life is not easy.  

As I rewind I know I need you. Starting over like the seasons do year after year, I am left alone knowing my story is so intertwined with you. It is a beautiful tapestry of love. 

My autistic son getting ready for a big splash!

My autistic son getting ready for a big splash!


I came home from a funeral today and while watering my plants, I sense your presence. Its from the gush of the water in my  hose  startled, I hold on and start spraying my flowers.  I think about my autistic son jumping in the lake and I sense your presence.


Water brings life. It is interesting when we are in the desert of life, we may be numb to pain.  When we are touched by rain, we wake up. I know I have. In the desert- I felt alone.  When watering and being rained on, I bow my head and wondered why I could ever think of not needing you. 

Needing Jesus everyday

Needing Jesus everyday

She

She looked down.  Not much reason to look up. 

Resigned to the fact nothing would change her circumstances, she only looked to the ground.  She did not expect to see victory in her despondent state. Dispirited and without much strength to try and change her circumstances, her eyes only stared at what was easy to look at in her moment of despair.  Ants.

They were carrying a load. Was it true ants could carry 20 times their own weight?  They had to be definitely female.  She also remembered the male ant’s primary job was mating and then it died off .  She chuckled. 

Looking back up, her mind was suddenly hit by the shocking truth yet again. This time with a smile on her face.  She was revitalized. Believing in herself with the ability like an ant, she gained the title of “strong woman.”  

Photos captured by Alesiablogs. Randomly selected. May not be related to writing, but intended to inspire.