A poem for you.

I took a detour

On my way to you…

I stopped along the outskirts

Of the woods you used to own,

And picked a couple handfuls

Of the wildflowers that we thought once, ours…

***

It breaks my heart a little

To pluck these beauties

From the earth,

But I can’t stop myself…

They’re more to me

Than a vase full of apologies…

They scream,

“I won’t forget you!”

I couldn’t.

***

And now – As much as it pains me

To separate them from the ground…

My heart tells me

That they no longer belong to this fertile soil.

***

You, Wildflower,

Are soon to be taken from this earth…

With so many lives

Lived in those

Vibrant yellow petals.

You will forever be remembered as

Growing tall,

Wherever the winds carried you.

***

Free…

Beautiful…

Loved…

Wild…

That’s how I’ll forever see you.

***

 

 

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Failing never felt so right.

So, my husband is Anti-Valentine’s Day…you guys already know that. I try to pretend like I’m above the hooplah, but y’all know I’m just kidding myself, right? I LOVE Valentine’s Day…unless my husband is on strike that year – Then I hate it, lol:) We shall see what the verdict is this year on February 15th! Anyhoo…That’s not really what this post is about. V-Day inspired my thought process – But it’s really just about how long I’ve been devoted to Michael Gene Moore II.

Michael and I started dating the summer of my sophomore year in high school. I was 16…and it didn’t take me long to fall in love with him. All I wanted was to be with Michael Moore. We didn’t go to the same high school and really, it worked for us. He could be friends with girls and I could be friends with boys – No drama. One of my favorite things to do was watch him play football under the Friday night lights. Rain or shine – Cold or hot…I was in the stands with his family, cheering on number 22.

Our senior year, I got the opportunity to go to his championship game in New Orleans. My mom told me that I could miss school as long as I was able to make up my work. Well, all of my teachers, except for my English one, allowed me to do just that…SO – I chose to take my failing grades rather than miss my honey’s game that year. I never told my mom that I chose F’s over missing a football game…sorry, Momma! 🙂 I feel better now – The truth shall set you free! lol… I never really understood why that teacher wouldn’t allow me to make up two day’s worth of work.

What I do know is that it matters more right now that I chose to support Michael while he was accomplishing something extremely important to him. This same teacher always wrote a letter to her class at the end of each year, making predictions for her students futures. My prediction had something to do with my loving Michael. At the time, it felt like an insult. She didn’t see anything academically significant in me – She only saw my high school sweetheart as my future.

Guys, she was so right. All I’ve ever really wanted was to be by Michael Moore’s side. My dream was to marry him and have his babies and just love him every single day of my life on this earth. So far, God has answered all of my prayers…He’s given me the most of everything with the man that I simply adore. What I thought was an insult, was actually a blessing. Having the love of a man like Michael is future enough for me. And I will always choose a failing grade in exchange for more time with my number 22!

Love you my Michael!

XOXO, Beck

The moment I first loved you.

I could see the outline of you…

Light surrounding your body from the busy streets.

My eyes had to adjust to the dark

As we rode home in the backseat of your parent’s car.

If you could’ve heard what was going on in my head…

You would’ve most assuredly run scared.

‘Cause when you took your state champ ring off your finger,

And slid it playfully on my left ring one… 

That’s when my forever started with you.

That’s when my heart came undone.

***

The moment I first loved you,

It was dark and full of light…

It was bold and completely silent… 

I didn’t know if you’d ever feel the same,

But you did…

You gave me your heart,

A ring…

And your name.

***

I love you, my Michael Moore…Happy Anniversary.

XOXO, Yours.

Normal is relative.

“Wind!

         Thunder!

                      Rain!” 

Picture three young LePoint kiddos, in the woods, waiting for the storm. The air smells just right, no adult within viewing distance…The trees are dancing to the rhythm of the wind – The obedient wind to which my siblings have recently called upon. Bruce and Rae are collectively making their demands to sister nature, and then there’s me…The Realist – AKA, stick in the mud. My mood is a mixologist – It combines elements, evidently…Always the complicated one.

“That is not going to work.” 

What happened next would have surely converted a less stubborn unbeliever. After team Captain America called on the thunder, the sky actually growled! They then pointedly looked in my direction, on the outskirts of the action, like I was an alien that just recently landed on planet LePoint. I simply shrugged my shoulders and trekked back to the house, making a beeline straight for my room…probably to meditate on the wonders of nature and coincidence.

