Jsack's Mom's Blog

Welcome to my blog where I share my special needs parenting journey with my heart, truth, and love, one story at a time. ❤️

Love in ten lines 

I’ve been blessed to have a friendship that I’m thankful for every day. The first male blogger I ever read, understood, and felt understood me. The first time I read his blog I crushed hard on his words, thoughts, and heart. I’ve grown in this friendship and have grown to know and love him and his family. I still have to quiet my fan girl voice that screams in my head when we chat. The one, the only, Punk Rock Papa wants to talk to me!!! An ordinary Canadian gal who found him via a blog link up with More Than Cheese and Beer. Here we are today friends, confidants, bunker punks, and writer’s in arms. I still feel that glow of pride when I look at the first story he published of mine on the The Original Bunker Punks. Today he nominated me with a poetry challenge called Love in Ten Lines. I hope I can rise to the challenge he’s set before me with as much beauty and grace as he has.  ❤️

Love you, love me. 

The love I see. 

deep into love, lust. 

your arms love, trust. 

The love I see. 

Burns, love, for me. 

Hold me my love. 

Kiss me my love. 

Absorb my love now. 

My soul, love, thou. 

Love quote

 

So now it’s my turn to nominate for this lovely challenge so I will cast my vote for these amazing poets

Angrivated Mom
Sparkly Poetic Weirdo
How my Brain Works
Linda G. Hill
Silver Threading 

The rules are as follows:

•Write about love using only 10 lines.

•Use the word love in every line.

•Each line can only be four words long.

•Nominate others who are up for the challenge.

•Let them know about the challenge.

•Title the post: Love in Ten Lines

•Include a quote about love (this can be your own).

•You may write in any language.


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Theft  

I’ve put my heart and soul into the words I write. I have spoken and written the truth. It’s the way I live my life, and it’s what I teach my children. But what if I’m asked “Mommy are we going to be ok?” Are we going to find Daddy? How do I answer that when I don’t really know, I’m honest, truthful, as I’ve just said but not this time. The theft of my conscience in that moment rocked me to my core. 

It started out as a wonderful night of my husband and I surprising our kids. We were going into the city and going to see our first live Lacrosse game. We drove to the train station and started on our journey. My youngest son loves trains, and we’ve watched Thomas on Netflix on a continuous loop. To say he was excited is the understatement of the year. We started out on our train ride while talking about the sights we were seeing before us. 

Half way to our destination we found out the train route was being redirected and we would have to take the bus. So we went from excitement to a new change, which my youngest son doesn’t deal well with it at all. We boarded a very busy bus and sat in our seats. I sat behind the bus driver and my son got really upset because I sat in his seat. I picked him up and set him on my knee, which caused him to really panic. As he was freaking out and flailing in my arms, my husband stood up and I moved him back to his seat. 

Everything was under control as I checked in with my oldest son who has problems with being in close proximity to people in crowds. He was coping the best he could, because he could see his brother was struggling. Then I hear a woman talking she says “I wouldn’t have let him have the seat. I did that before and it ending badly.” I looked at her surprised she was even talking to me that’s when the theft of my patience happened. I said “he has autism, back off!” She replied that her son had it too.

 I had to stay my tongue even though I was boiling inside. I wanted to say “bitch you take care of your own backyard, and stay out of mine!” But I grumbled to my husband while the ignorant woman’s daughter listened to my every word. We finally reached our destination and the weather was bitterly cold so we ran to the arena. I was very relieved to find our seats and to sit down and wait for the festivities to start. The game was very exciting, action packed, and loud. By the third quarter my son’s were done. So we packed up to leave and started out for the train. It was getting ready to leave so my husband said jump on with the kids, so we did just that. He stayed at the ticket booth and we sat down to wait for him. 

The theft of my heart crushed me as I watched the doors close behind me. I tried to open them but the train was moving and the button wouldn’t engage. I sat with my son’s as they began to cry and wail for their Daddy. My own heart was breaking with their pain and anguish. I held them and tried to calm their fears and still my own. We had to get off the train and a woman was telling me instructions on what train to catch. I got out and waited for my husband and after 15 minutes he hadn’t shown up. My oldest began to cry so I hugged him, then my youngest wanted to be held. There was two security guards nearby and they asked how they could help. 

I told them of our situation and they radioed security at the last station with my husband’s description. We waited inside the bus terminal and then a man got the hackles on my neck rising up. So I went outside to stand with the security guards. The one was a wonderful British man who started talking to my son’s about sports. He was giving them a great distraction and me the tired Mama, a break. He got the call back and they couldn’t find my husband, so I made the decision to take the train home. 

I had told my son’s I wouldn’t leave the city without their Dad. But it was getting late and colder and I believed this was the best decision. When I’ve been lost before I’ve always remembered that if you go back to your original destination, that’s where you’ll find your beginning. As we boarded the train I silently thanked God for protecting us and held my son’s closer. What is it about the late nights that bring the creepy people out?!! Ugh creepy guy at 1:00, as my Mama bear is on high alert. My oldest is squeezing my hand so tight my knuckles are turning white. Yet I don’t say anything but “I’ve got this son, we’ll find your Dad and I have friends that live by the train station.”

He seemed to relax a little knowing that so we start counting the stops and coming up with rhymes. I’m doing my best to occupy his mind as his little brother is loving being on the train. We finally arrive at our destination and see my husband walking towards us. My heart skips a beat and I see him smile with relief. Our son’s run to him and I almost collapse with relief!  We get to our truck, warm up my seat and head home. Hoping that I will never have to go through that theft of loss again. 

