My sons are entering what I like to call full adulthood. They are at the stage where they tackle problems on their own and let their father and me know the outcome. This is great to see, because we have all done the work to prepare them to do this and while they are relatively open with us and seek advice occasionally, more and more they’re trying to involve us less and less. It is a natural progression that is both beautiful and slightly unnerving to witness this carving of paths and shaping of lives and as their mother, I have to accept this aspect of their independence. Their father is far better at it than I am.

I check myself before I convey how I feel about them or when I want to give that boost of confidence they might need. The innate desire as their mother is to go back in time when I would hold them in my arms and tell them how special they are and how proud I am of them and end the pep talk with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek — but we’re not there anymore and those moments are what I refer to as fond foundational memories. I know they have dark moments. We all do. If you are alive you have dark days. In a world with so much failing around us, it’s impossible to avoid dark days when you feel like no matter what you have done right, everything is piling onto you. I am from the generation where we were told that we shouldn’t whine,that no load is too heavy to bear, that we had nothing to complain about and to suck it up. Today, we can go to the extreme if we are not careful and we can fail to teach our youth how to cope. Other times we can disable them by jumping in and disarming them of problems by solving it for them, parent-style. We walk a fine line as parents no matter the age of our children and we have to come up with ways to lift them up without patronizing them or disregarding their ideas and opinions.

Last week, one of my sons was working through an issue and we could tell in the initial phone call, he was upset and was making rash decisions and spoke about giving up on something he has been working so hard to achieve. He had done nothing wrong but the circumstance in which he finds himself is unfortunate and out of his control. All he could do is be his best self within the organization in the midst of the disarray and work on ways to get out and transfer to another that would be a better fit. After listening to what he had to say, we gently reminded him that over the years when we opened the door for him to quit, he never did and that he needed to give himself twenty-four hours to cool down and look at it with fresh eyes and not give in to making rash decisions.

The next day we listened to a much calmer young man who reiterated that he was not a quitter and that he was thinking with a clearer head and planned to take things patiently, day by day and continue to do his best until something better came along. We were happy to hear this but not surprised and it was then I recognized I needed to tell him something I hadn’t outrightly ever said to him or his brother in their teen years and this was the perfect time to tell him why I agreed with his plan. I simply said,

“This plan makes sense to me because of how important you are,” I began. “I hope you know that you are important, son,”

His silence indicated he was waiting for my explanation. I told him that beyond his academics, job and his sport; beyond his importance in our family and his circle of friends; he is important to society. I told him I was aware that he knows he is a good human being and I want him to remember that society, our community and any future community in which he finds himself, needs him. The world society needs humans like him. He is important for the survival of our species and our planet because he is a human who wants to do the right thing and knows how to get things done. He is a human filled with compassion and patience and he is a kind, loving and always-willing-to-help human who spreads happiness and joy. And while we are all flawed, he makes us proud parents because he is the best of us plus all the innate goodness he showed up with nineteen years ago.

I imagined what it would feel like to be told how important I was at a young age. If sometone tells me that now, I believe it because I am a parent, a provider,I provide service to clients, I am knowledgeable and I have the means to teach and to help. But when I was young and had nothing tangible to show in order for me to feel important…man, if someone explained why my mere existence and my actions made me important, hmmph, that would have lifted me up beyond the stars. We need to tell people they are important. We need to let them know that we see the role they play in life and why they are vital to our existence.We need to tell them that they don’t need material possessions or titles to be important because they are one unique and special piece of a much greater jigsaw puzzle that is life and we can’t be whole without them. We need to show them how their very presence on the planet is key to the success of many other people and that everything they are a part of would be worse without them. And while everyone is important, our young people are especially so, because they are the ones to take us into the future — a future, I might add, we have severely tarnished — a future they have to fix. We need them. We need them to cope so that they can survive. We can save their lives if we tell them how important they are…tell all of them, not just the ones who appear vulnerable. Tell them all!

You are important. You are needed. You represent change. You represent hope. You are the best of us and we are here to help however and whenever we can because you are important and the world does not work without you.

I’m Watching You.

Decided I’m ready to post some of the stuff I dabble in from time to time.


