Author’s Note
First of all, every time I write the word author, it gives me so much joy!!!! I am doing it!!! Oh, and back to the reason for this Author’s Note. There, I said it again.
For my Love Note this week, I wanted to write about my sweet mama, Barbara. As I am in the middle of putting out another book, one I know she would be so proud of, I wanted this week’s Love Note to be for her.
So thank you for letting me share a little bit of my mama with you. And yes, that is exactly where my love for dressing cute each and every day came from. But most of all, she gave me words of life. She told me how wonderful I was, reminded me of what was good in me and made sure I knew she believed in me.
Don’t we all need that?
Dear Barbara,
I am not sure why I started with Dear Barbara instead of Mama, but I guess I wanted your still-living friends to see your name, and somehow that made me smile.
I wish you could be here now. I think you would be so happy to see that I am no longer driving a hoopty car. My power stays on all the time, and I have running water. I have been able to build a business and start a whole new career too. You would love it!!! I might even be able to pay you back for all those times you helped me, all those times you somehow convinced me that I was doing you a favor by letting you help me. I tried so hard to hide where I was in life back then, but every now and then one of my friends would let it slip that I had been without power or that something else had gone wrong, and somehow you always seemed to know.
You were always proud of me, even though my life had lots of detours and I was a big hot mess who could not keep up with anything. You saw something in me, and you never hesitated to tell me. You were so organized and together, and you set the standard for getting up each day and dressing adorable. You also set the example for reading and gave me a love for books. You were tenacious and resilient, and most of all, you always, and I mean always, pointed out the best in me.
You loved that I could find the good in things and in people. You loved my can-do attitude and the fact that I somehow believed there was always a way forward. You were quite the worrier, and truthfully, the world gave you plenty of reasons to worry. But you loved that I could see possibility, sometimes even in places where there did not seem to be much of it. Your friends thought you were so funny, a trait they told me you had always had. How you kept your sense of humor in the middle of all the addiction and heartache is still a mystery to me.
I wish you had been able to find recovery while you were alive from the impact addiction had on our family. But because you did not, I think it gave me some extra gumption to find a way to break the cycle. You set the standard for what a woman could do with her life, but how in the world did you work all that time, keep a spotless home and never forget a thing? I clearly did not get those genes. What I did get was the experience of unconditional love. When you looked at me, you saw promise. I am so thankful you used kind words to describe me, and when I was distraught because I was not more like you, you reminded me that you would trade places with me to have my big heart.
Before you died, you told me that I was your hero. Those words have come back to me over and over again every time I have wanted to give up. And Mama, when you died, I have always felt like somehow your spirit went right into Hugh because he took over being my forever cheerleader. He believed in me the way you did. He reminded me of what was good in me. He encouraged me, believed in my dreams and sometimes believed in me before I could completely believe in myself.
The good news is that even though both of you are gone, the words spoken over me have never died. They are still here. They continue to encourage me and propel me forward. They remind me that my life is meant for a big purpose and that I still have lots to do, and I am so thankful for that. So very thankful.
I am doing it, Mama. I am working on my final career on top of my other career. I really want to take the life I have had, all the lessons, all the heartache, all the joy, all the mistakes and all the things I have learned along the way, and hopefully help other people reframe some of the worst things in their lives and somehow use them for good.
I love you, and I am so grateful that I can still hear your words. They continue to make me want to be better, do more and love the world more deeply. I was so blessed to have a stable mama and a loving mama. I hope somehow you can see all of this from your lofty resting place.
I love you,
Karen
P.S. Give Hugh a big ole hug and let him know that, to date, I have most likely lost at least 100 pairs of sunglasses.
