He climbed a ladder at three all by himself.
“Look, I did it Mommy !” he shouted with delight from the highest rung
As I proudly witnessed his achievement.
I smiled back at him with happiness.
“Why would you let a 3 year old climb a ladder?” you scowled.
Well, he didn’t just climb the ladder in one day.
Day one he stood on one rung and stepped back down.
Day two he went up two rungs a few times.
Day three he was almost to the top.
Day four he said “Look, I did it Mommy!”
And that is why I let him climb the ladder -
Because the look on his face
As he carefully made his way down to give me a hug
Was something no store bought toy could ever give.

Dancing with Everyone

Little girl of three
Weaving in and out of the crowded room
Dancing with her
Dancing with him
Not a care in the world
Not worrying about anything
Dancing to one end of the room
And back again
Blonde hair and blue eyes
A huge smile
Wonderful laugh
Everyone was smiling
Because of you
Such power at only three
Never lose that power
It is in you forever.

Let her turn back the days
Before it all happened
To the time when innocence was smiling and happy
Where sparkle was in her eyes
Where hope was in her heart
Where dreams could happen
The here and now is painful for her
So let her drift back
To before it all happened
Where she enjoyed the suns warmth
Or the warmth of a hug
Where she saw the pretty flower
And picked it with delight
Thanking her Creator for such beauty
The here and now
Is dark and painful
And tears fall
And life doesn’t feel good
So let her drift back
To before it all happened
So she can live
In peace.

I just casually was leaving a room and there it was. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. I knew what it was. It was about the size of a quarter and big and dark and creepy. Yes, it was a spider. It was in a position that I could kill it, too. Not in some odd corner place where you can’t get it, but right there where a straight hit with the flyswatter would surely get it. Now I had to aim carefully though, so I did. I was sure of myself that I would get it. And smack I went. But it just jumped up and started crawling away. How totally creepy! I let out a scream and hit it again. I wasn’t sure it was dead as it was on the carpet and I didn’t have enough power in that smack. So I quickly left the area with flyswatter on top of spider. I came back with a heavy book, removed the flyswatter quickly and that dark creature (that I have huge fear of) did not even look dead. So I smashed it with the heavy book. For good measure I stomped on the book. My foot hurt after that.

I then got the flyswatter and hit it again and it stuck to the flyswatter. I ran to the bathroom and hit the flyswatter above the toilet and flushed. It still actually looked like it wasn’t even dead! For even better measure, I flushed the toilet again.

My heart was beating fast and I quickly looked around the area for more of them. None were around, so I started calming down.

I searched the web and it said something about how women are more prone to be afraid of spiders than men. That doesn’t seem fair! Anyway, I didn’t feel so embarrassed by my scream that could have frightened neighbors halfway down the street after reading that fact.

I had a psychiatrist once tell me that if I see a spider, to just leave the room and usually by the time I get back in the room, the spider will be gone. Well, that doesn’t cut it with me. I would worry too much about the offending thing and so it has been better to just face it and banish the spider when I see it.

Something admirable about my ex-husband was that he was so good at getting spiders. He was a carpenter and worked at many construction sites where of course the creatures were often everywhere. He could just go and pick up a spider and throw it outside without batting an eyelash! I thought that quite amazing. Me, no, I can’t do that. So I shiver in fear and scream, but eventually get the job done. There are times I miss a direct hit at the scary offender and off it crawls away. Then I just try to “pretend” it has left the premises so as to not worry about it any longer!

I did see some spider catchers online. They may work. Could be a more humane way of getting ridding of them. They made this long handled contraption where it just scoops the spider up quickly and grabs onto it and then you just go put the spider outside. Not sure if I could do that or not.

In the meantime, I just hope the spiders get the hint that they are better off outside than in here. There are two cats here that love to eat spiders, too. So maybe I would have more spiders if it wasn’t for them!

If you have better ideas of getting rid of a spider and taking them outside (without getting scared) feel free to let me know!

- Connie Webb

I can still be okay with me

Even if you don’t like me

Or love me;

Even if you put me down,

Make fun of me,

Hate me.

I can still be okay with me.

Even if you ignore me,

Treat me like a nothing,

Reject me -

Doesn’t matter,

I can still be okay with me.