This was an interesting experiment. Got a little artsy and wrote it as it popped into my head. I just wrote it down as I “heard” myself think it.  It didn’t win or place in the contest and I did not expect it to but I did have fun going in a different direction this time. (I’ve won that contest before anyway) I write fiction sometimes but none of what I write is 100 percent made up in my head. The shit I know….the things I remember..well, they inspire me and make me trying new things. This essay is creepy and it’s not sweet or girlie or uplifting.  It is about two people, the demise of a relationship and the level we can sink to as human beings who at one time actually were able to love.  So yeah, entering it in a women’s writing contest probably was a surefire way not to win or place but hey, I can post it on my blog now. It’s mine and I enjoyed writing it. I left the breaks inserted so it would read easier…a little less confusing …can’t expect you to be in my head to hear it lol.


I’m Watching You

     I’m watching you. You’re coming down the driveway more slowly than usual in your shiny new silver Lexus – a gift to yourself with your first big pay cheque. Don’t see the kids in the car. They must be at your parents’ – again. I wonder if you’ve assumed I’m coming with you on your little work jaunt?  A jaunt you only decided to tell me about last night, Emma? And you wonder why I get angry.  You deliberately tell me about these things at the last minute knowing I won’t be able to join you. You get to go off on your own and do whatever you want with whomever you please and when you come home, it’s the same bull shit story about how I would have been bored anyway because you were tied up in meetings all weekend long. You’ve been lying for years, but for the last two, I’ve known your secret.

      I’m watching you. Sitting in the car, running your hands through your hair, sighing. You seem stressed. Stressed because I’m onto you and everything’s unraveling. The kids aren’t respectful, your work’s slipping; friendships are falling apart and you’re telling anyone who’ll listen, it’s my fault.

     I’m watching you. You look haggard, my dear.  You’re beauty has faded because inside you’re selfish and ugly.  All your lies are catching up to you and everyone is realizing the truth about you. I’m tired of the cheating and the lies and I’m sick of fighting. And those men? They can have you but before they do, I will watch you walk through a maze of misery.  I will watch you taste a fraction of the bitterness you fed me before you watch me go.


     “Hayden?  …  You here? … You coming?  Hayden, I’m heading out!”     God,I hate coming home.  Who am I kidding? This hasn’t been a home in years. It’s a prison … a hell hole.  Whatever we thought we had is dead. That’s why I cheat on you darlin…to feel alive…to feel something. And now, I have to deal with you. 

“Hayden!”  Hmm…Not here. Good.  I’ll get my bag and head out. “Oh shit!”


         Did I scare you, Em?  Didn’t expect to walk into our bedroom to the sudden blare of our wedding song, huh?  I’m watching you prop yourself against the door, gasping. Startled, honey? Well be prepared to be scared.


     What…Is that…is that glass ? “No…NO, NO, NO! Hayden!”


     Follow the broken glass, Emma. Watch your step.


     “Oh, my God!”


     Oh, it’s blood, just not mine. Oh, the convenience of living in the country.


     “Hayden! Answer me!”


     You’re following the path perfectly. I am watching you run to the stable.  You’ve haven’t taken care or ridden those horses in years. Don’t worry, they’re fine. Careful rushing in there. Might want to look up.


     “Hayden, no!”   What? WaitWhat the hell is this?  Why did he do this?  “Hayden! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?… HAYDEN!”


     Were you concerned it was me hanging from the rafters? Don’t worry. Just a couple oat bags. I’d never hurt myself , Emma.  I just want to hurt you.


     “Hayden! Asshole!  I HATE you!  Where are you?  WHERE ARE YOU?”


     I am watching you.  You’re running across the field towards me.  I can hear the snap of the twigs under your feet. Your knees buckle and you stumble. Your too short white skirt is torn; your hands and knees smeared with blood and dirt.  I can hear you breathing, panting, sobbing.  I can hear and see your fear. Your face is ghostly white. I slowly rise up from my lair in the long, wild grass, my fingers slowly brushing up the long blades as I rise to my feet, grasping you tightly. You’re screaming hysterically. Your eyes wild, lips quivering, body trembling. Our eyes meet and I recognize the second you understand what I’ve done to you. Your frail body goes limp in my arms and I lay you on the ground.  You sink deep into the long grass and as you look up at me in disbelief with your sunken eyes and drawn cheeks, I notice how tiny you are and how easily I could end you.  But I won’t in spite of all you’ve done to me, to us and our family. In this moment, I am not angry but euphoric.

“Why?” you manage to whisper.

“Because it’s my turn to hurt you,”

“You were watching me all this time?”


