Lonely Onlies

Can I scream now???

I hate to be insulted. I hate it when people threaten.

A donor just told me that she will not donate unless we put 50% of every donation toward birth control. She didn't merely say to put some donations toward it, but an exact amount.

Then she explained how people should only have one child, how she only had one child, and how she was able to feed and educate that one child because she was so responsible.

I held my tongue. I didn't tell her that I have five children thus I must be the extremely irresponsible devil incarnate.

I didn't tell her that I'm not Catholic when she kept saying, "I'm Catholic" as if I should agree with her because she's Catholic. Rather she probably thought I should disagree with her because I'm Catholic.

Why do people "assume"? I don't call strangers and speak about religion. I don't assign a religion to them and insult them because of their made-up religion.

Even if I wanted to change my organization's policy about birth control (we take a non-stance on this issue because it is so volatile and could affect donations adversely whichever stance we chose), I don't have the power.

I was nice and took her call after I was officially off work.

I did not appreciate the lecture but I was very nice and polite like all good little customer service representatives are trained to be.

I am still human, however. If you can read shorthand, you could read exactly how lovely I feel and how much I enjoyed speaking to this lovely, lovely person.

As per my thoughts on birth control, I am an only child. Another term for this is "lonely only".

My family had enough money to send me to college, but they chose not to. I worked and paid for my own education, all the way up to a Master's degree.

I don't begrudge paying for my own education. I probably value it much more than many people who got a free ride.

I do, however, miss having a sibling or two. I used to beg my mom for a brother or sister. I would have given away a free college education for one.

I'd still love to have a brother or sister. When my mother died, I felt so very alone. I so badly wanted a sibling to share this with, to walk into the future with.

I'm almost fifty so I will never have one.

I think a brother and/or sister is a very important person to have in one's life. Although my children occasionally fight, they love one another. They miss one another when they're separated. The older they get, the more they value one another.

Thus I do not see what is wrong with families who have two or three children - or more. I think families, especially big families, are wonderful.

You'll also want to see what Amarinda Jones, Anika Hamilton, Anny Cook, Barbara Huffert, Brynn Paulin, Bronwyn Green, Dakota Rebel, Kelly Kirch, Molly Daniels, Sandra Cox, Regina Carlysle, and Cindy Spencer Pape are up to, so make sure to visit them also. :)

My Mother

I know Father's Day is this Sunday June 22nd and most people are thinking of their fathers at this time of year. However, my mother died 21 years ago today.

I try to forget what day this is. Usually, I'm teary-eyed on and off every June 18th. Sometimes I break down and cry. So far, so good. As I was writing the date this morning, realization struck that this is the anniversary of Mom's death. I didn't have any written reminders but it's embellished in my mind. I miss her so very much. I was her only child and so she doted on me. I was spoiled. My grandfather said so. And my cousin. I didn't appreciate her enough while she was here. We often argued. We didn't see eye to eye. But I always loved her. A lot of time has passed since she left us. I've had two more children that she will never meet. She has a grand-daughter-in-law and two great-grandchildren. Several more cousins have been added to the family tree. I earned my MBA and have had several books published which she'll never know about. Or will she? It often feels as if she's my guardian angel and that she is watching over me. I feel her presence, her gaze looking down upon me from heaven. Oh dear, the sting of tears is pricking the back of my eyes. I want to celebrate her life and starting next year, we'll throw a party every June 18th. I think she'd like a party in her honor. Maybe we'll barbecue. A young man in my office recently told us that he wants everyone to grill hotdogs and have a party when he dies. He wants a happy send off and he wants people to celebrate his life, not mourn it. I'm tired of the tears. I want to remember all the good things about my mother. She loved to watch John Wayne movies. She loved to read books, especially historicals. She loved to sew. She made my wedding gown and many of my clothes as I was growing up. She worked in alterations, tailoring, and bridal all her life. She was very good to her ill parents. She loved to bowl. She got me hooked on General Hospital. She liked to travel. She fell in love with California when she traveled there for my wedding. She spent her last days there. I love my dad, my uncle, my husband, and my oldest son who are all fathers, too. Since Father's Day is around the corner, I also want to wish them and all the dads everywhere a very happy Father's Day. But my thoughts today, are with my mother. Ashley http://www.ashleyladd.blogspot.com/

Tribute to my mother

Twenty years ago yesterday, my mom died.

She was only 58. Much too young.

She had cancer. She suffered far too much.

I was her only child. I miss her like hell.

I mentioned several things I love and remember about my dad the other day. Now it's my mom's turn.

My mom loved to sew, crochet, knit, embroider, and do crafts. All her life, she worked in some type of sewing including alterations, bridal, and tailoring. She made a lot of my clothes. She tried to teach me to sew, but unfortunately, it wasn't my forte.

She loved John Wayne movies. She watched them all the time and this was before the days of videos and DVDs.

She also loved musicals with Howard Keel, Doris Day, Gordon MacRae, Gene Kelly, Judy Garland, etc.

She got me hooked on General Hospital (yep, the soap). Back when Nurse Audrey was hiding her son from Doctor Steve and everybody. Before Robert Scorpio, Anna Devane, Frisco and Felicia, or even Luke and Laura.

She was a meat eater. She'd eat weird things like hearts, kidneys, and other strange cuts I won't go near.

She liked to bowl. One time, she joined a team and bowled with Cincinnati's Marge Schott (if you're from Cincinnati, you'll have heard of her).

She took me bowling a lot, and to the movies. She doted on me, her only child.

She was a beautiful blonde with gray-blue eyes. But she admired her older sister's beautiful red hair, like their dad's, and she'd wished I'd be a red-head. Instead, I looked like my mom. Then Mom wished that my children would inherit the family's red hair. None of them have. Sorry Mom. But I think her grandkids are perfect the way they are. :)

When I was in college, she helped me with my homework by finding news articles and sending them to me. Even from California when we lived in Mississippi.

At about age 50, she returned to college to learn hotel/restaurant management. She worked parttime at various hotel desks while taking college classes.

When my family moved, she moved to be near us. When we got married, she made my wedding dress with beautiful beadwork on the bodice. Then she flew out to California and put my wedding together. While there, she fell in love with California (Northern) and decided to stay. She bought property and made a home with my stepfather.

Then she was diagnosed with cancer. Not just any cancer, but bone cancer, one of the worst kinds. Perhaps the worst. She was given two years to live. She called us all the time. She sent notes to each of my three children every single week.

She won a pair of plane tickets from a radio station and she used them to visit us for a couple weeks. We were still stationed in Mississippi with the Air Force and I was still attending USM. It was a bittersweet two weeks.

She was planning on visiting again and perhaps staying a couple months. She seemed to be doing well under the circumstances. But when I got home from the boys' T-Ball game one fateful Monday afternoon in June, we had a phone message that she was very ill. I called straight away. But it was too late. She'd stopped breathing and had a no resuscitation order. I couldn't breathe. I was crushed.

We fought a lot, especially for the year she lived with us. DH says it's because we're too much alike (he also says I fight a lot with D#1 because we're also too much alike.) But I still miss her like crazy.

Every year on the anniversay of her death, it haunts me. I don't try to remember the day, but most years, when I glance at the date, it floods back anyway.


On another note, my publisher Total-e-Bound has updated their site and in honor of their first year anniversary, they've posted several FREE reads on their site. Yep, totally free. No catch. You don't have to order or do anything else to get them. Just go to the site and get them at: Total-e-Bound

I have four FREE short stories at Total-e-Bound: Sticky Wicket, The Naughty Secretary, A Sex God, and Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

There are several other free short stories, also, in addition to mine.

Go ahead. Enjoy!