For My Friend Kelly...

   Today has been a long, long day...I thought I was going to get to write about something that would be laughable and encouraging. But alas, its just not in the cards. When you lose a child all you can do is pretend to forgive and keep pushing forward. While I understand that there are people out there who can and will forgive someone for taking their child...this is different, this is so much different....

Let me talk to you about Kelly and Remington.

   Kelly is my friend, of almost 8 years now. She has 2 sons....correction had 2 sons. When she moved here in 2010 she was the single mother of a 5 year old, and a 14 year old. I didn't meet her right away, I didn't "meet" her until one of my kids birthday parties. All of the children were playing outside when it came time for cake and ice cream. I sent someone out to gather all the kids and they gathered all the ones they knew were at the party, leaving one child outside by himself. It wasn't long before the whispers of one very pissed off new neighbor were swirling. I decided to address it head on. I walked over and she stepped outside and explained to me that other neighborhood kids were invited in, just not hers. I apologized for the misunderstanding (ALL of the neighborhood kids were invited- the person I sent out just didn't know who he was). She went on to explain that her youngest son is Autistic and his feelings were hurt. I fixed it by giving him cupcakes and introducing my kids to him.  Anyway, from there- the rest is history.

Kelly and me 2012

She has become one of my most beloved. I just spoke with her this evening about how I wanted to write about Remington, but that I wanted to wait until all was said and done. But he's on my heart tonight and I feel the urge to share everything that was, is and could have been Remington. She's had a particularly trying day and my heart hurts for her as it has since that August morning when I heard sobs coming through the phone. She was my "full of life" friend. The one that you never thought would grow old or ever tire of life. The one who seemed to have all of her dreams come true....

  
   Remington was 14 when they moved to my neighborhood. He was in the beginnings of rebellion, but somehow maintained a calm. His best friend was basically a permanent fixture, so we got to know him too. They were boys...rowdy, loud, and fun boys. The first time I met Remington was actually a long time ago- but we didn't realize that until way later. I was actually a teachers aide in one of my high school classes and I helped his 1st grade teacher. He was actually one of my favorites then too. My first run in with him in our neighborhood was on a sunny weekend in the summer when he had about 5 friends over and they were out doing boy stuff in the play area. Two of the boys started to fight and while Remington tried to stop it, it just happened anyway. So me...being the mom that I am walked outside- "hey, stop that shit!" They all looked at me and the fight broke up. One of them uttered something under their breath and they got a swift "shut up, you're going to not be allowed over anymore!" from Remington. Remington looked at me and smiled "I'm sorry ma'am"- I knew I was had as soon as I saw that smile. I knew this was going to be the one to fill the void of a little boy that I didn't have. He was no saint in the years to come but he was special and he loved everyone. I watched him grow for 6 years. When I write "6 years" its hard to believe that's all I got. It felt so much longer. It felt like a lifetime.

   For 6 years I watched him blossom and grow as a person. Don't get me wrong, he went through every trial imaginable for a teen being raised in a small town that is a tourist destination, and Spring Break retreat. Everybody talks and no ones shit stinks. Ya know? He had normal teen troubles for this area...but it doesn't matter about that- it matters who he became.

Kelly & Remington

He had the kind of relationship with his mother that women can only hope they have with their son. He would tell her everything and she wanted to know everything. Some moms don't want to know about their son's girlfriends, or the trouble that they might get into....but she did and he made sure she knew. Her very last messages from him were of him telling her he loved her and that he couldn't wait for her to visit. She was so lucky to have him as her son, and he was lucky to have her as his mom. She gently guided (sometimes not so gently), and he did whatever the hell he was going to do anyway. But he always made his mother proud. He always made things right, even if he did them wrong in the beginning. She was blessed to have a son like him. They even had a saying "I love you bigger than the sky"....this 19 year old man would still say that to his mom. He was a gift.

   We all were so excited to see what kind of man he would become. We only got a glimpse of it.

   He was a light, a shining beacon for all who met him. A warm smile and a laugh that was contagious. We all speak of him; daily. Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we cry. Sometimes we do both at the same time.

   I couldn't decide at first whether to write about how he left us and why or not to. I decided not to. I'll write about that in the future when I have something to be joyous about. For now we're all stuck in a frozen state of grief waiting on...something. A conclusion I guess. I spoke with his aunt today and what we both agreed is that even though it has been close to two years since he left us- it feels like yesterday. Not in the way that people say "Oh, it gets better with time"- this doesn't. For some of us its like reliving the month August of 2015 every. single. day.

   Remington played sports when he was little, but he wasn't much of a sports person himself when he got older. NO ONE rooted for Auburn like Remington. He was a die hard fan ready to support his team when the haters came. He disliked Alabama, and so did I so it gave us something to rant about together. We took on the world during football season.