I love that I grew up in the woods with my crazy brother and sister. The older I get, the more my childhood memories seem to be colored in shades of gratitude and appreciation. I’m also thankful for the fact that we had no neighbors to retreat to…that I only had two other weirdos to contend with on a daily basis. And when I got older, I was smart enough to make friends with more weirdos that would fit RIGHT in with us (Melissa)… They made me look normal. This is actually a PERFECT example of relativity…

***

Becky was a “normal” child.

Becky is an “abnormal” adult.

Becky has not changed much.

***

I just cracked myself up with this case and point. 🙂

I’m certain that if “town” were my childhood stomping ground, that I would cherish the memories just as much. It’s the people that make this journey so much fun…so oddly beautiful.

Sometimes…I secretly look to the clouded sky and whisper into the vast unseen,

“Wind!

         Thunder!

                     Rain!”

…and I smile. Perhaps time will make a believer out of me, yet.

XOXO, Beck

I’m too much like me.

I’ve been chewing on a thought recently…I have yet to pinpoint the exact subject matter, though. I think if I just keep typing it’ll work itself out…We’ll see about that, huh! So…this goes back – WAY back. See me as a young preteen. I’m in church…singing, trying to pretend that I’m listening to the preacher, planning my next move – Lunch. The clock finally strikes noon and Sunday morning service begins to wrap up – Sing again…Pray…Dismiss…Confrontation.

Yes, confrontation. Normally I am the confronter, not the confronted – It’s just factual. A suspect friend stops me before I make my long awaited exit. We’re face to face, she looks me directly in the eyes and states, “I don’t like you.” Um, hello…We are NOT Catholic, keep your confession between you and the Lord. I do not absolve you. I automatically inquire, “Why?” Do you want to know what she said to me? I’m gonna tell you…”You’re too outgoing.”

Yes, too outgoing. I can pinpoint that incident in my life as my first “Aha” moment. Up to that point, I had no reason to think that someone wouldn’t like me – Wouldn’t LOVE me. I thought that everyone saw me through the same blue-rimmed glasses that I viewed myself through – Funny…Artistic…Kind…Quirky…Outgoing. When I replay that memory in my mind, I can’t help but feel gratitude for that person and her honesty. I mean, she honestly didn’t need to tell me that, BUT…it taught me a few huge life lessons.

The lesson was that we all see good differently. The lesson was that everyone will not like me. The lesson was that I don’t have to change who I am to please someone else. The lesson was that I should take the time to view myself through a different set of lenses. The lesson was that the truth will confront you when you’re trying to make an exit. I saw my outgoing nature as a positive aspect of my personality – This person did not.

It’s taken me a really long time accept that I am not everyone’s cup of tea…or coffee;) If I was confronted with the same situation today, I think the conversation would go something like this…”Becky, I don’t like you.” Laughing on the inside at the absurdity of a grown woman making this obscure proclamation, I would reply, “Me either. I’m a real tool sometimes.” The lesson is that you gotta be honest with yourself or the honesty of others will astound you. Be the first to astound yourself…Or something like that. 🙂

Here’s a poem I recently penned…

***

Your clouded view of me
Can’t stifle my shine.
When I see my reflection
In your glossy words,
I see this woman…
This woman with my eyes,
My figure, my hair…
But I don’t recognize her.
It took me a minute,
But I’ve figured out why…
It’s the same soul that
We don’t share.

***

You simply view me differently.

I have yet to determine if

That’s bad or good, necessarily.

I don’t know why I care,

But I do.

Hopefully not so much

That I lose sight of the real me…

I happen to like my sunny

Disposition, you see.

***

Your clouded view of me
Can’t stifle my shine.
When I see my reflection
In your glossy words,
I see this woman…
This woman with my eyes,
My figure, my hair…
But I don’t recognize her.
It took me a minute,
But I’ve figured out why…
It’s the same soul that
We don’t share.

***

One of these days

I’ll learn to accept

That every heart crossing my path

Will not connect with

Or embrace me in a positive way.

I hope to stay open to change…

To growth…

And still remain,

True to me.

I hope to stay strong and

Not bend too easily.

***

Michael Moore. The solution to my problem.

I feel like my life revolves around the final school bell. This seat must have some kind of magnetic pull on my butt, otherwise I would have bolted by now. School is not my favorite. It’s ESPECIALLY not been my favorite since I became this dumped version of myself. I do have to admit, though – recently things are getting better. It’s taken a while, but I’m finally starting to feel more like myself. The pre-dumped Becky was so much cooler than this post-dumped one. 

