Mother's Day

Life is not a fairy tale, well not completely.

There definitely are happy endings, but everything that happens to get you there isn't always magical.

Each day you are given two choices: take joy in the fact that you woke up from slumber and move forward in your path OR open your eyes regretting that your sleep was not eternal and trudge through the next 16 hours longing to be asleep once more.
Many choose the first; thankful to be given another chance to accomplish any dreams or goals they have set out to do. Even so, there are plenty of people who drift off in the second boat of discontent and uncertainty.

It's not usually on purpose. Who really plans to wake up being lethargic, apathetic, albeit depressed? But how are we suppose to make the flip? How do you go from not giving a s***, to planning for a future of promise and hope?

The answer does not lie in my thoughts, at least not anyone else's answer. From my experience, time and effort took me a long way. Time to plan happiness in my day; effort to do what I can to better my given situation...even just a visible step further towards serenity makes each new day easier to live than the one before.

I am thankful that there are people in my life who trust me with their dilemmas and let me speak into their life. I am thankful for those who allow me to share my struggles and reply with compassion and confidence. I am thankful for the friends who make me laugh so hard I can't breathe. All of these people are essential parts of my life and I would not exist without their continued support.

This being Mother's Day, I shall reflect a moment upon her...Ada Benavidez.
The mother whose memory fades further and further away as the years progress.
My mother, who for only a short time blessed me with her talents and wisdom. 
Without my mom I wouldn't know piano.
Without my mom I wouldn't love the color purple.
Without my mom I would never have the confidence in myself to do everything I have done since the day she was taken from me.
Without my mom I have become violently independent. I do not know what it is liked to be genuinely loved and cared for by another human being without doubting or questioning their motive. I became a one woman show at the age of 9 and Heaven help me if I am ever to accept a hand from anyone else.
Without my mom I worry constantly if I'm living life like I'm suppose to. What if I miss something important along the way because she wasn't here to teach me.
Without mommy I cry unexplainably and she's not here to catch my tears or pull my hair off the side of my face.
Sometimes only a mothers touch is powerful enough to heal a wounded soul.

I do treasure the life I live, do not mistake my words for misery or hopelessness, but a part of me feels empty. Sometimes I notice, most of the time I don't; sometimes I wish I could just quit and meet her tomorrow in my sleep.

But life goes on, it must go on!

Going forth to make my own happy ending,

Brittney