Day 1555 My heart broke but it was about time

28 05 2017

Hello world is it me you’re looking for. Yes Lionel Richie on this Sunday because he was cool and I bond with him.  I have no thing more cool to say so on to the blog.

Have you ever seen or heard of a levee or damn that was about to break or needed to. Yes they need to break  because the only way to fix something is to watch it break open not  patch it. When it breaks open the destruction of many attempted patches and piece mealing is bad but it’s a necessary evil.  it may take years but eventually all things need to be released and new built.

It the past 2.5 years I’ve had 13 people die either who I ministered to, were an important part of my life or the worst one was my mom.  I also lost a relationship that I thought was going to be a marriage, and a few other things I’ll leave alone. You can get pretty jaded to the world and numb. Grief affects everyone differently. It could take years, to start the process, it could start immediately but first and foremost its going to happen. Nobody knows how to deal with their own grief much less yours. So they say something cliché because they are at a loss for words. The intentions are the best but they say they understand even when that can’t. So most people going through grief smile, say thank you and then live in their own personal internal hell when nobody else is around. Men are raised to be tough, hide your emotions, nose to the grind stone even when you know better you still try to be tough. For me I hate others to hurt, I would do anything to take away someone else’s pain even disguise mine like I am okay. Well…..

3 weeks ago after essentially 2.5 of years of pretending to be okay, numb, zombie like some days, angry others that I couldn’t save people or that how dare God take my mom. I smiled but didn’t feel the smile. Some days I hurt like a pain that wouldn’t go away, I would sit in the quite of my house and watch the ceiling fan spin with nothing in my mind, and other times 1000 thoughts every 30 seconds. People would ask, How are you? I would give I’m good, Im fine. What I wanted was someone to hold me, take a high-powered vacuum and suck my heart dry so I could start over but they don’t make that vacuum. I would talk to God, feel good some days others not so much. I would ask him to let me feel again. I know healing and grief is a process no matter how big or small the issue.

So 3 weeks ago I was mowing the yard, listening to music and I was like my God what is going on. I promise I was so weak I let go of the mower and hit my knees but not on purpose. My broken heart, for all the pain of life that either I tried to grieve or hadn’t,poured out on my lawn. I sat down on my butt and cried,  those tears that you wondering is this going to stop. I had so many thoughts cross my mind like those Hollywood moments where pictures flash  thorough so fast its blinding. It started the end of grieving had started. everything I hid, pushed aside, fought at or said wasn’t real spilled onto my shirt.  3 weeks I’ve cried everyday until yesterday. I feel relief but you can not grieve for 2.5 years and expect it to just go away. My heart that had been so broken for so many reasons has started the stitching and my healing is real. With that I hope I can start seeing some of the good things about myself that I miss because of the butt whoop in I put on myself.

Why write this blog: Somebody knows exactly what I feel or felt. They’ve been waiting for years or just moments to start grieving. God didn’t want us to carry this burden but he also knows we have to go through the process to heal not just band-aid the situation. Dont fight the process, it will come, in the mean time a lot can leave your life. When the heart starts breaking let the cut open and let that crap I know for me it was time.

Love you and tank you for reading always

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Day 831 My love letter to my daughter

6 05 2015

My beautiful angel becomes a teenager tomorrow 13 years old Wow. Nobody I know has ever said a bad thing about her and everyone goes out of their way to compliment her. This is my love letter to my beautiful daughter.

When we were pregnant with you and found out you were going to be a girl no matter how excited we were I was so afraid to have a little a girl. These questions rolled around in my head… What do you do with a girl? What if I squeeze her to hard, I don’t know what to do with hair, how do you play dolls, how do I do makeup, what about her period. Does she know I’m going to beat up all the boys that talk to her. Does she know I don’t want to screw her up? I tried my best to be a good daddy but I had so many of my issues with worth and being afraid that I pushed some responsibilities on your mom that I should have taken care of. I always made sure you dressed well, I even changed 29 diapers when you had the ROTO virus, I l put dresses on your stuffed animals and held you in my lap, I even laid on the floor and let you put make up on me one time. I look back on the years when you were a little girl and a lot of it was a blur. No matter how much I tried to “there” my body was there but my mind was not. I have pictures and you look happy in them but I wasn’t and I know I messed up a lot. I wanted to be better but didn’t know how. No matter what I did you loved me and always told me. When your mom and I fought around you and yelled I never knew the damage we were doing but I didn’t know either because I was to busy worrying about myself.