I’ve been talking to this guy named Jeff. I’m certain that it isn’t love or anything close to it – but he makes me laugh, and that’s something. This past week of talking on the phone every night and just laughing and becoming friends has been amazing. I’ve actually forgotten how nice it is to just have a conversation with a guy…no arguments – no self-loathing – no jealousy. I just like him.

When the bell finally sounds, my seat releases it’s hold on me and I bolt to the parking lot with the rest of my classmates. We have been with each other all day, naturally we would hang out some more – either in the parking lot or at the local gas station. I actually never hang out at the gas station. I don’t find Jeff right away, so I scan the parking lot. It’s a gorgeous day, but that bright orb in the sky does wonders to this face with no shades. Jeff probably won’t recognize this squinty-eyed me. Ha! Amazingly, he does. Before I can get to my brother, Bruce’s worn out convertible, an oldie but oldie, Jeff waves me over. Being the sophomore that I am, I do the quick step to his car. He’s a junior AND pretty tall, so it takes more energy to make a move for him than it does for average ol’ me. I begin the longest, short stroll ever to his ride… 

Jeff had let me know earlier today that he wanted to ask me a question after school. All day I’ve imagined how he’d ask me to be his girl…I mean, there aren’t THAT many ways to ask, I suppose. But there was no doubt that he was going to ask. Who calls a girl EVERY night and doesn’t want to be her boyfriend? 

 I finally make it to his car. Let the awkwardness begin. Squinting and smiling I look up at him, “Hey.”

His friends are around, so I nod and smile to them, as well. They are far too interested in our conversation. He looks down at me and gets to the point, “Do you want to go to prom?”

Wow. I’m about to confirm all of their suspicions. The LePoints really ARE Puritans. “I’m so sorry, Jeff…I can’t go to dances – but we can still hang out, right?”

“No, that’s ok. See ya later.”

Dismissed. I’ve been dismissed. I’m not going to cry. I will not shed a tear for this jerk-face. Trying to walk fast and slow at the same time, looking like the weirdo that he just confirmed that I am, I finally make it to the car. One look and my brother knows something’s not right with me. I just stare at the floorboard and shake my head. Let’s get the h-e-double hockey sticks outta here, man. He reads my mind and we’re on the move. This car is a real piece, but I will admit that with the top down – it’s kind of nice. Once off school property, I told Bruce the shorter version of my short story.

“Beck, you should date Michael. He’s always liked you.” That’s it? These are his words of consolation? Michael Moore is his solution? Well, we’ll have to see about that. For now, I’ll just enjoy the wind in my hair and my favorite guy behind the wheel. 

***

My brother started the ball rolling on my future with that advice. How wonderful and mysterious is the gift of looking backwards into our lives? It’s really an amazing thing that we have access to. Peering into my past now… I’m so thankful to have had “Puritan” parents. Obviously, Jeff wasn’t motivated to take me to the prom to simply laugh and get to know my fabulous, post-dumped self. The Puritan’s rules – that I thought were so ridiculous – were probably what saved me from another unnecessary heartache.

I believe with all of my heart that Michael and I would have ended up together at some point in our lives, if not then. What’s meant to be, really will be…Sometimes we make choices that take us down the longer, scenic route instead of the the shorter, more eco-friendly one…And I will admit, sometimes a little scenery and time is a beautiful and necessary thing…But with Michael Moore? More time with him is all I have ever wanted. I’m thankful for our journey. I’m thankful that it started earlier rather than later.

I love you my Michael.

XXXX, Beck

*Names may or may not have been changed in order to protect the guilty/innocent. In other words, Jeff isn’t his name. 😉

Dear Donald…

Our D.B. passed away last night…The people that I work with are my best friends – They are both my blood and chosen family. My heart hurts when I think about the man that I’ll never get to work with again…But I am positive that one day I’ll see him again in eternity. This is my letter to him tonight – I’d like to believe that God will deliver it to him…

Dear Donald,

You were one of the few people in my life that made me feel special anytime that I was in your presence. You learned what was important to me…You noticed the little things. You told me that I was good at my job – good at my hobbies – beautiful…Important. Truth be told, YOU were the special one – YOU were the one that was good at everything you touched. Your innate goodness spread to everyone in your life. You were always the silver-lining to my day at work – There will forever be an void at Morehead Pools without you. I will forever miss you, my sweet friend…Thank you for seeing the best in me. Thank you for telling me everyday that I was special to you. Thank you for showing us how to work as unto the Lord – That no matter what job we have…It deserves our best. Thanks for being D.B… The best Donald Brown I’ll ever know.

Love, Beck