   He was kind. I've gone out of my way trying to find someone who didn't like him....I haven't found any. When he was taken from us his Facebook page filled with sympathy, well wishes, and utter disbelief. One thing we saw that was so common was confusion. Confusion that he was gone, and why. Confusion that he was ripped from our world just a day after conversations with many of us. Hundreds of posts, and messages poured into our Facebook accounts. Anyone, and everyone needed help to understand what was happening in the world. Our pages filled with his bright smile shining at you through your computer or phone. Images of him with his family, friends, and selfies posted.

   He was funny. Despite the age difference between us, we had a quiet fondness for one another that became our bond. He used to swagger down the sidewalk and I would say "where you going hot stuff?" An he would reply "wherever you want me to go"...we would laugh and he would carry on his way and I mine. I would interrogate his girlfriends and he would ask if I liked them. He finally got to interrogate a boyfriend for me. I finally got his approval...2 years later.

Remington and Kelly after his high school graduation.

As he got older it became more and more obvious he was going to doing great things. He straightened out and got ready to graduate in May of 2014. He was proud, but we were more proud. He was even graduating early. He was excited to get out into the world and become his own working man. He had multiple military branches reach out to him because of the discipline and dedication he showed. He was motivated to be great, and he had the confidence he needed to do great. He wanted to make his mom proud. He wanted to make his family proud. I had a conversation with his about his upcoming graduation and he said "I'm just happy I get to do it and show anyone that it is possible to graduate even with all the shit you get given these days".



Kelly, has changed and...aged, perhaps. Since the loss many people tell her "Well you have to keep going, you have another child"- they tell her this as if she doesn't already know that. They act as if that will lessen the blow that is losing a child. I say this as a mom of 5 who does not know her pain, and how I pray that I won't ever have to. She was my outgoing and very funny friend. We sat around bon fires and had glasses of wine and crude conversations that mom's have after the kids are in bed. She was the person I looked forward to seeing everyday. I have watched her change into someone who has lost part of their heart. Someone that no matter how hard she tries, she can't fill or patch the void that IS Remington. Tears fill her eyes when she speaks of him, and when a young man with the same sidestep and manner passes- her heart stops for a moment. For that moment she is found by Remington again.

  My daughter had to write a personal narrative. It was about Remington. She referred to him time and time again as a light. She talked about how the light was put out and here we all are searching for the light in pure darkness. He left this little twinkle of light that will begin to shine as time goes by- he left his son. He left behind this wonderful little being that shares his smile and mannerisms. In time we will all find the light again.

Remington and his son 2015

When he became a dad it was a highlight moment. He was beyond happy and he had really found his path. He was in his own home, working at an amazing job and getting to welcome a son. He had it all worked out and his things in order. Watching him be a dad for the time he was here was amazing. He loved his son like every mother loves their son if that makes sense. He wanted nothing more than to be the absolute very best dad he could be. He was well on his way. He was at the hospital every day that his son was there and he doted and bragged constantly about his son's progress.




I didn't meet Remington's dad's side until after he was gone. I met his grandmothers, his cousins, his siblings, and many more people. They are wonderful people. I met people who are now my family too. He was such a positive presence in each and every one of our lives. I feel like sometimes with everything everyone has been through that sometimes it gets overshadowed.

 I wish I had some funny stories to tell or a bulleted list of his likes and dislikes...but I don't. I don't even have a picture of the two of us together because we were always so focused on just having fun. We never had our phones out, we just chatted. There was never a worry or rush when we sat down to talk.

    My very last conversation with him was short and it was at the end of July. He stood on the sidewalk outside my front door and was gently pushing pine straw off the sidewalk with his foot. I asked him when he would be back and when he came back to please bring the baby. He said sure. I had just found out that I was pregnant again so the conversation turned to me. "So...another baby?" he asked, "yea, yea, yea, I know" I replied shaking my head. He smiled, "so you know I got to talk to J for a little while. I like him, he seems nice." *GASP* "Is that approval I hear Remington?" He laughed a full laugh. "Yea, I guess so. So when you have that baby you're going to have a boy right?" I smiled and rubbed my newly showing belly. "I sure hope so, but if not I'll have a girlfriend for your son!" I laughed and he cut in "or if you have a boy he can be my son's best friend!" Yes, that's what I wanted. I wanted a boy to be his son's playmate. I wallowed in the idea. "It'll be like me and Clay all over again huh?" He flashed me a sideways smile- "Oh my god, that would be something wouldn't it?" He smiled and we laughed a little more. Finally he turned to me and said "well, I got to go, you know...impatient people". I smiled and hugged him. He squeezed me so tight. When I think about it as I'm writing it I can still smell him. Tears swell and I hold them back. As he walked away that day I didn't tell him I loved him. Even though normally I never let him leave without telling him, even if that meant running down the sidewalk as he was leaving and screaming it at him through his window as he had done me so many times.

