If you are reading my blogging and enjoy it, let me know. =)

I am basically doing it just to be writing. Somehow, it makes me feel good to write.

When I had my "Instead he gave me a wedgie" thread I felt like my writing was different. More like I was telling an on going story, and I liked it a lot better.

I think it was unfortunate that it was closed but here I am, blogging.

I don't like it much. =( It just feels different....

This is the day that the Lord hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Today is a hard day for many people I know. Somehow it feels like this is the day that He called his angels. I know more than one person who lost a child on this day.

My whole family lost a sweet baby girl who was just a bit over six months old. A pretty little brown haired girl with beautiful eyes and a smile which would captivate anyone's heart. She would have been four years old now....

Even though we are not together anymore, it has still been cause for pain. Every year at Christmas time I see my tree and many of my ornaments and at first it made me sad. The next few years it made me extremely angry.

Even just last year, I cannot begin to explain how angry I would get when I would walk into the ex husbands living room in December, which is actually his girlfriends home.

I see the Christmas tree he bought me for my birthday about five or six years...

Laying here in my bed, the warmth surrounds me. It holds me hostage and I just do not want to get up, knowing I should. Tiny specks of sun shine through my blinds here and there but even still, my eyes want to stay closed, my body wants more replenishment.

Maybe the many things I have to do today are what keeps me here, and nothing else. We have decided that he will come here today, instead of us going out to his area, and that is just fine with me. Driving wears me out.
...

I look across to him as he sits there reading or doing a crossword puzzle. I notice the grey in his hair seems to be more and more. His face covered also, with a grey and white beard.

The lines in his face show the many years he has lived, and they show a hard life. His hand moves to his lower chest and side and his face grimaces in pain.

I worry about him and I know he is all alone. I try to be the best friend to him that I can be. I ask if he is ok, and he tells...