Christmas on Mason Lewis Road I was sitting in my kitchen a few nights ago. It was disturbingly quiet, which is rare for most of us that have a family. The house was void of all light except for the twinkling Christmas lights on my tree and the new addition of curtain lights that I had proudly displayed a few weeks prior. A feeling struck me very deeply, like it always does during the holidays. I could smell the Christmas cookies that my grandmother made for us every year and I could feel the heat coming off the old stove that my grandfather always had blasted at what seemed like 150 degrees. I could, in the dead of the quiet, hear my aunts and uncles discussing the gifts that they had purchased for my grandparents. I could hear the singing of four cousins, one of those being my own tiny voice, as they planned their annual Christmas play to perform for the family. A play that would be practiced as if it were a Broadway performance, yet would never be acted out in that tiny living

The Dirty Word in School: Religion   Like many other writers, I too am a selfish typist. I write about things that strike me emotionally and cognitively. Things that I can relate to in this vast world are the things that I feel the most comfortable with. Sometimes, however, my fingers are forced to tap out words that do not grab at my heart strings. Recently, while being asked to write a paper about religion in the education system, I will admit (although not to my professor) that I was dreading this task. I grew up with a mother that prayed daily, was loyal to God in every way, and you better believe that on Sunday morning I was sitting front and center in that church with her. We were barely able to pay our bills just like everyone else in the 1980’s, but guess who always had a Sunday dress and a pair of tights and dress shoes for Sunday school? I did. Churchgoing in my youth was as unspoken as brushing your teeth every day. You simply did it and the option of sleeping in on a

Unsocial Media I did the unthinkable today. The thing that I never thought I would do. I did a thing that will, while excluding the outside world, will make me feel more involved in it. I logged out of my Facebook account. I lost what felt like one hundred pounds within a matter of seconds. What started out as a place that was meant to make us feel less alone, has only alienated us from one another. The people that are standing in front us, the people that we share our dinner with, and the people that we share our bed with have taken a back seat to things that we can’t even touch. And we can’t get enough. We crave the attention and we have stumbled upon a need to make ourselves appear perfect in everyone else’s eyes. Everyone else’s except for our own. We can’t even have a nice dinner at a restaurant without checking in to see what our friends on social media are doing. We also want to be the person who is doing it better than they are, eating at a better restaurant than they are

Thanks, Praise, and Other Misused Words It seems to me that the best recognition may be no recognition at all. It’s 2019 and it seems now, more than ever, that we are consumed with validation. It’s imperative to us that we be told that we have done an excellent job on a project. No matter how big, small, or vital the task, we look for praise at every turn. We aren’t fulfilled until we have gotten those magical words of affirmation. Of course, praise is always nice to hear, but the words, “great job” are being uttered far too often. They are spoken so much, in fact, that they have ceased to hold meaning. The workplace, our homes, sporting events, and schools are starting to suffer because of it. The workplace provides us with the ability to feed and take care of our families. Inside of that much expected paycheck lies the invisible words, “thank you” and “good job”. We are all guilty of wanting to be acknowledged for the work that we do at home. Whether we mow the yard, clean the

Be a Better Quitter When we were young, we incessantly heard four words from our parents, teachers, grandparents, and respected elders. Those four words were beaten into us with an invisible belt, or a phantom paddle. Do you remember those four words? Of course, you do. Those threatening words are, “don’t be a quitter”. Words that have the power to shame you in an instant. One phrase that will abruptly halt a pocket-sized thought of giving up. I am wondering, though, in my adult life, why aren’t we quitting more often? Now, I am not suggesting that a student quit a sport team or implying that you quit a job simply because you don’t “like” it. I am a believer in an individual finishing what they have started. I am talking about more important matters that affect us in such big proportions that we can’t afford to ignore them any longer.   Maybe we should talk about painful things that are far too often kept a secret from others as a form of self-preservation. How many of us a

12 GAUGE SHOTGUN MOUTH  The word “consequence” is defined as a result or effect of an action or condition. My fear is that soon, this word will no longer be in the dictionary. We seem more often now than not, to ignore the meaning of the word or it’s existence all together. We have started confusing the word “freedom” with the word “rude”. Our freedom of speech does in no way, shape, or form mean that we can say anything that we want to every second that it enters our mind. Don’t get me wrong, you can certainly bellow out your opinions whenever you feel the need to do so, but there WILL be a consequence. You will in turn hurt someone deeply, lose a friend, and you can even lose your career. So yes, you are “free” to do and say what you desire, but there will be a “consequence”. Seems like a lesson that we were taught in kindergarten, right? So why is it so difficult for grown adults to practice this simple action of being “polite”? The answer lies in the word “intolerance”. Whil

