Inside My Head

      Is my Daddy. Yes, I was able to get to know him, not by much though. He was a wonderful Daddy to me. I was his little girl. As sick as he was, he always made sure we did things together. It didn't matter what we were doing, we had fun together. He could make games out of anything! We would go pick up my mom from work, and we would take the car keys and play checkers with the floor tiles! Daddy was a War Vet. A WWII Vet to be exact. I wish I had more time than 7 years to know him. I would have loved to have been able to ask him questions about the War. To ask questions about what he did, what he saw and where he went. I know a little bit about it. Stories my mom would tell me, but it's not the same as talking to the person who actually lived it. If you are lucky enough to have a WWII vet in your life, talk to them. Ask them questions. Write them down. Better yet, record what they are saying. Once the person is gone, that's it. They are such a special generation

The kids and I were playing the other day, when my 3 year old said, "Mommy, you are broken." I don't remember what we were playing, but those words have stuck with me since then. I realized, he's right. For MONTHS, yes MONTHS I just stopped going to church. Just STOPPED. I didn't want to. My 7 year old daughter did, and every Sunday she would ask me if we were going, and I would say no. So, she just got to the point where she would stop asking. Granted, I did have tests to study for, and take. So why didn't I want to go to church? I still don't know exactly, but I just didn't WANT to. At. ALL. If I did end up going, it was only for Abbie. Not for me. I wanted to make her happy, and I knew how much going meant to her. It didn't mean anything to me, I was just THERE. I felt invisible. Here I am surrounded by a lot of people, and yet I felt like I was the only one there. I hate feeling like that. So, I am trying this agian. I am making an effort to ge