Fast forward to after our divorce. I knew the only way you would ever feel the loved you and your brother deserved was for me to wake up and become the man and father you needed and deserved. If I didn’t you would find someone like I was and that made me sick. I started getting help and started seeing  how important I was for you. If I could love you and show you that the chances of you being healthy and not looking for a crappy hairy legged guy your chances would be better. I remember the day I moved out of the house and I looked at you and my heart swelled with pride. I looked at you and said that’s my daughter, that’s my blood and wow she is all the best of me. Your gorgeous, your eyes and how you carry yourself would make any parent proud, Your tall, striking and you carry a presence, your independent and at the same time you don’t tolerate crap you’re so accepting of others and what they go through. You took your recess at school and helped the challenged kids and loved them and hugged them when I was afraid of them. Your heart breaks when any animal is hurt, when you see a story about people hurting your heart hurts. You go to the adult  rehab with  your mom and you change the older people’s day by loving them and telling them how special they are. You do everything for your brother. Yes you slap him around a bit but you tell him you love him and watch over him with the most love. I never knew what I would want in a girl but with 13 years of life with you: You are it. God could have never painted a better picture and brought it to life with you.

Finally Morgan Elizabeth Wood: Thank you for giving me a second chance to be your daddy. I wake up every morning knowing nothing is more important than you and your brother. No matter what I did or do you accept me and  you know I m doing my best. I feel it in my heart and see it in your eyes. I will and would die for you at any moment. There is not a bigger cheerleader for you than me. I will be here in your best and your darkest moments. No man will ever love you as much as your daddy. Don’t worry a few months ago when you told me you were proud of me my heart skipped a beat and got stronger because of you. Your truly amazing! Happy 13th birthday Morgan

I love you daddy!!!





Day 831 My love letter to my daughter

6 05 2015

My beautiful angel becomes a teenager tomorrow 13 years old Wow. Nobody I know has ever said a bad thing about her and everyone goes out of their way to compliment her. This is my love letter to my beautiful daughter.

When we were pregnant with you and found out you were going to be a girl no matter how excited we were I was so afraid to have a little a girl. These questions rolled around in my head… What do you do with a girl? What if I squeeze her to hard, I don’t know what to do with hair, how do you play dolls, how do I do makeup, what about her period. Does she know I’m going to beat up all the boys that talk to her. Does she know I don’t want to screw her up? I tried my best to be a good daddy but I had so many of my issues with worth and being afraid that I pushed some responsibilities on your mom that I should have taken care of. I always made sure you dressed well, I even changed 29 diapers when you had the ROTO virus, I l put dresses on your stuffed animals and held you in my lap, I even laid on the floor and let you put make up on me one time. I look back on the years when you were a little girl and a lot of it was a blur. No matter how much I tried to “there” my body was there but my mind was not. I have pictures and you look happy in them but I wasn’t and I know I messed up a lot. I wanted to be better but didn’t know how. No matter what I did you loved me and always told me. When your mom and I fought around you and yelled I never knew the damage we were doing but I didn’t know either because I was to busy worrying about myself.

Fast forward to after our divorce. I knew the only way you would ever feel the loved you and your brother deserved was for me to wake up and become the man and father you needed and deserved. If I didn’t you would find someone like I was and that made me sick. I started getting help and started seeing  how important I was for you. If I could love you and show you that the chances of you being healthy and not looking for a crappy hairy legged guy your chances would be better. I remember the day I moved out of the house and I looked at you and my heart swelled with pride. I looked at you and said that’s my daughter, that’s my blood and wow she is all the best of me. Your gorgeous, your eyes and how you carry yourself would make any parent proud, Your tall, striking and you carry a presence, your independent and at the same time you don’t tolerate crap you’re so accepting of others and what they go through. You took your recess at school and helped the challenged kids and loved them and hugged them when I was afraid of them. Your heart breaks when any animal is hurt, when you see a story about people hurting your heart hurts. You go to the adult  rehab with  your mom and you change the older people’s day by loving them and telling them how special they are. You do everything for your brother. Yes you slap him around a bit but you tell him you love him and watch over him with the most love. I never knew what I would want in a girl but with 13 years of life with you: You are it. God could have never painted a better picture and brought it to life with you.

Finally Morgan Elizabeth Wood: Thank you for giving me a second chance to be your daddy. I wake up every morning knowing nothing is more important than you and your brother. No matter what I did or do you accept me and  you know I m doing my best. I feel it in my heart and see it in your eyes. I will and would die for you at any moment. There is not a bigger cheerleader for you than me. I will be here in your best and your darkest moments. No man will ever love you as much as your daddy. Don’t worry a few months ago when you told me you were proud of me my heart skipped a beat and got stronger because of you. Your truly amazing! Happy 13th birthday Morgan

I love you daddy!!!





