This is for the Cinderalla’s, the Rudy’s, and the 6^th man that get over looked. 

This ones for the winner that is too determined to be defeated.

Find A Way

This is for the walking wounded, for the numb that can’t feel the missed mended  holes within them. 

This is for the weeping widows and widowers in the waiting rooms of hospitals.  For the surgeons that did not save a life today. 

Find A Way

This is for the weary.  The ones that give up, so they become the mail man or the garbage man.  This is for the kid that wakes up crying from a bad dream and mom’s not their to sing a lullaby. 

This is to the kid shootin in the rain.

This ones for the middle aged men still running from their problems because pops never taught them how to solve them.  This ones for the ones that walk without being led. 

                                                                          Find A Way

This is for the girl that got a perfect childhood, but her best friend didn’t.  Or the girl that misses out on Daddy Daughter Dates. 

This is to the boy tryin on his brother’s football pads, flexing in the mirror.  This is to the fathers that take a day off of work and go fly fishin with their sons.  This is for Sophie Barton.  And how she made life so beautiful. 

This is to the man on the moon. 

If he can do it, then why can’t you?  

And this one, this ones for me, because I deserve it.  And so do you.

Keep Me Where The Light Is

Reminders.  That's all they are.  Reminding me that  I keep forgetting to stop biting my lower lip.  Reminding me that my hands are stubby, but I like them because they are just like his.  Reminding me that everything I'm not, may be everything I am. 

The sticky notes on the mirrors reminding us to pay the bills, the letters that are filled with his messy penmanship reminding us that he has already built a legacy to follow, and the pictures on the walls reminding me how happy we were.

And the reminder that you are simply on vacation. 

I keep forgetting to buy my plane ticket to come see you. 

I keep forgetting that I only have enough time to ask you one question.  And that would be when will we own ourselves completely?

Then I'm reminded that I need more quarters to slide in the payphone.  Which brings me to spending all my money on shoes because I keep forgetting that they make me happy for now. I keep forgetting to put my money to use, like keeping the lights on.  Then I'm reminded that you never liked them on anyways, and I always keep forgetting to turn them off like you asked me to. 

I keep forgetting to eat our mid-night snack of celery and peanut butter, I guess I keep forgetting to look for you in the stands, and I keep forgetting to give my brothers a chance to become like you, and I keep forgetting to make you proud. 

And tonight, tonight is not the last time I'll see the light. 

St. Patricks Day  By: John Mayer


The Holidays are approaching and you know what that means.  The only way to survive the winter's cold is to find love to call your own.  No one wants to be alone at Christmas time, and when January comes we're all numb inside from the cold, our relationships are almost forcing us to stay together. 

John knows this, in fact he's on a mission to find her, the girl to come home to after a long day at work, because that sounds an awfully lot better than an empty house. 
So they begin dating and he learns of her. She tells him the name of her brothers and her favorite color and he's learning her.  Through the holidays he see's that they aren't the only victims.  Everybody else seems to be wanting to be just like them.
And what happens when your "always" is all that you give? Will you take what you learn and use it for the spring?

Pollen and Salt By: Daphne Loves Derby

Silance is loud even in a peaceful world, without you.  The evenings are calm but I am restless.  Not even the mighty sky can fill space you left behind, not even when it rains. 

You were too great to replace.  So I hold my breath for many nights in a row.  And in places I've never been to I know you're painting your dreams, you're achieving them, without me.

My sweetest memories of you are all I have left, but I'm willing to give them away if I could just be with you, again. 

Last night you'll never believe what happened.  I drempt you were with us, and finally I could breathe again.


The Greatest By: Cat Power

"Once I wanted to be the greatest..." 

We all say we want to be the greatest when were playing on the playground.  And then something happens, your situation, your circumstance changes.  It's that moment of clarity when you realize, it's just that, a dream.  Your natural instinct is to fight for it even harder, and disappointment will follow.  You accept it. 

Chan tells us it's okay to be average. And that failed ambition is inside us all. Will you be one to accept that your goals and dreams will never be achieved? Will you let it humble you?  Well, if my input means something, I'd tell you that I haven't let it humble me yet.  I'm too stubborn. 

Forgetting

I forgot to eat breakfast today.  It's not that I don't like breakfast or eating or whatever.  I just simply forgot.  I forgot to feed the dog on my way out of the house as well. I wonder if that banana forgot about me.  Or if my dog's forgetting what I sound like.

My grandma is starting to forget what grand kid I am.  We visited her today.  It was sweet to see her smile but depressing to see her so flustered with herself that she couldn't remember if my name is Mathew, Sophie, or Karren and if I am married with two kids or at BYU.  She doesn't remember which kid she brought to the Mariners game and which kid had to stay home.  Which kid called her on her birthday and which kid is grieving. 