UNBURIED TREASURE People make the journey from all over the globe to visit Maysville, Kentucky, yet too many of us are unaware of the beauty that is right around the corner. We are so accustomed to what surrounds us that we take advantage of the fact that we live in one of the most beautiful river towns in America. We don’t spend enough Saturdays on Sutton Street strolling around the Kentucky Gateway museum. When was the last time that you allowed yourself to be mesmerized by that KSB Miniatures Collection? Those little people seem to come alive when given attention. A stroll to the pioneer graveyard behind the museum has its own tales to tell if you will listen close enough. How about a nice long hike at the Cummins Nature Preserve to satisfy your inner wanderer and your need to be one with the rolling hills and creek beds? A trip to Snow Donuts sure would be a well-deserved treat after a five-mile hike, don’t you think? Parc Café is a quaint coffee shop that offers not only you

The Big Picture In what has become part of my Saturday morning ritual, I found myself brewing a cup of joe this morning and reflecting on the week that was in the rear-view mirror.  After a highly anticipated family vacation to Duck, North Carolina, I wanted to delve into the pictures on my cell phone.  After all, you can't go on a vacation without posting a picture on every social networking site possible, right?  Duck is an impressive little village on the Atlantic with a population of 384 vibrant and charming occupants.  Upon arrival, I was in awe of the number of residents and vacationers that I saw riding bikes through the town.  Automobiles seemed virtually out of place here.  I knew immediately that we were destined to have a vacation that none of us would soon forget.  With a daughter leaving us for college in the fall, we needed this time to move as slow as molasses on a January morning.  Soaking up every second of a worry-free week was the goal and we had compl

Today’s Forecast – 100% Chance of Family Today was just like any other day in small town Kentucky.   My husband and I struggled to force ourselves out of bed and into work mode.   This seemingly endless Kentucky rain has taken its toll on everyone’s mentality.   One gloomy rainy day after another has become all too familiar.   I never realized how much our souls need sunshine until being denied so many days without it.   Trying to stay motivated throughout the cloudy day is as much of a challenge as simply staying awake.   The thought of my couch and endless episodes of my favorite show on Netflix have my workday moving ever so slow.   The windshield wipers on my car hypnotize me as I am driving home.   An array of chores face me as I walk in the door and that’s when the hardest tasks begin.   I don’t feel like making dinner and besides, what would I even cook?   I haven’t been to the grocery store in weeks.   Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to take the dogs outside for a quick s

The Blame Game If we don’t stop blaming others every single day for our shortcomings, then we will never be able to embrace ourselves fully.   Can we start recognizing our faults?   We struggle with seeing ourselves as having many imperfections.   If we fail a class, it’s our fault.   The teacher is in no way, “out to get you”.   A teacher takes pride in what he or she does every day and they truly WANT you to learn.   Did you do all your assignments?   Did you work, TRULY work, to your full potential?   Did you participate in every single reading that was handed to you?   If you failed, then the answer is likely no.   It’s far easier and fulfilling to admit your lack of work to your teacher than it is to accuse an educator of not caring about your success.   The reality, my dear friends, is that YOU have to care about your grade more than they do. By taking responsibility, you will, in turn, earn respect. Nearly all of us have been reprimanded, written up, or fired from a job

     Dear Graduates,      The bell rang for the last time.  You probably didn't give it a glimmer of a thought.  You bolted.  Excited for your time in those awkward high school hallways to have come to an end.  You didn't embrace that last trip to your locker because you were simply just impressed that you had actually cleaned everything out of it on time.  That teacher, your favorite teacher, said goodbye to you one last time as a student.  You didn't realize how much pride that he or she felt watching you take that walk to the podium to retrieve your diploma.  These past few months have been an intense whirlwind and your precious time as a "child" has now turned into a, sometimes scary, embarkment into adulthood. The petty fights and social battles that you had in high school will no longer matter and will discipate from your mind completely by the time your five year reunion arrives. You now realize that you have a few short months to spend with friends and l

    And the Trophy Goes To.....  Do you ever wonder why you never hear the term "working father" used in everyday life, yet, "working mother" or "stay at home mother" is a term that rolls off of the lips all too easy?  That's because the term doesn't exist in our culture.  We, as a society, put the emphasis of parenting on the mother.  Are fathers just not getting the credit that they deserve?  We are, without realizing it, discriminating against fathers every single day.  We just do not seem to give them credit for all that they do for our children, and let's be honest, all that they do for us as mothers. They teach our sons how to be respectful, responsible, and hardworking and they teach our daughters that they should always BE respected.  What about the father that works all day outside of the home and then comes home and helps the mother with the cooking and the dishes?  We praise our fellow mothers for working, whether that be in the h