Remington 2015

   But my thoughts drift back to why. Why? The same reasons why there are no pictures. He and I both lived in our moments without a care. We both had an unspoken agreement that was living, we never said goodbye. We always said "later". Somehow, that day it just wasn't said. No "later", no wave...he just walked away and glanced back once smiling. I stood watching him walk away and for a moment I felt as if it was goodbye. Now I know that it was.

   I feel like I'm ranting when I'm supposed to be remembering but Remington evokes emotions...I read a book and the quote was "pain demands to be felt"- Remington demands to be remembered. Not him as a person, but the memory of him. The smiles, the laugh, the walk, the winks, the holding his mothers hand, the kissing his grandmothers cheeks, the playing in the water as kids, the love...
the love that was and still is Remington. The pain of the loss is demanding.

   I attended his services as did many people. I stood strong until I saw Kelly. She told me not to cry that she had to get through the service and if I cried she would lose it because she was barely able to muster the strength to stand up there. I applaud her. For the strength it must take to pull herself up, get a smile on her face, and start another day without her firstborn son. I watched her during the services and I remember specifically praying to not have a boy. I never wanted to feel as helpless as my dear friend must have felt.

Kelly and my son Remington

On September 11th 2015 I went to the doctor to find out the sex of my baby. It was a boy. The irony and happiness swept over me all at once. I cried for a solid 30 minutes on the ultrasound table. There was no question that my son would bear Remington's name. There was no way he couldn't. So in 2016 we welcomed my son and he helped to carry on his uncles namesake. Its his middle name, but many people call him Remington. One day he will get to be close to Remington's son. An they will be the best of friends. They are both all smiles and full of life. They will do great things. Hopefully Rem will gently guide them both as they stumble through life. They will fall...but they will get up smiling just as they do now.

While healing is not a fast process, it is happening...at the rate of tree sap...but it is happening. It will always be August 2015 in some ways. Reliving what we lost and what could have been over and over again. We will move forward. I hope that I have given his mom a ray of sunshine for a moment this evening. A moment to pause and remember a happier time. A moment to forget the pain and to remember a smile, a walk, a sweet cologne, the warmth of his hand in hers, his tiny body in her arms, and the feel of his lips on her cheek...even if for just a moment.

Finding Calm Amongst the Chaos

Someone suggested that my first post be an intro and the second be about myself and my life so that people get a "feel for me". A "feel for me" sounds weird. But here I am doing exactly that. I'm getting feeled up from whatever poor sap runs across my rantings.

This isn't necessarily how I had planned on starting this little shendig but its whatever. I had the white trash upbringing that most associate with Alabamians. I have a mom who came from loving Christian parents, who were loved and respected in their community. I have a dad who was raised by a single mother after she left her alcoholic husband. How they paired up is beyond me. Actually, I know...my mom was married to a lawyer who she promptly dropped to chase after the fresh new 21 year old meat she saw in the newspaper for killing a big ass deer. My dad was a single pringle in town to visit his momma because he was broke and apparently he wanted to go hunting. She nailed him, got him, and bada bing bada boom....here I am! Twenty-three years, 3 kids, multiple affairs later, he left her for his white trash co worker. I can say that not because I don't like her, but because she has no teeth and goes everywhere barefoot. She even has dentures but doesn't wear them. Who does that?
Anyway, moving on.

My childhood was happy, but filled with messed up moments. The human brain remembers pain, fear and anger better than the happy moments ( I can back this up with links if anyone needs me to). Naturally I remember the messed up stuff easier. The fact that I'm not buried under a pile of therapy in an asylum is pure luck. My dad once said he was taking us to Disney World. He drove up to the gate that surrounds the park and said "here we are". We weren't really going, he was an asshole who thought it was funny. My mom once threw stuffed animals at my dad during an domestic altercation. Yep, you read that right. Her defense was fluff stuffed teddy bears. That was the difference in my parents. My mom isn't a saint, but she's definitely the more sane. I wasn't going to go into all the gory details- but I feel like no one ever talks about those moments in their lives. I was molested by a family friend for 4 years. From 7 years old until I was 11, at 11 I finally had enough sense to say no when he told me it was time to go inside. I ran back to my grandmothers and never went back. I never let my sisters go back either. I have two sisters that will tell you I had it quite harder than they did. I took hits, beatings, and the blame for anything that would bring them harm. I'm not making myself a martyr, its just what I had to do. When you have a life like mine, its not a choice. I'm in my 30s now, and I resolved the issues I had with my mother long ago. My "father", is a whole post in itself. A dark, pissed off and hurtful post. I'll leave that there.