Day 467: What these eyes have seen

12 05 2014

I wish some days I was blogging more but I do enjoy it. Sometimes I have too much to blog about and sometimes not enough at all. Another fabulous mothers day celebrated along with my daughter’s birthday today. I’m trying so hard to appreciate my mom with her being older and her Parkinson. My daughter is almost a teenager and I’m appreciating at times how sweet she is before the transition starts to A TEENAGER.  I miss my kids so much the weeks I don’t have them that were so tired on Sunday night because we stay so busy.I think Im going to make this a two-part blog: Some of this you have heard before at the beginning and some is new. This is why I blog. I have seen ALOT Good and bad and each story of what I have seen with my eyes allows me to have a different idea or words to blog about my life. Im never really empty of  ideas but sometimes just can’t get them typed out. This blog started because my mom asked me this weekend what I had been envolved with and seen in my life! I swallowed hard and told her some of it.What these eyes have seen: I will start in 6th grade: A girl I called my girlfriend whatever it is at that age got decapitated in a car accident. I saw here before the funeral and how the head was stitched back on to this day the picture stays in my head. I broke my leg and it changed my life forever. I didn’t know it then but my life struggles started then. My first kiss I remember was in the hallway of this old dinge jr high we went to. I think my feet left the ground on the kiss and I thought I was in love. Little did I know how in Jr. high that love last about 2 days. Felt my first supposed heart-break. My first sense of violence I got in a fight where the kid landed the first 3 punches and it hurt but I got one and it was over. I liked the feeling of hurting someone. If I would have been smart enough I would have known that my anger of my life changing was at that moment.  I got my first hug from an 8th grade teacher that wasn’t from family and they told me that they were proud of me. It was the first time that I realized people didn’t care for just themselves. I got my first real job cleaning manure at a dairy and was the first time I realized I had to go to college. Especially the day it rained and I fell face first into it.  When my dad came home and was laid off and he never worked again. He was disabled and everything in my life went from good to horrible. When I worked to pay for my family, when the innocence of being a boy left and the anger of a man took over. When everything you had gotten at Christmas or birthdays was pawned or sold. It’s tough to know your stuff that made you happy was making someone else happy. When you go to someone elses house that you can’t stand just so you can eat a meal and not feel like a burden on your family. When you can’t stay healthy so you can play a sport that will “get you out” of the mess you hate. When you see the strongest woman you know cry for the first time and hate your dad because he couldn’t fix it so you would never have to see your mom cry again. When you have your first sexual experience and you have a girl tell you she loves you but you ignore her because you’re hurting to bad inside to let anything love you.  A happy time when you find 30 on the sidewalk and that provides your family bread and milk. A happy time for me always was that no matter how bad things got nobody knew we were poor. My mom could clean anything out of our cloths and she sold everything she had to make sure people know we were taken care of. How every birthday or Christmas I felt like it I won the lottery because I got one or two gifts. When my parents knew the responsibility that I was under but stopped me and made me look them in the eye and they always said they were proud of me.I’ll start again in the next blog. Thanks for always reading.

via Day 467: What these eyes have seen.





Day 467: What these eyes have seen

12 05 2014

I wish some days I was blogging more but I do enjoy it. Sometimes I have too much to blog about and sometimes not enough at all. Another fabulous mothers day celebrated along with my daughter’s birthday today. I’m trying so hard to appreciate my mom with her being older and her Parkinson. My daughter is almost a teenager and I’m appreciating at times how sweet she is before the transition starts to A TEENAGER.  I miss my kids so much the weeks I don’t have them that were so tired on Sunday night because we stay so busy.

I think Im going to make this a two-part blog: Some of this you have heard before at the beginning and some is new. This is why I blog. I have seen ALOT Good and bad and each story of what I have seen with my eyes allows me to have a different idea or words to blog about my life. Im never really empty of  ideas but sometimes just can’t get them typed out. This blog started because my mom asked me this weekend what I had been envolved with and seen in my life! I swallowed hard and told her some of it.