“You’re a sick bastard,”

“So are you.  Enjoy your trip.  Goodbye, Emma,”

You are sobbing. I turn and walk away. I feel you watching me.  It’s over between us, now. I have closure and I’m ready to start living again.


Just over a Year to Fifty: The Fun and Importance of Keeping Conversation, Kissing, Friendship and Love Alive in Marriage.

Last Sunday, we woke up to snow.  The first true day of winter came just  4 days earlier after an unseasonably warm November and December. There were high winds, blowing snow and it was damn cold.  But on Sunday, the snow was steady, coming down like heavy rain one minute, changing to a slow and gentle flow of snowflakes from the gloomy grey sky the next.   Albeit not my favorite season, I love winter days when it snows endlessly, especially if I have nowhere to go and nothing important to do.  It’s a nice alternative to the usual winter days when you have to be out in the bitter cold, shoveling your driveway and sidewalk, scraping your car and generally sitting upright and hyper alert while driving about town.  After being born and raised for twenty years in a tropical climate, I have seen twenty seven winters now; twenty nine if you count the two I spent at Syracuse University, and though I have lived abroad longer than I have in the land of my birth, I am, as calypsonian David Rudder puts it, “Trini to the bone”. I suppose you could say I have been able to embrace my adopted home and embrace it’s wintry climate by actually learning to do the fun things in winter mostly due to joining my kids and husband in snowball fights,  tobogganing , skiing, snowboarding, skating and hockey and realizing that when you make an effort to enjoy it, winter can sometimes go by before you know it.


It’s easy to stay in bed a little longer on a snowy morning, jumping out just long enough to brush your teeth so that kissing is pleasant and enjoyable.  Let’s face it, they only kiss first thing in the morning in movies.  It was one of those Sunday mornings that we have referred to as “Lazy Day” chez nous and it is how we “take Sunday back”.  Mornings like these usually start with me rolling over, bidding Tom good morning and asking him a single question that would lead to an all out, in depth discussion which would continue into our walk with our dog and a drive to our favorite coffee shop for our Sunday morning treat.  The question that morning was  “Tom, what scares you?”  to which he replied in his uber deep morning voice with the slightly oh-here-she-goes-this-is-going-to-be-a-long-one tone of voice, “Spiders and heights”.

Staring out the window at the snow, his long arm wrapped around me, we talked about why, in spite of his fear of heights he rode crazy roller coasters and parachuted out of a perfectly good airplane and how I don’t understand why a man who stands 6 feet 2 and 195 needs reams of paper towel to kill a spider the size of his index finger print.  He had no cool or concrete answer for the spider thing but as it turns out, the parachuting and crazy rides were some of the ways he faced his fears.  We chatted and segued from one topic to the next.   Unknowingly, fingers interlaced, my chin on his shoulder, we talked about the Hadron Collider, our theories about inoculation,  antibiotics and the constant evolution of the human species. Before we knew it, legs were no longer woven and we were out of the comfort of our bed, dressed and outside walking hand in hand in the snow up to the trail where we would throw the ball for the dog, pausing for a moment to take a look at and chuckle at her red toss toy that was still stuck up in the pine tree in spite of that windy Wednesday.  We chatted about how incredibly brilliant Adam is and how hard it must be for him to have to do some of the things he does because we live in a society that is filled with people mostly comfortable thinking and living inside the proverbial box. It was then we vowed again to give him the happiest life we possibly could and to make him as independent as possible without squashing who he is.  We then turned our attention to Logan and voiced how pleased were at his maturity, astute and insightful nature, in spite of his bouts of  male goofiness and periodic brain lapses that make us shake our heads.  We spoke of cave men, the first true scientists and inventors and that perhaps the development and utilization of verbal language and body language is why we have the emotion of love.  We talked about God, the abuse of religion and the irony of religious wars and how disappointing it was to occasionally discover how many people who were the pillars of their churches were actually the most corrupt human beings around.  Climbing in to the car, the conversation became about the balance of science and religion in our lives;  he, a non-worshiper continuing to maintain an open-mindedness about the possibility of the existence of a being or force such as God because there were still some things science could not explain and an existence of God, in his opinion could not be disproved.  And then there was me, someone born and raised at home and at school in the church, with a personal evolved opinion about the way I view my religion, God, science and fact.  I talked about the struggles I face navigating our life in light of what I had been taught about God, my occasional skepticism and the disappointment I feel when I come out of mass having been subjected to a “catholight” version of a sermon that often leaves me with nothing to draw from and apply to my life (I have been waiting to be moved by a sermon for about 4 years).   Yet though tried, tested and challenged in life like everyone else, I cannot and will not let go of my religion even in the times when I seem to have stronger hope than I do faith.  A sharp left turn of the wheel, I lean into him and kiss him on the cheek like I always do and he smiles as he does every time, patting me on the thigh saying “Elephant shoes” – this phrase when mimed looks like you are saying “I love you”.  That kind of moment to me. is still as wonderful as it was the first time we faced each other and said it at the end of the aisle on our wedding day, long past everyone’s view and it was silly and it was ours.