By the time I was 15, I was out of the house. My dad had enough of my shit. My "shit" was asking him why it depended on the Atlanta Braves winning whether I could go out with my friends or have company over. I moved out, got a very shady job at a few underground strip clubs that would hire minors. It was fun, and I made more money in one night than my parents made in a month. I came home at 17 by no other choice. I was pregnant by one very beautiful drug dealer. Every single person I knew warned me about "that boy". But when you are 15 and that boy is the calm amongst the chaos- you find solace.

At 18 I had my first child and while the said baby daddy wanted to help, my father made sure to shove his nose deeply in my business. He left and didn't pop back up until my oldest daughter was 13. But by then the damage was done, he couldn't connect, she couldn't either, and he quietly stepped back until she decides she wants him around. I give him credit for that. I loved him, and in a weird way I always will. He was my very best friend. I didn't have a relationship like that again until my current marriage. By 21 I was married to my first husband who I had 3 kids with. I feel like I was pregnant the whole time. He wasn't a bad guy, we just brought out the absolute worst in each other.
Since the apple doesn't fall far from the tree- I met someone and after 10 years, 3 kids, fights, and cheating- I left. I made the first choice in my life that was for me.
I told you...this is typical Alabama stereotype shit.

I could talk for days about my current husband. We met on Halo!! He's hella younger than me...he was 9 when I had my 1st daughter. But he's AMAZBALLS! He's the father of my son. He's a wonderful step-dad, and dad to our son. He is what I needed. For the first time since my first daughter I found a calm for my chaos. We're four years in, I don't think he'll ever grasp what my life was like before him. His life wasn't perfect; but damn it was close. Its the childhood I wanted...

As I mentioned previously, I am a mom...of 5...4 of them being little miniature assholes- they are girls. Don't get me wrong, I love them, and I love them dearly. But anyone who has EVER had a girl can tell you they are assholes in comparison to a son. My 5th child...if he was the first, he would have been my only. He's seriously the perfect kid. He's only 1 and I'm certain he'll be a jerk, but for now he is perfect.

My 15 year old is a loving-dramatic-know it all. Which is funny...because I have an 8 year old JUST LIKE HER. My 13 year old is a crybaby-sweetheart-smartass, and my 6 year old is JUST LIKE HER. So guess what? I call my oldest two "trial and error"...I had two and messed up so many times. My second set of girls are just like the older two so I'm trying to find where I went wrong! Just kidding, they are going to make excellent politicians one day! Maybe its that my girls are too much like me, or maybe I did my job too well. I have very opinionated, think for myselfers around here. An we clash- like a battle of the clans. Meanwhile, my son is like my husband...quiet and just stares at me when I start to lose it. They both offer kisses when I'm mad while my daughters and I see who can scream louder.

So here I am a 30 year old mom (I don't age past 30 people) who has 5 kids, a husband, a cat, and a blog. A blog that for some reason is keeping me sane in the middle of the night. My husband jokes that women bloat because of all the pent up shit. Maybe that's true or maybe writing out all this insane shit in my head is helping. I'm learning daily, and I fuck up constantly. That's the joy in life though, right? None of us are perfect. Well, maybe you are...but then again, here you are in my rabbit hole. Either way, I'm finding calm in my chaos.

The start of something...

So...people say I should write. I'm no one important,  just a mom that tends to be very opinionated and sometimes argumentative. But whatever. Some people call me negative, I consider myself a realist. I look at things from a logical point of view. I wish that I could look at things from a nonviolence, a pacifist, and good ole cheery mom view...but in all honesty, that's just never going to happen. I'm a half ass feminist, and I'm trying to change the world one plastic bag at a time.

 I'm not even a perfect writer. Hell, I'm probably not even a good writer. I'm doing this mainly because I have trouble falling asleep, and because I should have my own damn show by now with the crap my friends and I talk.

 I use entirely too many........and I suck at using a semi colon. I don't misspell often because I have autocorrect (who oddly enough is a pervert and still spells shit wrong). Oh yea, and I have a potty mouth.  I swear way too much, but I can watch it when needed.

This isn't a religious blog, or cooking, cleaning, mommy, crafty blog. I am 100% positive that you will come across those post eventually. An yes, I'm a jerk about things. I can't build or cook anything from scratch ( I can, but I don't really have the patience to teach folks). If that's your reason for being on my page,  you can leave now.

I suppose there won't be any particular schedule for this thing. I'll probably just rant daily about snowflakes, religion, bad ass kids, politics and things that typically intend on driving me insane.

All the things I have said about myself and anything else will be explained in future posts. I have zero problems explaining my thought process to folks. Here we are 1 single day after Christians 2nd most important holiday (Easter people...Easter) and my first post on social media was how much I hate people.

Hopefully you'll follow me down this rabbit hole of fuckery, but if you don't, that's okay too.

Damn it Karan...
Here we go...