The Cost of a Speeding Ticket      Your life is moving as fast as a Corvette.  When you look out of the window on your journey, all you can see are blurs of beautiful colors but you can't make out what the objects are.  You are under the impression that if you stop the vehicle to take in the scenery, you will inevitably be late to your destination.  What exactly is your destination?  Where are you going in such a hurry?  Maybe it's the dishes.  Those dishes will not shatter if they are left in the sink.  Spend that extra time listening to your children ramble on about nothing at all.  Talk to your family about the upcoming day and make plans for your evening.  The dishes do not care about you.  Are you rushing around to make the bed?  Spend the extra five minutes cuddled up to your husband in that messy pile of sheets and blankets.  He wants nothing more than for you to just relax.  That unmade bed does not care about you, but you are your husband's entire world.  Is the

     Are we, as mothers, living as Jane Does?  It seems that mothers have lost their name.  You are no longer Sally, a woman who has tunnel vision of her life's dreams and aspirations.  You are now Johnny and Kate's mom.  Are we losing ourselves in our master status of Mom with no other option to become Sally again?  Or have we simply allowed ourselves to get lost in the chaos of family?  At times, we feel as if we can't have both worlds, but we can.  I only recently realized this myself.  I decided that my children will move out in a few short years, and the thing that  they will leave behind is this empty house.  They have their own dreams to fulfill.  What will my husband and I do when this happens?  I realized that it's not too late to do what I love.  We, as mothers, have spent most of our adult life nurturing not only our children, but everyone else's as well.  After all, it takes a village to raise children, doesn't it?  Thank God for all of the people in

     When I am home all alone, I often get the creeps.  I make sure that all the doors are closed and locked at all times.  It occurred to me today that we all do that mentally as well.  We leave most doors in our lives closed out of fear.  It's a fear of rejection.  We are scared of being made fun of, especially in this small town, where everyone knows every single detail of your life, or at least they THINK that they do.  We are afraid of failure, and we are scared of our feelings of inadequacy.  We all dream endlessly of pursuing the life that we want, but we are just too afraid to go after it.  Why is this fear woven into our minds so tightly?  So what if you fail?  After all, isn't this what we try to teach our own children?  Do we not tell them to follow their dreams?  Are we hypocrites?  We have to start investing in our own lives.  Do you ever find yourself judging someone that is trying to better themselves?  We all do it.  We do it because we are secretly jealous that

     When I was 8 years old, I received a gift.  I can't even remember who it was from, but I opened a gift, and in it was a beautiful white jewelry box with a ballerina inside.  You know the kind...you wind up the little piece of metal on the bottom of the box, and poof, you have a twirling ballerina inside the middle of it and places to put your jewelry on both sides of her.  That ballerina sure could twirl, but that wasn't all that she could do.  She could see everything that happened in that small bedroom that I lived in.  She knew me more than anyone.  She saw a girl that would spend hours listening to read-a-long records, and she knew that I would sing all day long if I could.  She knew that I lived to play my little keyboard and pretend that I was in a band.  She saw the hardships that I had with my father and she watched my brother and I hide out in the middle of our adjoining closets.  She knew that my brother and I fought to the death most days, especially during sum

Bring Back the Dinner Table        Lucky are the children who grew up in the 1980's.  They were poorer but much richer times.  I got out of bed on a Saturday morning in 1984 and poured myself a bowl of Lucky Charms, careful not to pour too much, because cereal was considered gold in my house.  We didn't have the option to eat cereal for dinner just because mom was making minute steaks with mushroom gravy.  We ate that minute steak like it was the last meal we would have for the day, because it was.  If I was lucky enough to find that magical toy in the cereal box, then I would have to fight for it.  I would fight my brother like that toy was worth one million dollars. The toys in the Lucky Charms boxes were better than the Cornflake boxes where you had to mail in your proof of purchase and a five dollar money order in exchange for an "Olympic" jacket.  Boy was I disappointed when I received a basic piece of plastic in the mail after waiting for six long weeks. 

To the Mother That Shared the Bleachers With Me      Dear Fellow Mom,       I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.  I know that you are wondering why I am showing you such gratitude.  It would be easy to forget all of the things that we have shared without thinking much about it.  You were there when I took my daughter to her first day of Kindergarten and gave me a hug, and when we shared together one of her biggest milestones, I felt connected to you and I was able to stay strong. I, in turn, patted your little one on the head and told her that she was so smart and beautiful and she would do just fine on her first day in this new social environment.  When I went through my divorce that same year, you were there.  You didn't even know it, but you were there.  Every time I saw you at a school function or a little league soccer game, you made me feel better without even knowing what you were doing for me.  You told me that I was beautiful and you said that I was a