Our conversation came to a natural end when he descended into the basement to sit in front of his computer and  I headed to the kitchen table so I could stare at the snow through the glass sliding door while I jotted my thoughts on all this.  It snowed and snowed that day, stopping late at night.  It was cold  but we were toasty in our house, resting in our beds, waiting for sleep to overcome our minds and shut our bodies down before we had to welcome a new day and week.  It was a wonderful snowy Sunday and I was glad we decided to “take it back”.  To me, there is nothing more wonderful than chatting with someone you not only love to be with, but someone you actually connect with and can engage in intriguing and interesting conversations with and never grow bored of their company or what they have to say.

My marriage is not perfect; no marriage is but we are happily married (yes, I checked in with him before I typed this).  Marriage is hard work and requires a lot of time, patience, understanding, respect and devotion from both partners. It’s recognizing when you have hurt the other and apologizing and trying not to do it again.  It’s complimenting the other person randomly, lifting their spirits whether they need you to or not, holding hands, massaging shoulders, kissing, touching, making love to them and of course simply telling them you love them.  I didn’t get married to be unhappy.  I love spending time with my husband.  I love that he still reaches for and holds my hand and that we kiss… a lot.  My mother told me once that my grandmother told her in a few quite subtle words that keeping the love alive in bed is also a main ingredient when making a successful marriage and I certainly think my grandmother had given some sage advice.  There is nothing stale or outdated or wrong about honoring the body of the person you love.  Sure we all get older, change shape and size but that doesn’t mean we stop making love.  Think of all those healthy, positive endorphins!  Sex is certainly not just for the young or the promiscuous, or the unfaithful…I’m just saying…don’t let love making die.  Life is too short to ignore it and it is also too short to not say “I love you” as much as you can.

I mentioned before, I asked Tom what scared him, the snowy, conversation laden Sunday morning.  I told him I had many fears but my biggest fear which I have no real control over is, not growing old with him and not being able to do all that we would love to share together.  I want us to be here to see our sons find their niche but based on the foundation we have laid, they will (even headstrong Mr. Adam).  Beyond our children, I want to continue to grow the relationship I have with their father; to see the way we change as time goes on.  Right now, and I try to live mostly in the now, it is a wonderful privilege to have someone to listen to and who listens to me.  It’s a pleasure to take care of and be cared for by the person who promised to do so 19 years ago and it is an honour to continue that walk down the aisle hand in hand along what has become an unsteady and winding aisle of life, just as we promised we would in front of 22 of our family members and friends.

I am no expert on marriage.  I’ve gotten it wrong many times over the years.  I have frustrated him as much as he has frustrated me and of course we would.  We are two very different people from two very different families and backgrounds who have chosen to live under the same room AND raise children together.  Are there days when we both wonder if we chose not to marry? Are there days when we want to rip each other’s heads off or run around screaming in sheer frustration at the other person? Hell, yeah!  I remember this foolish couple who sat in my living room years ago among other friends who declared that they never, ever ever, EVER fought.  That they were such good friends there were never any raised voices, differences of opinion, sharp tones or words because they were buddies!  Buddies, Buddies BUDDIES! Best, best friends who never got on each other’s nerves.   Well, ran into them a few years later, a couple of kids later and it turned out that Mr. and Mrs “buddies”  were divorced and not as civil and they could be.  She was all about the kids and he drifted into a corner and disappeared and then got distracted and well … you can put the pieces together from all this.  I know I have a rather colourful personality and disposition. Passionate and impatient are a couple words that describe me.  Tom is patient and sometimes almost too patient.  He is quiet with a temper that one sees maybe once a year but it’s there.  He is strong where I am forceful and we boost and rein in each other as needed and over the years the relationship has been molded to suit each stage of our evolution as husband and wife; father and mother.  We are all aware that  some male humans have that basic animal instinct to spread as much seed as possible and some female humans have that other basic instinct that dictates the “okay I got my babies, thank you very much – off you go- to hell with you” thing going on sometimes, but we have to remember we are more evolved than that and that we certainly rise above cheating or neglecting the other partner’s need for attention and love.

