"It looks like Heaven!"

Recently, Hunter and I took a trip together to Maine to enjoy some ice fishing and time with my parents.

We had just started out on our trip. It was before dawn and our route suddenly became very foggy. I felt myself tense up as I navigated the Jeep through dense fog and darkness. Rather than be concerned, Hunter exclaimed, "It looks like Heaven, Mom!"

Hunter found Heaven on Earth

I found myself relax almost instantaneously from the knowledge that God spoke through Hunter, reminding me that He's at the wheel. It was one of those humbling moments. A moment when my delusion that I'm in control of anything was shattered with the reality that there is a Higher Power in charge. The only thing I'm in control of is how willing I am to lean into my faith to find my center and focus as life throws me off balance.

I'm a person who has a lot of responsibility so it's hard for me to trust blindly and not try to take charge. Not only am I a parent of two beautiful children, which is daunting in itself, I'm also a manager of a team of people responsible for helping pursuit teams close multimillion dollar opportunities. I have to keep myself focused on keeping each member of that team competitive and attentive to the demands of our customers. I pride myself on being very good at my job. But this week, I had to let two members of my team know they would no longer have a job. I felt like I had failed in my ability to keep them gainfully employed.

I know that I had little say in how the decisions were made at the top of the company. Likewise, I know that I have little say in God's plan. As Hunter showed me, I have to remember to look at the situation from a different vantage point. Some may call it naive to think that in this economy those employees will actually have better opportunities in front of them. But I have to believe that's the case.

I have to believe that in the same way I believe in that Higher Power. I take great inspiration from my son and his old soul. He's a beautiful spirit looking at the world through the fresh eyes of a child and teaching me to do the same thing whenever possible. I'm going to hold my faith in a Greater Plan closer than ever during these challenging times.

Because what I've just learned from Hunter is that sometimes, when what I see in front of me is dark and murky, someone else sees Heaven.

"Our hands are best friends."

I was walking Skye to school last week and asked her to hold my hand because it was lonely.

She had a sweet grin on her face as she took my hand and said,"Our hands are best friends." It was the most genuine, spontaneous response and one that really tugged at my heart strings. 

Skye's joyful expression mirrors my own.

It reminded me of a great lyric in one of my favorite songs, Amy Grant's She Colors My Day released in 2009. The phrase "In her skin I end and begin." articulates precisely how I feel about Skye. I am still incredulous that I have a little girl whom so many people insist looks very much like me. We share the same slope of our nose, the shape of our eyes and the curve of our smile.  I've started to respond to those observations by saying she's "the new and improved version" of me.

For both Hunter and Skye, my aspiration for them is to have a new and improved opportunity to exceed the accomplishments their mother and I have realized in our adulthood. And I know that is a common aspiration most parents have for their children. It seems that the challenges rising up to meet our children's adult worlds are greater with each generation. The fear of what those challenges may throw at our children must be tempered with the faith that they will have the fortitude to overcome them.


God has blessed Donna and me with the most thoughtful, intelligent children. Each of them demonstrate their charm, their wit, and their unique approach to what life throws at them every day. Watching their resilience and their ability to navigate through challenges is a joy that reinforces our confidence that they will successfully navigate through childhood into a happy adulthood. Hunter shared recently that a friend asked him how he could have two moms as parents. Her tone implied that she knew the science behind how a child is conceived and wanted to know whether he knew who his father was. His quick response back to her was, "End of conversation." He didn't miss a beat and showed how quickly he could establish firm boundaries with friends. He also demonstrated how confident he is and comfortable with his family. I was so proud of how he handled that situation.

This example is one reminder of how often I forget to appreciate my children's own independence and person hood and get caught up in the desire to protect them from anything uncomfortable or bad. Sometimes, I'm able to step out of that protective mode to let them experience life as it comes so they can learn from the lessons that broken hearts, hurt feelings and perceived injustices teach.

After all, it's those experiences that teach the most important lessons.

So, when other situations arise in their lives and we're not within earshot, I know they will be able to pick themselves up and dust themselves off and come home to share their pain with us. And as they relate their stories, they will know that we will hold their hands and provide a safe place for them to heal and learn from their experiences.

Thankfully, Skye already realizes that our hands are best friends, and best friends last forever.

"Now, our family is back together."

 O Happy Day! My wife is home. She was gone for nearly two weeks and the kids and I did well overall, but boy are we glad to have her back.