It's like we all are in the same category.  Same order.  Same genre.  Same expectation.  But I don't want to be just a grand child to her.
                                   Or some classmate or student to you.  I don't want to be just some friend.
                     Some sister. 
                                           Some daughter.
                                                                        Some wife. 
                                                                                            Some mother to a child.

I want to be somebody.  I want to leave a mark in your life, in her life, in his life, and even the kid that sits in front of me in STATS class's life. 

I want to be remembered. Like my father is.   Like Michael Jordan is.  Like the sand man is when you wake up and scratch your eyes.  Like sin is when a tear drops from their mama's eyes.  Like our childhood hero's are remembered. 

I still remember the sound of his church shoes hitting the hardwood floors after a days worth of working.  I still remember the tears that filled my brothers' eyes when we waited outside of the hospital room.  I still remember the smell of his colon, but only because Mom couldn't stand having it around and gave it to my brother.  So now he smells like him.  I still remember tossing and turning every night because all I could hear was Dad, pounding the keyboard with his two index fingers. 

Still working.  Man, kemo couldn't slow him down.  So why would death slow him down? 

Forgetting will slow me down. 

Scars

Don't you hate when you need to be somewhere at a precise time and location and you're running behind on time?  And the person in front of you is driving soooo slow.  They even blinker when they change lanes.   To make it worse, you get lost.  After your incidence of road rage, you finally get to your destination.  But you're too late.

I don't know what is more frightening than getting lost.   Maybe you are lost and far from achieving a dream.  Maybe your best friend is lost and you are no longer apart of them.  And maybe you are lost because of distractions, and these distractions take the best version of you, and just get erased.

I have this scar on my left foot.  It's about two and a half inches long. Although it's not my biggest scar, it's the cooler story to tell people.  I got it from participating in a rodeo. Long story short... I attempted to pull the ribbon off of a calf and well... the calf wrecked my foot!

 I think there are scars that we all share.  And that is failure.  It cuts deep.  It eats at you and whispers to you that someday its pain will mark you.  Well, it marked me.  Those scars get me up in the morning, those scars keep me fighting.  Fighting for another chance to mend my weaknesses, so that I don't ever get lost from the dreams I have set out to accomplish while I'm here.  

Oh yeah, that person you were stuck behind in traffic was also late to their dream job.  We are all late to our dream jobs.  

You Better Rock Out

                                              Rock out like you're on your way to 80's with a solid crew. 

                              Like your pencil just broke, and there's no sharpener in the class room.  

                          Rock out like the mail man delivered the real estate check.            
           Like your pimple disappeared or you sneak out of the house....successfully.

                                        Rock out like you have a purpose.

                                                                  Rock out because you hear em in the stands.  Rock out like he wore a skinny tie and looks fiiiiinnneeeee.      
                                                       Like time flies on wings of lightning.

Rock out like You've Got Mail is on television and you can rewind it over and over again, still giving you goose bumps when that cheesy version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow comes on.

Rock out like a camera man clicks his camera because he knows he found a superstar.

Rock out like N*SYNC and 98° were the real deal. 

         Rock out like its a Chinese Fire Drill on State Street.                                                                     Rock out when your future husband thinks bout you.                                  

Rock out like you're hot cuz you've been dancing with the devil. 

                     Like you're glidin on fresh powder in Canada's best ski resort.                  

Like Rachel Pitts rocks out every time we score.  

Rock out like you aren't the same as you were yesterday.                                                         Like you totally called his next girlfriend, and she's nothing like you.  In fact, rock out because you no longer are with him and you're perfectly lonely.  

Rock out like Deja Vu just happened.

                  Like the newest Biggie Smallz  remix is stuck in your head.  

Rock out like a guy pump fists when the doctor announces they're having a baby boy.   Rock out when your boyfriend is hotter than your friends boyfriends.  

And you better rock out when the day comes when you make him proud.  

Like the world is blindsided.  Like you're that man on the moon. 

Rock out when you pay it forward.  Rock out when you're the only one, and it's enough.   

We still...

 We came home from Mark's funeral and Dad pinned the program in his office, right next to our family photo.  I never asked why he did, because I already had the answer.  It was a reminder to him.  Kindle life because it's precious.

Cancer was like a foreign word to me.  I just thought who ever had it lost their hair.

I lost my last tooth the year Uncle Jim died.  I remember so vividly because at the viewing everyone commented on my funky smile.
 
I smiled because I was scared,  scared that it was our turn to walk him through death.

Our turn came like a thief in the night,  but we didn't change one thing.   We still went to Jackson Hole, Wyoming for the 4th. We still went for runs together, except the weeks he had kemo.  He still woke me up every morning, even if he had to call me from his doctor's appointment.  We still played catch every Sunday after church.  He still raised his voice when I came in late for curfew, and still teased me about my first boyfriend in the 7th grade, but he still made sure he was the only man in my life and told me I can't kiss a boy till I'm married. 