What these eyes have seen: I will start in 6th grade: A girl I called my girlfriend whatever it is at that age got decapitated in a car accident. I saw here before the funeral and how the head was stitched back on to this day the picture stays in my head. I broke my leg and it changed my life forever. I didn’t know it then but my life struggles started then. My first kiss I remember was in the hallway of this old dinge jr high we went to. I think my feet left the ground on the kiss and I thought I was in love. Little did I know how in Jr. high that love last about 2 days. Felt my first supposed heart-break. My first sense of violence I got in a fight where the kid landed the first 3 punches and it hurt but I got one and it was over. I liked the feeling of hurting someone. If I would have been smart enough I would have known that my anger of my life changing was at that moment.  I got my first hug from an 8th grade teacher that wasn’t from family and they told me that they were proud of me. It was the first time that I realized people didn’t care for just themselves. I got my first real job cleaning manure at a dairy and was the first time I realized I had to go to college. Especially the day it rained and I fell face first into it.  When my dad came home and was laid off and he never worked again. He was disabled and everything in my life went from good to horrible. When I worked to pay for my family, when the innocence of being a boy left and the anger of a man took over. When everything you had gotten at Christmas or birthdays was pawned or sold. It’s tough to know your stuff that made you happy was making someone else happy. When you go to someone elses house that you can’t stand just so you can eat a meal and not feel like a burden on your family. When you can’t stay healthy so you can play a sport that will “get you out” of the mess you hate. When you see the strongest woman you know cry for the first time and hate your dad because he couldn’t fix it so you would never have to see your mom cry again. When you have your first sexual experience and you have a girl tell you she loves you but you ignore her because you’re hurting to bad inside to let anything love you.  A happy time when you find 30 on the sidewalk and that provides your family bread and milk. A happy time for me always was that no matter how bad things got nobody knew we were poor. My mom could clean anything out of our cloths and she sold everything she had to make sure people know we were taken care of. How every birthday or Christmas I felt like it I won the lottery because I got one or two gifts. When my parents knew the responsibility that I was under but stopped me and made me look them in the eye and they always said they were proud of me.

I’ll start again in the next blog. Thanks for always reading.





Day 467: What these eyes have seen

11 05 2014

I wish some days I was blogging more but I do enjoy it. Sometimes I have too much to blog about and sometimes not enough at all. Another fabulous mothers day celebrated along with my daughter’s birthday today. I’m trying so hard to appreciate my mom with her being older and her Parkinson. My daughter is almost a teenager and I’m appreciating at times how sweet she is before the transition starts to A TEENAGER.  I miss my kids so much the weeks I don’t have them that were so tired on Sunday night because we stay so busy.

I think Im going to make this a two-part blog: Some of this you have heard before at the beginning and some is new. This is why I blog. I have seen ALOT Good and bad and each story of what I have seen with my eyes allows me to have a different idea or words to blog about my life. Im never really empty of  ideas but sometimes just can’t get them typed out. This blog started because my mom asked me this weekend what I had been envolved with and seen in my life! I swallowed hard and told her some of it.

What these eyes have seen: I will start in 6th grade: A girl I called my girlfriend whatever it is at that age got decapitated in a car accident. I saw here before the funeral and how the head was stitched back on to this day the picture stays in my head. I broke my leg and it changed my life forever. I didn’t know it then but my life struggles started then. My first kiss I remember was in the hallway of this old dinge jr high we went to. I think my feet left the ground on the kiss and I thought I was in love. Little did I know how in Jr. high that love last about 2 days. Felt my first supposed heart-break. My first sense of violence I got in a fight where the kid landed the first 3 punches and it hurt but I got one and it was over. I liked the feeling of hurting someone. If I would have been smart enough I would have known that my anger of my life changing was at that moment.  I got my first hug from an 8th grade teacher that wasn’t from family and they told me that they were proud of me. It was the first time that I realized people didn’t care for just themselves. I got my first real job cleaning manure at a dairy and was the first time I realized I had to go to college. Especially the day it rained and I fell face first into it.  When my dad came home and was laid off and he never worked again. He was disabled and everything in my life went from good to horrible. When I worked to pay for my family, when the innocence of being a boy left and the anger of a man took over. When everything you had gotten at Christmas or birthdays was pawned or sold. It’s tough to know your stuff that made you happy was making someone else happy. When you go to someone elses house that you can’t stand just so you can eat a meal and not feel like a burden on your family. When you can’t stay healthy so you can play a sport that will “get you out” of the mess you hate. When you see the strongest woman you know cry for the first time and hate your dad because he couldn’t fix it so you would never have to see your mom cry again. When you have your first sexual experience and you have a girl tell you she loves you but you ignore her because you’re hurting to bad inside to let anything love you.  A happy time when you find 30 on the sidewalk and that provides your family bread and milk. A happy time for me always was that no matter how bad things got nobody knew we were poor. My mom could clean anything out of our cloths and she sold everything she had to make sure people know we were taken care of. How every birthday or Christmas I felt like it I won the lottery because I got one or two gifts. When my parents knew the responsibility that I was under but stopped me and made me look them in the eye and they always said they were proud of me.

I’ll start again in the next blog. Thanks for always reading.








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