I once had a conversation with another woman about being married and I told her if ever my husband and I have one of those “stinger” fights, one of the ways we mend is to remember why we got together in the first place and see if that plus all that we have built together is worth losing over whatever it is we lock horns over.  She told me (and I have heard this before from other women and men) when she got married, it was what everyone she knew was doing and so she did.  Based on this statement, do we conclude that some people are just insecure?  Are some people lemmings? ( Oh look, my friends are jumping over a cliff, so I may as well ).  Why would you marry someone you have nagging questions about in your head?  Of course you can never truly say without a doubt, this is the perfect person for me.  No one is perfect but if you don’t feel love for and from a person, why would you make such a commitment that will make you live a life trapped in misery living with a man who has become a roommate or a marriage that will only end in divorce?  Mind you, if the damn thing is dead, set each other free and end it already!  No one is doing anyone any favors  (especially the kids) by putting up with a marriage.  As a woman raising men, I say it is the responsibility of parents to raise the most respectful and honorable men we could but parents of girls must do the same.  We must raise our children to not settle or succumb to the pressure of what other people are doing.  Guys, even trophy wives loose their shine and get dusty and ladies, please don’t bring children into this world hoping to use them to make better husbands of your men.  If you are with someone you really don’t want to be with adding kids to the mix is like adding oil to fire.

With almost one year to 50, 24 years of being together and 19 years of marriage all I can say is that I get it now.  I get it when I look at my mother and listen to her now that is has been almost 10 years since my father passed away.  She did not have a perfect marriage but she had a solid one filled with happiness, support and love and respect.  I watched them put  a lot of work into it, always remembering to put my sister and me aside from time to time to care for each other.  Mom has done well considering her husband died and left her behind.  I like to think that outside of what we can do for her and give her as daughters and grandchildren, it is the love she had with Dad that keeps her going. Watching her and Dad throughout their marriage has made me realize that I have to treasure my time with Tom. I think marriage should not be something we do.  It is not just some next step.  I have no intention of encouraging my children to marry or have children.  They have to do what is right for them and they have to sort that out on their own.  If they do marry, I hope what we are showing them is a good example as my parents’ marriage was for me.  Our life has been very busy since our children were born like everyone’s but we have made it a point to make time for each other no matter how brief or to some perhaps dull and boring.  I love our long conversations, our walks and our marathon TV days and nights.  I love when we have a meal together, spend time over a coffee and when we occasionally go to the movies.  Ever the optimist, he always says “the best is yet to come” and while I am sometimes afraid of “what if one of us misses it?” I am more fired up with anticipation because I believe he’s right.  As long as we are fortunate enough to be healthy, keep the conversations alive, keep loving and  caring for each other, I think and I hope my marriage won’t end in divorce or won’t end with us living trapped in a marriage that eventually will fizzle out.  I hope (a very long time from now), like my parents, only death will do us part.

Two Years to Fifty: A Reminder from the Love of My Life about “MO”

With my husband’s consent, I am posting this to share just one of the many reasons why I am so blessed to have him by my side.  We have an extremely unique life and it has more than it’s fair share of hurdles and sometimes I can only see the hurdles and I become blind to the beauty of the simplest of things.  

In a marriage or in any relationship or friendship, each person has to bring something, sometimes ever so small yet ever so significant to the other’s life and Tom has always been able to subtly and easily remind me of how much joy a single moment, image or sound can fill our souls.  He has always maintained that his goal as a man, a father and husband was happiness for us, for his family, friends and everyone really.  It is a good goal. A solid and sensible goal that reminds me that at the end of the day happiness, contentment and love are all that really matter.  So here are my husband’s words which I appreciate more and more as I grow older with him.  It touched me, brought a tear to my eye and flooded my heart with joy and I hope you take away something good from it as well.



  Heaven help me, I’m about to get ‘deep’ on Facebook. If I were still in radio I’d probably do a ‘bit’ on how stupid that is. I’ve been watching videos on youtube tonight and honestly…I like doing that. I love the internet, and modern times. How it allows us to go get something that comes to mind, almost instantly. I can spend HOURS doing that if I’m in the right mood.