At the end of every hectic day, Mom made time to come in my room and let me ask questions.  She had a way to make me feel like Dad will be here in the morning. 

We walked him through death, together.

We didn't change any routines or the way we lived our life.  We just cherished him coming home with a big old smile on his face because he has us, and we have him.

*Now I have Dad's program pinned in my room.  For a reminder I suppose.  That life is precious.  

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

The days got longer and the sun and moon seem to glow more.  Every once in awhile we'll talk about him and we rarely end with out tissues getting passed around.

We all write down our own personal memories that haunt us in our sleep because we all fear they will be forgotten if we don't.
 
I run to remember.  I remember how I use to only have a to do list.  I went threw the motions.  Then, life happened. 

Cancer; wish we had more time.

I remember my dream to play at the next level, but it failed.  I remember my dream of him walking me down the isle.  I remember the dream of being happy all together, but I awoke from that dream that Sunday morning in September.

I didn't stop to smell the roses anymore.  In my eyes, everything was hazy.

When "plan A" failed, I turned to B
Or C D through a different perspective.  Failing is an essential part of learning in life.  Humility will find you on your weakest day.  It found me while was laying hopelessly on my couch after surgery.  Everyone was hyped up about the holidays, and going ice skating and making igloos.  I couldn't even stand on my own feet.  I had nothing to fall back on, but that's when you loose yourself, then you find yourself.

Some people noticed a spring in my step.  I just told em it was swag.

So I created new dreams.  I didn't replace them but I build upon them.  I made them better.  A dream that fails is not a loyal dream.  A loyal dream is one that you never give up on, and it never gives up on you.  The difference  my dream and your dream is my dreams lights a fire within me.  They tell me to never settle.

I'm thinking about you

I'm thinking about you like rain thinks about fallin and when it starts fallin you know that means Seattle's callin

I'm thinking about you like old Black Nugget Road thinks about dirt and bumps and whenever someone acted up, they had to walk the gravel humps.

I'm thinking about you like stress thinks about worrying, and worrying thinks about hurrying and how I never learned my lesson.  Which brings me to second guessing.  I'm thinking about you like tumors think about spreading.  Like mistakes think about mending.  Like wind thinks about roaring, and dreams think about forming.  Like barriers think about breaking, and minds think about awakening. 

I'm thinking about you like doctors think about curing, like mom thinks about learning
to write chapters without him.

I'm thinking about you like fall thinks about changing.  Like coaches think about pushing, like dad's should think about their kids childhoods.  Like kids think about keeping their eyes open so they can greet dad when he struggles to walk threw the door. 

I'm thinking about you like toes think about being in the sand.  Like families think about vacation.  Like vacation thinks about relaxing.  Like relaxing thinks about smiles and smiles think about happiness.  Like happiness thinks about forever. 

I'm thinking about you like clouds think about silver linings.  Like difficult times think about better days to come.

Love

Love is a circle. Love is being on top of a mountain, looking down at what you've overcomed.  Love is like listening to James Taylor on a Sunday afternoon.  Love is a tree.  It provides.  Love is big band-aid that covers up the boo boo.   Love is an alarm clock.  It's annoying when you hear the sound, but you rely on it to start your day.  Love is the Fourth of July. Love is bold.   Love is shoes on my feet.  Love is keeping all the teenage girls up at their slumber parties. Love is midnight runs to wal-mart to get toilet paper, because we ran out.   Love is a cold shower on a winter morning.   Love is changing a dirty diaper.  Love is a warm cup of cocoa in your hand and enjoying each others smiles.   Love is waking up to the smell of banana pancakes.  Love is home.  Love is Mom working all night to pay the bills.  Love is a sunday kind of love, a kind of love that lasts past Saturday night.  Love is getting lost in a field of daises.   Love is sleeping at the hospital by his side, even though I loathe that place.  Love is blind.   Love is being satisfied, because you found the one. Love is s i m p l e, but why do we make it so freakin complicated? Love is invincible.  Love is making the best of what comes your way.  Love is keeping a promise, no matter what you'll stumble upon.  Love is seeing his side of the story.  Love is being vulnerable.  Love is scary. Love is hope.  Love is not having a care in the world.  Love is deceitful.  Love is a tattoo that will never be removed.  Love is really nothing, but a dream that keeps waking me..  

People are always saying that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all... has happened.
I have found that when you do everything you can, then you can actually fall asleep at night.  Yes, I am one of those persons that lie in bed thinking about what I should have, could have, would have done scenarios.
Shopgirl is my name.  It comes from one of my favorite movies I like to cuddle up to with my girlz on a raining day.  You've Got Mail.  It's Meg Ryan's email name.  That movie has so many quotes, that it's like it's apart of me. Mmm actually, just kidding.