Sunday, May 12, 2013

Pure & Raw love

Where do I start? I've been thinking about this all week; what to say, what not to say.
How do I even begin to put all of my thoughts and feelings about my Mom in one post?
I decided to stay on one topic. Forgive me if my brain wanders elsewhere, in the end, I promise I'll sum it all up.
It began when my Mom was eight months pregnant. She fled a horrible situation, not because she, necessarily had the strength physically or emotionally, but she knew she had to save my life. Using the love for a child that she hadn't even met yet she was able to gain the strength to change my life forever.
That was the first decision among many, many, many others that her love for me came first.
She and I have been through so much together that we could write a series of New York Times Best Sellers.
She's Yelled.
I've Screamed.
She's Held me. Tightly.
I've embraced her.
I've called her names. Names that no daughter should even utter to their Mother.
She's called me names. Names that I've truly deserved.
She grieved with me when my baby died.
Although, she remained strong to hold me up.
I slept in her bed the night the Angels took Isaiah.
She stroked my hair until I fell asleep.
I stole from her.
She forgave me. She never judged me. She stood by me.
I've gone crazy and done some pretty bad things.
She knew it wasn't the true me.
She fought for me.
She got me help.
She tells me that I'm beautiful.
Because she knows that is something that I need right now.
She's slapped me.
I deserved it.
She listens to me bitch, whine and moan.
 Then tells me to work it out and stay positive.
She treats my children like they are the most precious jewels that God has ever made.
She tells me the truth.
She found my Daddy.
She married my Daddy.
She loves my Daddy.
She has probably spent over 100 hours just sitting by my side in the hospital.
She's the only one ever that would drop anything just to sit in a chair for hours waiting for test results.
I still cringe at the way she slurps her latte.
She still slurps. :)
I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt, even with all of my horrible, ugly insecurities, she is the person that will never, ever leave me.
My Mom is my best friend and as I look back, she has been since she was eight months pregnant with me. I'm just now realizing what a real best friend is. Honestly, I have never been one to anyone else. Being a best friend is not just about having fun or having inside jokes. Its about having that deep, raw, connection with someone else's soul that you could absolutely never live without. It means always putting the other person above yourself, loving them first and yourself second. NEVER being selfish, always being honest and never breaking promises.
Mom, You've been my best friend this whole time, your actions prove that. I can only pray the changes that I have made in my life will show you that I, too, am your best friend.
I Love you to the Moon and back.
Happy Mother's Day!


  1. Sorry Baby, you're wrong. I left as soon as I found out I was pregnant with you, about 10-12 weeks. I'd taken enough kicks to the head, punches to the ribs, guns in my mouth, you, my daughter, you saved me. I left because I wouldn't allow you to live the way I allowed myself to be treated. You, dear one, saved me.

  2. plus, I think I've earned slurping a hot latte! slurp, slurp....

  3. CRINGING!!!!!!!! AAAAHHH!!! LOL!!!

    I thought your ribs were broken at 8 months? was it 8 weeks?

  4. Same way, my Jakob saved me.

    1. No, actually your father with a shotgun saved you.

  5. Oh dear one, this is glorious and lovely. What a true connection and forever love you guys have. Bless you and your amazing family!

  6. my ribs were broken way before you. I had a huge knot on my forehead the day I found out I was pregnant with you. I began planning then to get out. It took me about 1.5 weeks. I was with nanny and papa from the time I was about 11-12 wks preg. with you. Without the help of my friend, that is now the Senior Attorney with the Government Accounting Office. She took me to the airport, she helped me get out.

  7. You have joined the wonderful league of survivors. I say this with a wry smile. The elements of your story are spread throughout the span of my mother's story, and mine. I ended up with the BiPolar Gene, I look at my children and pray every day they won't know this hell. You are blessed because you have a mom who's walked that path, but also because these days you can walk it with others who are walking, stumbling, crawling, holding on with their fingernails even! the path of a BiPolar, the path of a momma, the path of a daughter. We don't think we're brave, often when we're being our most brave. We don't think we're strong, again when we're being our strongest. It's only when some unknown says to us that we are brave and we are strong that we believe, that we stop thinking it's just support from our loved ones. You-like your momma before you-are brave. You are Strong.

  8. how else do you drink a hot latte? you'd burn your lips and mouth otherwise. I could be wrong though. i love you both!

  9. Oh, Wow; just Wow! Talk about your mom's devotion to you, Karli! That is just so awesome. But considering how awesome your Diva-mom is, we can smile, and nod our heads knowingly, and say, "Once again the Diva was acting in character."

    Blessings and Bear hugs!
    Bears Noting
    Life in the Urban Forest (poetry)

    1. Bear, have I ever told you that I love you? Have you seen the picture yet? It's miss Nina, otherwise called, "The Poodle." lol

  10. So raw and beautiful. What a great tribute to your mom. Hold in there...our days go up and down, and sometimes spin but it's so wonderful when we have someone there to hold us up, to not judge and truly, unconditionally love us.

  11. I love the way you hang your truths out for all to see. Wonderful! I only know your mom from blogs and FB, but I realize how totally awesome she is. :)