Stay At Home Mom

Bud Boudreaux from Bay St. Louis (left) Stripe Ed from Terracotta Hill Open Air Chapel

WordPress is going to be my only presence on Social Media, sharing my life as I live it.

I have been told to think before I speak. I am a writer, not a speaker, and remember:

“One Picture is Worth One Thousand Words.”

Dear Hubby,

I’ll take one of each. Please. And thank you. ❣👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇🥰

Dream Job? Writers Wanted! Your “voice” is unique. Use it or lose it. I am a Warrior Woman, a Write Fighter.

Family 1984-1986

No pictures, please! My Mama is the family Paparazzi
My grandfather “PaPa” singing to NiNi
Once upon a time in a house on a red dirt road…
Two of three brothers who worked all over the world. My PaPa is in this picture. “I’m the only one, ain’t I PaPa?
JB TCOB. Me cracking up. Because…Irvin Williams… Family Joke
Family Reunion 1986

Momma Hen

Our Mama/Momma at the age of 15. Thibodaux, LA. 1960. So beautiful. 🥰

I call her Mama. My sister called her Momma. This young lady’s picture tugs at my heartstrings because I know her future.

Momma Hen with shadow. 1984–her youngest daughter (my sister) at graduation in June 1984.

July 15, 1984. Her “Baby Doll” suffered traumatic brain injury. July 17, 1995. Momma’s chick died in her sleep at home. Home. The cozy nest made for her comatose child. Home. Where both were housebound because this Momma Hen cared for her child around the clock with minimal assistance.

My Mama Hen is 75 now. She is thankful that her prayer was answered and her baby died at home. I can’t imagine how she felt when she woke and went to check my sister.

Mama Hen feels like she hasn’t accomplished much in her life. I tell her I will always honor her for her dedication and devotion to my sister’s health and welfare; Momma Hen. I will share more stories about having this beautiful young lady as our Mama/Momma.

How well did she care for my sister? Eleven years and two days without bedsores. Physical therapy. Cognitive therapy. My sister could hear. Momma Hen and her chick are the inspiration for Three Blinks. Momma Hen taught her injured chick to communicate. One blink for no, two blinks for yes.

So, one day Momma Hen notices her chick is blinking three times. It’s not random, it’s deliberate. She says, “Baby, are you trying to tell me something?” My sister blinks twice for yes. Momma Hen says, “Give Momma some time to think about what you’re saying.” Later that day it comes to her. “Baby, are you telling your Momma ‘I love you?'” My sister blinks twice. “Yes.” I say that’s superb accomplishment for a Momma Hen and her brain damaged Baby.

Hello Sun, Goodbye Moon

January photos delayed posting due to illness. (Not Covid) Back out and feeling well.

Passing the baton

Eternal relay

I cannot say

Which to bet on

Each glorious

In an opposite way

Victorious

Rising and setting

Sun and moon

Both make me swoon

Two loves, no wedding