In the days and weeks after leaving corporate America I found myself completely addicted to my cell phone.

Truth be told it was an addiction that had begun years prior. Though I would have readily denied it if asked.

Very much like caffeine, the storehouse of information~emails, texts and schedule that was housed on my phone was alluring, available and addicting. And became a necessary vice to get me through the day.

After retiring (read Fussy, Diamond, Ms. Capricorn and an entire tribe of yogis~ to learn a bit more about how life flip its flop last year) there truly was no need to check emails, for rarely was there anything important coming in. Internet…at the time, only served to bombard my mind with political rederick. And my once hectic daily schedule had been stripped down so much that I could remember it all without all the little dings to remind…yoga at 9:00 followed by whatever the heck I wanted to do. Lunch meetings, afternoon outings, drinks, after friends got off work, were no longer a problem to keep up with.

Text and phone calls…that was pretty much it. Yet in those first few weeks I still found myself checking my phone. OFTEN!

Vices, by their very nature, are awfully difficult to break away from.

Now, almost a year later, I can and often will go hours without checking my phone or even having it by my side. I know I know, heaven forbid.

Caffine…                                                                                                                                    ummm…                                                                                                                                        weeellll…                                                                                                                                             okay not so much…

One vice at a time folks, one vice at a time.

Hush now and allow me to get back to the story at hand.

Now, almost a year later…and going hours without checking-in to the real world I’ll often pick up my phone and find it bombarded with text. An ongoing group text with my siblings, their spouses, my mom and her husband…typically being the culprit.

Throughout the day we send silly, funny, stupid stuff~ rarely anything of substance. It’s become one of the ways we stay connected while being spread out across the country. These text, mimic our in person interactions, jovial, sarcastic, fun, loving and endearing. Often by the time I am seeing or take time to respond the subject matter has squirreled so many times that responding the original text has become irrelevant.

As was the case yesterday. Expect yesterdays series of text sent were tender and full of substance…

My brother, brilliant with words as well as emotions (thankfully so, as both gifts, serve him well in his life’s calling of compassion, care and service to others) had written a beautiful text to our mother. Writing that she “was, is and perhaps will always be the North Star by which I judge myself”. Taking a moment from the painting I was working on, responded  ‘well said’  with the intent of writing more when time presented itself. However by the time I came back to the text the subject was off momma and on to a series of silly photos my brother and his family had taken the evening before at a party. (y’all see a trend here right??? It was, is and perhaps will always be all about Uncle Sloth…what we affectionately call my brother…but I digress)

Now I appreciate, understand and love how and why my brother compared our mom to such…for she is without prejudice, beautiful, self-assured, wise, loving and enduring. However, this is not how I would describe her.

Our, my moms and my, relationship is quite different from hers and my brothers. As is the case with every relationship. Often, when growing up, I found myself in a power struggle with her, mainly due to the simple fact that I allowed my mom’s very wise and ever-present logical voice to be the voice I heard loudest in my head. And her’s was, is and perhaps will always be a very different voice than my own. Thus causing our two opposing forces into a struggle.

Now folks, mom may or may not agree with the assessment I have of our early relationship just as she may or may not agree that she was, is and perhaps will always be the North Star to my brother. And that okay, for, unequivocally, I know, he knows as we all do…that her love for us was, is and perhaps will always be beyond measure!


Now, as an adult, hers is no longer the voice I hear loudest in my head…however it was, is and perhaps will always be one that I access. And access often!  Nor is she the North Star by which I judge myself.


No, if I were to compare my mom to anything, it would be the solid, resolute, trusted foundation on which my life has been firmly built. It is a foundation created with a great deal of love, faith, hope, joy, and wisdom and has the ability, strength and resolve to weather any and all of life’s storms. And is the foundation on which I stand firmly and proudly upon.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom

As it was, is and WILL always be…

I love you!!!