House of A Writer

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

One liner Wednesday

I’ve been thinking of what inspires me lately and I came across a beautiful quote. I will share it with you today.

“Who are you to judge the life I live?
I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t live to be.
But before you start pointing fingers make sure you’re hands are clean.”

-Bob Marley

This powerful quote is my submission to One liner Wednesday. Please check out her talent and all the others that link up. Thank you. ?

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I watch my son
Playing in the water, happily
He splashes, dives, and sings.
Pure joy he brings.

This is my first attempt at writing a Haiku since high school. I’m still not sure is its proper, but it brought me happiness to write it. This is my first assignment for Blogging 201Poetry.




I’m so relieved I got through this day. I had two hockey games, six trips back and forth and stressful moments. I was finally home and then I went for a nice walk with my sister. We talked about life, love, and memories of our Dad.

He died six years ago today and I don’t know how that time passed. It felt like it stood still for me for a long time. I hold my breath waiting to exhale and heal from this grief. One thing I know is it takes one day at a time. And with great love comes great sorrow. I wonder who I’ll be without the grief, will I even recognize myself? All I know is I keep on living and being the best me I can be. And with that knowledge I know I honour his memory and heal my heart a little more each time.

So I’m thinking of him and enjoyed a nice dinner with my lovely sister and niece, and we toasted to him and all our wonderful memories. It’s so hard just having the memories to cherish, and not the person to hold. So many days, months, and years have passed and I found myself hanging onto precious moments. As they’re all I have now, which hurts more than having to say goodbye.

I pray I don’t forget his laughter, as he had a belly laugh that started at his toes and lifted you up in love and delight. He could curse a blue streak and smile mischievously, he could whistle a tune of anything he heard on the radio and know it by ear.

He loved with a heart as vast as the ocean and would give his shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. Even if it left him naked, and cold. He loved to be helpful and kind, and it’s from him that I learned to pay it forward regardless if there was any reciprocation. He gave with every ounce of his being and still wanted to give more! He taught me what it was to be a humanitarian and see the big picture of things instead of judgement.

I love, miss, cherish, and admire the man he was and the man he was becoming. Thinking of my Dad inspired this poem. Hugs to you in heaven Dad. I know it’s a better place up there with you in it. ❤️

This has been my submission to for her Saturday Stream of Consciousness. The prompt was the opposite emotion. I chose the opposite of happy and wrote about sadness.





I have a poor memory, it’s not something I like to admit but there it is. It’s not that I’ve always struggled with this, it was something that just happened. I had a photographic memory for phone numbers, birth dates, and numerology. I could relay people’s phone #’s addresses, and list their favorite movie titles when I was a video cashier. Then the day I became a Mom and I was gutted like a fish, and my babies entered the world there went my memory. I read everyday whether it’s book’s, blogs, research, or my Facebook newsfeed. I read to absorb, learn, and grow as a person. I wonder what would have happened to me, if I had regained my once amazing memory. If I hadn’t suffered 5 years of debilitating grief would my ability to retain information be different? I don’t really know, and that’s the first time I’ve ever asked that question of myself…. I rely on my memories of my loved ones I lost, to keep me buoyant on the troubled seas of life. I rely on searching my memory bank and pulling out those moments of my Dad’s laughter, my Mom’s beautiful singing voice, and my Gram and Grandpa saying my nickname. I love to travel back in my memory to the loving Irish lilt spoken by my Great Aunts and my Gram in conversation over tea and scones. It’s my memories that I preserve in scrapbooks, photo albums, and on my camera roll that sustain and give me joy. If I didn’t have my memories I’d have nothing. We all need to store important information, thoughts, and pictures in our minds memory. It’s the very thing that gives up pure happiness, comfort in times of sadness, and the security of knowing just how loved we are. I am always testing my memory by walking into a room, and wondering why the hell I’m there, and what did I need to find. I tease myself and ask my son if I’ve locked my truck when we’re going grocery shopping. He always answers “yes Mom, did you hear the beep?” Will I always have a poor memory? I don’t know, I sure hope not, as I struggle with sleep deprivation and exhaustion. And unfortunately this is one of the most common side affects. And as I slowly change my diet I’m hoping to be lifted out of this brain fog I’ve been in. In order to keep my memory from failing I will read, write, learn, and forgive myself for the things I’ve forgotten. I’ll love the memories that I’ve been able to hang onto, and will cherish them and hold them close to my heart. It’s what my loved ones deserve, and all those moments in time that were once so special to me. And I will create new and beautiful memories with my family and friends. I will make this my upmost priority before they all fade away like moonbeams in the moonlight.

This has been my submission to for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. The prompt was memory, please checkout what she wrote about, and all the other talent that linked up. Thank you for letting me relive some wonderful memories. ❤️