She lays awake in the morning hours
In a bittersweet state of reminiscence.
He invades every corner of her mind
For he has always been her happy place.
His sweet smile, his kind heart,
His warm eyes, his laughter,
His lips, his hands, his touch,
His voice, his intelligence, his soul.
She loves everything about him.
She wants to make him happy.
She dreams of forever with him.
There’s no escaping, he is her happy place.
Image source: Google images
Video source: YouTube
Contents compiled: October 10 2016
Originally published: October 10 2016
Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises
Hello lovely people!
As my day comes to a close and my eyes begin to dim, I find myself engulfed in deep reflection. My life has had many ups and downs, and as I struggle to find my happy place amid all the chaos, I find myself often wishing I had a better/closer relationship with my parents.
My dad has already passed on, but mom is still around. I struggle with the notion that she really doesn’t understand me and perhaps doesn’t care to. And in turn, as much as I try to be authentic in my general life, I can’t be that way with her. How frustrating!
As I spent time catching up on my reading today, I stumbled on this piece by one of our loyal followers, Carly Quinn. Her words resonated with me and gave me much food for thought. Delve into her mind for a little while as she relates her story and her solution. Be sure to show her your love. Enjoy!🌷
October 10 2016 (Showcase Reblog)
It’s been almost a year since I’ve had any contact with my father.
It’s a long story, but the short version is that when my mother died my father didn’t handle it or his children well.
I suspect this stand-off has much more to do with my current writing funk than I’m willing to admit.
One of the lines I wrote to him was, We’re are all adults now, we all know why you rushed to get remarried.
I must have re-read that line fifty times. It wasn’t the most shocking thing I said, or the most difficult but it caught my attention and wouldn’t let go. Never in my life did I foresee a day I, as an adult woman, would feel the need take my father to task. In fact, I don’t remember ever thinking about being an adult much at all.
I imagine this he pictured…
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