Donna was in Trinidad with her parents and her brother, preparing for her Dad's 80th birthday celebration. It was an important time for her and her family, both the part she has here and the part she has in Trinidad. It was a critical lesson in parenting, too. Our children, especially Hunter, were not happy to stay behind. Hunter insisted that his middle name was "Party" and that not being there was counter-intuitive if Donna wanted to make sure the party was sufficiently entertaining. Skye seemed to take things in stride, but was shocked that Donna did not plan on going to the beach when she was there. The lesson for the children was that school is important and they can't skip nearly two weeks of classes, regardless of how much we wanted to go as a family.

When I dropped Donna off at the airport, the children were a mess. I expected the tears from Hunter, but I was shocked at Skye's reaction; because apart from being very happy-go-lucky, she tends to be rather stoic when it comes to expressing sadness or hurt feelings. However, as soon as Donna walked through security to leave, she joined Hunter and began sobbing into a melt-down I wasn't prepared for.

Fortunately, I was able to make my way out of the airport without being stopped for ID, as both children were crying for Mommy. I thought to myself, some well-meaning stranger is going to stop me and ask for my relationship to these children.

So, as we fast-forward nearly two weeks,  it was precious to witness our reunion in the school yard. As she clung to both Donna and myself, Skye whispered in my ear, "Our family is back together again."

Later, as Skye sat on my lap, she told me, "When Mommy was gone, the puzzle broke. Now that she's home the piece is back and the puzzle is back together." I think that's a perfect metaphor for family's in similar situations. What I love most about that metaphor is the unity of the family, but recognition that the family is made up of its individual pieces. When one of the pieces is missing, the family is not the same.

I know that the children's reactions to her absence and joy at our reunion took Donna by surprise. I don't think we understand individually the importance each of us brings to the table until it's gone. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder and helps us develop a conscious appreciation for the merits each one of us brings to our family. A small example was my valiant efforts at cooking Donna's french toast  or eggs and bacon like Mommy does rather than fall back on my cereal menu during our morning routine. Believe me, Donna's breakfasts are much better.

A week has passed since our reunion and Skye still talks about how much she loves and missed Donna. Now, as I prepare to leave with Hunter for a long weekend, I jokingly hope that Skye's psyche is not irreparably damaged by another separation.

What this experience has left me with is an unshakable belief that Donna and I are doing something right if our children are that affected by our absence. What a fantastic blessing we enjoy!

"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine."

Skye loves to sing. She loves music and she loves to perform, except when she's on a real stage, upon which she'll freeze into a petrified little girl. That's a juxtaposition for Skye, because at home and in class, she's a ham. She'll strike a pose vogue-style as soon as she sees a camera come out of its case. And, she'll put on shows in the living room at the drop of a hat. Her imagination is phenomenal and if the world is a stage, then she's got the starring role.

Lately, she's been singing "This Little Light of Mine."  I love that song for so many reasons. The first of which is that using light as a metaphor for life is perfect. The love emanating from our spirits casts out darkness, a metaphor for evil. So, I'll always believe that there will be more light than darkness in this world.

The second reason that I love that song is that all of us have a light that is unique. When all of us bring our light to bear, the world it lit up with brilliant rainbows. As I  think about what makes me unique, I'm not sure I can answer it succinctly. Everyone has a myriad of gifts and talents that together make us special. For example, I'm a left-handed, lesbian mother and writer born and raised in the great State of Maine who has a penchant for  Anne Murray's music, a love for all things Caribbean (especially my wife) and an endless curiosity about the spiritual bond that connects us all. Even that definition leaves out a lot that others may throw into descriptions of me.

Finally, This Little Light of Mine, written by Harry Dixon Loes (1895-1965) in about 1920 is often thought of as a Negro spiritual. It does not, however, appear in any collection of jubilee or plantation songs from the nineteenth century. Under the influence of Zilphia Horton, Fannie Lou Hamer and others it eventually became a Civil Rights anthem in the 1950s and 1960s. And for that reason, I associate it with the courage and bravery of the men and women who marched for our civil rights and sacrificed a great deal of themselves to bring us to this point in our history.

As we turn our calendars to February and celebrate Black History Month, I am grateful to everyone who helped us evolve into a more diverse and brilliant community. We still have a long journey ahead of us, but at least we're closer to Dr. King's vision of having people judged for the content of our character, versus the color of our skin.

I hope that thinking continues to infuse the Gay Rights Movement as we still struggle to attain the same rights as our heterosexual friends. So, as Skye sings about her light and I celebrate mine, I hope we all find ways to bring our light into the world and together paint a spectacular rainbow that never ends.