mothers

“The Next Generation”

| Laura Lee Bonde

[Written April 22, 2018, the Sunday before my mom died]

Every person in your life
is a teacher
They either show you who you want to be
or show you who you don’t

And every situation
has the same effect

Death
has the same effect

As I go through this painful trail
of losing my mother
I find more of myself

Instead of grieving what I missed
as a daughter
I’m strengthened to pour out
as a mother

Instead of regretting what’s been lost
in the past
I’m hoping for what I’ll create
in the future

The past will forever be behind me
as the future will always be in front of me
And it’s up to me to choose
the direction in which I walk

As I go through this painful trail
of losing my mother
I find more of the me I choose to be

“Giggles”

| Laura Lee Bonde

if I close my eyes
I can hear their laughs
Kyle’s deeper than Nathan’s
but Nathan’s catching up
in age
in maturity
in stature
two sons
one mother
two states
one heart
missing two
and two hearts
missing one
the bond between
mother and sons
goes beyond the boundaries
of state lines

Holidays are the Hardest

| Laura Lee Bonde

Yesterday was my favorite holiday of the year. Well, it “used” to be my favorite. We’ll see if it still remains…

It’s funny: I’ve ALWAYS loved the Fourth of July, but somewhere along the way, it became my favorite because of the firework shows and being with ALL my kids…two things I didn’t have this year, but when I thought about it, I didn’t have those last year, either.

As most of you know, moving to Texas “traumatized” me for a little while, and one of the traumatizing things was Continue reading →

Alternate Endings

| Laura Lee Bonde

December fourth, two thousand and sixteen…a day I’ll never forget.

It was a Friday, and I’d woken up from a bad dream. If I remember correctly, I woke up crying, and it turned out to be one of the most depressing mornings I’d had, and to top it all off, I felt a cold coming on.

You see, during that time, everything was so unsure: the business, my income, our groceries, etc., and the next day, I was scheduled to have a booth at the Rock and had some mixed emotions about THAT. Anyway, it was a tough morning, but I made it through by writing.

If you visit my website, you’ll find a calendar with daily writings. I believe the fourth was some of my darkest thoughts, but by the afternoon, I felt much better, and then, Katie came in.

She said, “Mom, I have something to tell you. I’m pregnant.” Continue reading →

The Outcast

| Laura Lee Bonde

Yesterday, Carolyn had her last band competition in LA, which was too far for me to travel: I didn’t have the money or the gas, so we both knew I wouldn’t’ve been able to make it, and since we’ve been bonding a lot lately, that was hard on both of us.

She was supposed to arrive back at the school at 1:00 AM, so before I went to bed, I set my alarm, and before I did that, I sent her a text of how I loved her.

After ten, she responded with what a hard day it had been. She’d endured it with pain and tears. She was tired and couldn’t wait to be home, and in her text, she put, “Mom, you don’t even know,” so I knew there was more to her day than just pain. Continue reading →

Scars that Prove Something

| Laura Lee Bonde

I always thought scars were a constant reminder of “what happened,” but since I have a couple now, I realize that’s not the case. Most of my “scars” are on the inside, so I never really thought about them as being reminders. Music, smells, household chores, thoughts usually trigger me back to a painful past, but not so much scars.

A little while back, I fell at my sons’ football practice and ended up in the emergency room. I have an irritating looking scar on my foot and my knee. At times, after standing for a while, the one on my foot hurts. Looking at it and feeling it, both, don’t seem to take me back to the moment of trauma; something else does. Continue reading →

Inspired by “The Sandlot”

| Laura Lee Bonde
Eddie, Troy, Alonzo, (my) Kyle, Tommy
Eddie, Troy, Alonzo, (my) Kyle, Tommy

When the older kids were little, we used to watch “The Sandlot” all the time, and in that movie, they showed a picture of young boys on a baseball field. You could tell they were friends. You could tell they were memories. Seeing an adult having those “memories” beside him in a frame inspired me to take a picture of Kyle and his friends ten years ago. Continue reading →