Monday, February 8, 2016

My Parent's Bed...

I'm 39 years old and I still remember the warmth from my parent's bed. I can't tell you how many times my mom and dad would run us out of their room at night when we were little. No matter how many covers I had on my own bed, I could never seem to find the same warm spot like my parents had. Their bed felt softer and cozier. I didn't have nightmares in their bed even when they weren't in the room, I felt safe and protected.

Here I am decades later, and I find myself running my own kids out of our room. I've even tried to hit below the belt by saying to my children "Do you know what your dad and I do in this bed?" to which they reply "We don't care." Just today, my son jumped in our bed, wrapped himself under the covers and said "Mom, what is it about your bed." I looked him and I smiled but I didn't run him out like I usually do because today I remembered.
I'm pretty sure some of you can relate to where I am coming from. When I was younger, I wondered if my love for my parent's bed was because they had better mattresses and sheets. Today I understand, that had nothing to do with it. I was simply feeling the warmth from their love.

Thursday, February 4, 2016


Please Read or Watch My Blog Post 6:03 PM on February 4, 2011,

Even in the middle of tragedy, I am amazed at how the mind can remember the smallest detail.

For me it’s 6:03 pm on February 4, 2011…that’s what I remember.

I’ve blogged about my sister’s sudden passing several times before so you all know Latoshia died suddenly in her sleep sometime in the early morning on February 5, 2011. But as I stood in her yard and watched the coroner’s van take her body away, my mind went back to the last conversation we had. I was desperate. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening so I grabbed my phone and I scrolled through my time time log until I reached 6:03 pm on February 4, 2011. That call was the beginning of the last time I would speak to my sister. She was telling me about her day and she was cracking jokes left and right. She had rolling. We laughed so much and I thank God for that sweet memory. But if I would have known, it would be our last conversation, I would have talked a little longer. I would have told her how much I loved her. I would have apologized for all the times I acted stupid. I wouldn’t have let her go to sleep.

So today I ask you, if you knew that a conversation at 6:03 pm with someone you loved would be your last, what you say? What would you do? How long would you talk with them? You see my sister’s death has taught me so much about life and the importance of cherishing every moment you have because I know now more than ever that tomorrow is not promised to you. We take so many things in life for granted. We take our spouses, our children, our families and friends for granted. I refuse to live life full of regrets…that’s why I hug and kiss on my husband and kids so much. That’s why I tell my family and friends how much I love them. That’s why I am so passionate about motivating and helping others; it’s because I know the breath taking pain behind losing a piece of you.

I encourage those of you who are reading this, to (if you haven’t) start making the most of every minute…every second you have with the people you love. It’s not about life being too short, it’s about time well spent. Right now you are blessed with a clock that continue to tick but for me and my sweet sister…I am left with the bitter-sweet time stamp from 6:03 pm on February 4, 2011.

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