Tonight…it’s music.

I’ve spent a LONG time…a quarter century…in the music field. I’ve been on radio stations ranging from hard-rock to Christian. Yep, you read that right, and I had a great time there. And I SO appreciate that history and everyone and everything that went along with that entire journey. Which has led to a realization that I think I already had, but just couldn’t really focus on enough to present.

One of the MOST important things in life begins with the letters “MO”…and it’s not ‘money’. It’s ‘moments’. Truly great moments are what we all hang on to more than ANYTHING else.

I remember when I was 21, and sitting on a wooden bench next to Daniella when she told me she had feelings for me, and that was something I had been carefully hoping for, and working towards for MONTHS. I’m married to her to this day, love her as much as I did then, possibly more, despite the obstacles life has thrown our way and that’s fantastic…because they’re all ‘moments’.

I remember when my first son, Adam, was born. He cried and cried in the delivery room…and I walked up to him in his bassinet and quietly said “Hello Adam” and he immediately stopped crying, and opened his eyes. Even though he couldn’t see through the dark black eyes it was obvious he was searching for the voice he’d heard so many times while he was in his mother’s belly. GREAT moment.

I remember when my second son, Logan, was born, and he came out blue, and not breathing. Daniella looked at me and asked “is he all right? He’s not crying” with a panic in her voice that matched the panic in my heart that I wish NO-ONE ever experience. All I could do was be strong for her and say “let them work, he’s going to be okay”. He cried soon after and the ‘resuscitation team’ started betting on how big they thought he was. He was 10lbs 2 oz if you need to know. He is a great son…couldn’t be more proud. Some fathers of sons would say “if you have daughters, watch out for my son”…I say watch FOR my son…because he’s going to be an excellent man…the kind you HOPE your daughters find. And if he reads this, he’s going to complain to me about that…but he’ll grow into it. Another moment.

I have been SO lucky and SO blessed to have already had SO MANY moments. I hope you have too.

I love moments.

When it comes to music, my time in the field has given me a very large quantity of respect and admiration for some. Peter Gabriel is probably my favourite, but there are many others. I remember working at 1050 CHUM in my early days. I was 19. Working at an ‘oldies’ station. At first I was bored…wasn’t my thing. But the more I listened something clicked. I gained HUGE respect for these artists…because they didn’t have the crutch of digital, or even mutli-track systems that allowed them to ‘redo’ or ‘perfect’ this or that. When it came to oldies music, if the song was good, it was because the BAND was GOOD. The song you heard was the band all in a room, when someone hit the record button and said “go”. They HAD to sound like that. Listen to the Spencer Davis Group singing “I’m a Man” and tell me that isn’t some seriously good music.

So here now, is one of my favourite things that I will watch over and over again.

This…is Led Zeppelin. And this clip is FULL of moments.

I’m not even a huge fan of Zeppelin…honestly. I like their stuff, sure…but I’m not a ‘zed-head’.

But I love this. I can watch this over and over and still get caught up in the emotion of it.

Here are the surviving members of the original band…who were GIANTS of the world. Back in the day just sucking the LIFE out of life. Center stage, in front of the biggest crowds who LOVED their music. This is 40 years later. Watch the original members, how old they are, and how they still, to THIS DAY, are attached to this music. You can see it in Robert Plants eyes. You can see it in Jimmy Page’s smile. You can also see the reverence that Heart pays to them. They’re performing the hell out of this song, but even while doing that, it’s almost like they have to EARN it, and they KNOW that…and, despite their OWN success, hope to measure up to the task. And you can see the emotion of Jason Bonham, the son of the original drummer, John Bonham, as he honours his fathers work. You can see the respect of SO MANY of the biggest people we know today in this ‘moment’.

I love that. That’s how you know you’ve ‘won’ at life.

I hope you enjoy this clip as much as I do…and I hope you take the time to think of some of your moments too. We all have them. They’re great to go back to again, and again.

My apologies for how long this is, and I completely suspect you’ve either skimmed through this, or bailed out when you saw the “continue reading” part in my status…but if you’ve stuck around…hey!…another ‘moment’.


Thank you Tom for allowing me to share this as well. Thank you for your positive and easy going disposition.  Thank you for choosing to be a part of this roller coaster ride that is our life. I love you and I thank you for loving me. ~ Daniella