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Poem: The Weirdest Dream

You were here with me (in a room, in the
sun, by my side, one on one).  I could see
you so clearly, feel you, even, and smell
all your scents – you know, the natural ones;
the perfumed ones; your hands – so warm, so strong
and comforting (all, your essence) – so missed.
I talked with you; laughed with you; saw your smile,
as if never gone; in my arms, alive.

I rolled over and reached for the phone.  Hi,
Mom… “Hi, baby, what’s wrong,” you would ask me.
I just had the weirdest dream about you….
We would talk; our closing of choice being,
“I love you, baby.”  Love you, too, mommy.
Rolling over, as sleep left me, my smile
faded.  Glancing, pitifully, at a
telephone with no connection to you.
How can it be, you’re not here with me?
These dreams only intensify my pain. 

Lost so absolute and unexpected.
Time doesn’t heal the wounds – it spreads them out
to de-intensify… or to numb one.
Memories… they don’t fade, as we sometimes
wish they would – they become detailed through our
rose-colored 20/20 hindsight, as
we see our past as we wish we’d lived it;
perfect and happy, absent of pain and
misunderstandings; moving together,
not apart, one unit, blessed throughout time.

The Weirdest Dream from Clichés: A Life in Verse by LaShawnda Jones

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Poem: Happy 43rd!

Today you would’ve
been 43.
Simply astonishing
how time speeds on
other milestones and
life altering events.
Forty-three years old
today. Can’t picture it.
Painful to never
see you age.
Unreal –
you are forever young
eternally ageless….
So desperately missed.

Happy 43rd! from Clichés: A Life in Verse by LaShawnda Jones

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Mom, you are enough.

Mother’s Day Message: You are enough.

In about three months time, my mom will have been deceased for twenty years – effectively half my lifetime. Having to navigate the world my whole adult life without a mother’s love, guidance, and support has been extremely difficult and lonely. It has also been the impetus propelling me into a relationship with my Heavenly Father through His Son and Holy Spirit. The mother’s love I lost in the world, I found in the Spirit.

This message is for all the mothers (and women in general) out there who are struggling with any aspect of their identity and responsibilities: You are enough.

You Are Enough

You are equipped to provide all the true necessities for yourself and your family.

Despite what you may think, your love will never fail your children. You will always be a light to them, even in the deepest darkest pits they may fall into, everything you represent will be a beacon to them.

Your strength is phenomenal. Even in your weakest moments, your children will look back and view you as the epitome of EVERYTHING.

You can do wrong, but no wrong will outlast your love. Remember that. Give yourself a break when you’re overwhelmed.

You don’t need to go beyond yourself to be the best mommy ever. You already are the best mommy ever – simply because you are the mom your child was blessed with. Know that. Embrace it.

You are a blessing. You are a lover. A nurturer. A builder. A teacher. A guide. A comforter. A savior. A survivor. You are the first true sacrifice and offering your child will ever encounter. You are the first environment of creation your child will ever experience. Your body, the most sacred of temples, hosted and presented life to the world. How awesome is that!?  

Your life will be what influences your children’s life the most. In the midst of your everyday, this may be a lot to think about. So, don’t think about it. Just live.

Be who are. Work on being the best person you can be. Do the best you can do in any given  moment with the full knowledge and acceptance that your best varies depending on the time of day, time of month, time of year and a million other factors. Whatever your best is in any given moment is enough.

Your children understand more than you know. They appreciate you more than they may ever be able to express. You represent everything to them – their beginning, their end, their in between. You are the fabric they will weave their lives from. You are the start line and the line they will return to continuously throughout the relay of life. To your little champs, you are the MVP.

Not far from the tree

During my short time with my mother, she planted the following seeds and lessons in me and they are still flourishing today:

  • She challenged me to be myself
  • She supported me when I spoke up for myself
  • She rebuked my pride and instilled a sense of humbleness and service in me
  • She insisted I respect everyone no matter their actions against me or those I love
  • She showed me the pain and value of forgiveness and how it is inseparable from love
  • She encouraged me to dream of futures I couldn’t see or comprehend
  • She exhibited discipline and patience to me
  • She demonstrated hard-work and perseverance
  • She practiced generosity, grace and kindness
  • She modeled for me the satisfaction of building a life from your own efforts and appreciating all you have even when what you have is counted as nothing by others.

I can go on as I am still learning so much from Mom. There’s so much I didn’t comprehend in my youth that is becoming clear now and bearing fruit.

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Terry Ann: Eulogy


Terry Ann: Eulogy

As the moon shines,
The angels come.

On a warm, hazy night
With stars twinkling bright;
The waves crashed against shore
With their ever beckoning lure.

Terry Ann, my baby;
My beautiful black lady.
A mother, wife, daugther, sister,
Cousin, aunt and friend.

Because of you, my heart beats;
I live and I breathe.
My ambitions stem from your struggles;
My understanding from your love.

You are one of God’s special
Children, touched on the heart.
And as I look to the Lord
There’s no anger for His part.

He has a place worthy of your presence –
Where heartache doesn’t reside.
You’ll not be disappointed, be in no pain,
Now that our Lord has taken you in hand.

On that warm, hazy night,
With stars shining bright;
As Michigan’s waves crashed
With their ever beckoning lure;
I know, as the moon shone upon you,
Your angels came to take you home.

~ LaShawnda Jones, August 1996