This has been my Sunday confession with http://www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. Please check out her anonymous confessions on her Facebook page. As well as all the other talent who link up. Thank you for popping by. 💓

  

  

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Writer’s Quotes Wednesday

Inspiration from Starbucks 

  

My inspiration from Starbucks

 

This has been my submission to https://silverthreading.com. It’s amazing what some free time and a cup of chai will do! Please check out her wonderfulness and all the other talent who link up. Thank you.  💓

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Pet

I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood. Things that made me happy, sad, and comfortable in my own skin. I was born two days after my oldest sisters graduation. My Mom and Dad came home with me from the hospital and my middle sister wanted a baby brother. My Dad did the next best thing and got her a dog. He was a black Labrador Retriever and he was named Bo. What an amazing dog he was by far the best pet I ever had theprivilege to love. We didn’t own him he owned our hearts. I don’t even have a picture of him, and if one exists it’s living on a slide. I was born in the day when film was developed into slides. And I’ve acquired quite a collection from my Dad. My long term goal is to convert them to digital and make copies on CD.  

This isnt my dog , but he sure looks like him. Image found on http://www.321dogs.com

Bo was a truly amazing dog, I grew up with him as he 
was just a puppy when my Dad brought him home. He would let my sister and I dress him up in my brother’s t-shirts, hats, and he even let us put a cigar in his mouth! He loved is and was our other brother with fur. When my parents marriage ended and my Mom, sister, and I went to live somewhere else Bo came with us. My Dad didn’t want to split us up and really that was the kindest thing he could do as I was only four and my heart was broken. Bo was my best friend and allowed me to cry and hug him so tight. His fur would be soaked with my tears and yet there he would stay. He got me through many heartaches in my life breakups, arguments with my family, and feeling lonely. We spent so much time together over the years, and Bo would walk my sister and I to and from the bus stop every day. He was our neighbourhood dog and everyone loved him. He would get us home from school, play, and then go off to do his visiting rounds. He would end up at our neighbours down the road, hanging out with their little dog. Across from our home was a field all the kids in the neighbourhood would get together and play baseball and football down there. It was so much fun to see Bo getting excited and chasing the baseball when it would get hit. And since I was an excited child is always throw my bat, and he’d chase after it and bring it back to the next batter up. I still have that wonder bat, my Lousiville Slugger. 

This is a picture of what my bat looks like. It’s a childs version and it goes with me, wherever I live.

As I got older Bo slowed down a lot more. He got more grey

on his whiskers and the tuft of white fur became grayer as well.  He’d still come to to meet us at the bus stop, but he’d sleep in longer in the mornings. I remember the day I could see him out the bus window as I was coming home. All of us kids would knock on the window and wave at him. Suddenly an image flashed in my head and it was dog’s face with fear in his eyes. When I snapped out of it, I opened up my window and yelled at Bo to go home. He couldn’t hear me and I saw his fear filled face and he disappeared under the wheels. I was just sick and ran to the front and demanded my bus driver let out. He did immediately when he saw the tears starting to form in my eyes. 

This was a traumatic memory for me. I didnt look or speak to my busdriver for a long time after.

I ran to see Bo laying there on the front of our neighbours lawn. His fur was matted with blood and when I hugged him he yelped. I continue to pat his head and pray that he was going to be okay. Soon I was surrounded by a crowd of my friends and my sister and our Mom were there beside me. I listened to Bo’s panting and nuzzled my face into his and felt his soft breath on my cheek. I didn’t want to leave him but my Mom was guiding me away and our neighbour was coming to help attend to our dog brother. 


It was two days before my twelfth birthday and I had to say goodbye to my best friend. This happened thirty years ago and I’ve never forgotten it, not wrote about it till now. A piece of my heart went away with my beloved Bo that day. An amazing dog, brother, and best friend. He was very friendly, socially inept, a great temperament and best family pet I could ever ask for. I haven’t wanted to own a pet since that day. But if I ever do it will be a black Labrador Retriever. My oldest son asked me when he was four, if he could have a puppy or a baby brother. I came through on my end of the bargain, so for now we enjoy our visits with our neighbours dog. It makes me smile when I see my youngest son running up and down the yard with Frankie the daschund. I close my eyes and I can see my beloved Bo running on the rainbow bridge. 

This has been my submission to https://lindaghill.com SOCS please check out hers and all the other talent that link up. Thank you for stopping by today. 💓

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Writer’s Quotes Wednesday’s 





This is my submission for http://silverthreading.com please check out her talent as well as everyone who links up. This poem is dedicated to my sweet step sister. Gone too soon, but never forgotten.  Thank you. 💗

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Ode to my Mom

Elizabeth Louise was her name.
Loved by everyone who knew her.
Intrinsically gifted with humour and the gift of gab.
Zealous with her love, honesty, and faith.
Amazing with her glowing light of virtue and trust.
Beautiful beyond measure inside and out.
Eloquently soft spoken with a sharp wit.
Talented, gifted, devoted to the ones she loved.
Heart of gold, my best friend, and heroine of my dreams.

This is a poem for my beloved Mama. She was my gift, to my siblings, and the world. Today I wrote this poem for her as part of my Day 3 Blogging 201 assignment. The word trust was the prompt and in the acrostic form of poetry.

IMG_3910

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