My value and worth

Does not come from you.

I already have it.

I was born with it.

I was born precious and worthwhile.

No matter what age I am,

I am still precious and worthwhile.

Nothing you can do or not do

Will ever take away my self-worth.

None of your actions, behaviors or words

That are cruel and unkind

Will ever tear me down,

Because I was created beautifully

To withstand any of your harm;

As long as I keep remembering

Who I am

A precious creature -

Filled with amazing strength

That won’t allow your meanness

To crush me.

It can’t crush me

Because I won’t allow it -

Ever!

- Connie Webb

Her words, kindness and actions;

Her listening;

Her being there;

Her love -

Will never be forgotten.

In the past,

There were cruel actions;

Cruel words;

And I didn’t think I could trust

Anyone again.

She showed me that I could not only trust,

But that I could be loved;

That I was lovable;

And that I could love again.

What a great gift I got from her -

And she

Will never be forgotten.

Goodbye -

My dear friend.

- By, Connie Webb 10/26/12

(Dedicated to an 89 year old beautiful friend who passed away yesterday. Her spirit will forever live on as you can never destroy such love as she had!)

WE ARE THE WORDS OF THE SONGS, ONLY SOMETIMES

I’ve learned
I’ve grown
Only sometimes.

I’ve heard
Alone, I’m not,
With heartbreaks
Only sometimes.

I’ve understood
Things can change
Only sometimes.

I’ve been motivated by
The words of the songs
To change
Only sometimes.

Yes, heartache is real.
Tragedy is real.
Anger is real.
But then,
Love is real;
Victory is real;
Happiness is, too.
And the words of the songs
Were written for
You and me
To hear
Which we do
Only sometimes.
‘Cuz only sometimes
Do we want to know about
The words of the songs.
- Connie Webb - Dedicated to humanity

I am a princess.
All girls are.
Even if they live in
tiny old attics.
Even if they dress in rags,
even if they aren’t pretty,
or smart,
or young.
They’re still princesses.
All of us.
Didn’t your father ever tell you that?
Didn’t he? – A Little Princess movie lines

After hearing these lines from the movie “A Little Princess” I just really had tears. I am stopping to think of why now. I guess it is because my mother left my father when I was only 7 years old. I was to never see him in person again.

I still remember all the other little girls saying things like “Look what my Daddy bought me. Isn’t it wonderful?” Or things like “My Daddy took me to the movies” or “My Daddy is going to take me out for ice cream after school” or “Look, there’s my Daddy in the audience.” Back then I just shut down my feelings, pretending it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a father any more. Or other times I would just imagine my father coming back and scooping me up and telling me he loved me.

When I turned 27 years old, I chose to look up my father. Through the years my mom had always told me that my father didn’t love any of us any longer and to not bother thinking about him any more. I hesitantly picked up the phone and dialed what I hoped was my father’s number. A lady answered. I asked for my father by name and she put him on the phone. I told my father he might want to sit down as I had something important to tell him. I said that I was his daughter and just wanted to say hello to him and tell him that I was sorry we didn’t get to be connected until now. It was a wonderful conversation between a father and a daughter. It turns out he said he never knew where we were all those years. He says he never could find us. And my mom certainly did move us every single year. So certainly it would be difficult for him to locate us. So anyway, I am not sure who is telling the truth. My mom says that my dad always knew where we were, but didn’t care to contact us.

I never will know the full truth. But the thing I do know is that I am happy I picked up the telephone that day, 20 years after not seeing my dad. The day I got a card from him signed “Love your dad” was the day I truly could feel inside that I really was cherished and loved after all. I only had a year and a half of conversing with my dad via phone as he died of a heart attack at age 64. I never got to meet with him again or see him in person again. But I have good memories of our phone conversations and letters he wrote to me and letters I could write to him “finally”, too. As a little girl, my mom would say “Don’t even bother writing him. He doesn’t care!” So I just never did write him or try to call.

I am happy I chose to contact my father before it was too late and I wouldn’t have a chance. I don’t know if my father ever did tell me that I was a little princess when I was a little girl, but just him telling me that I was loved, was the best gift I could have ever gotten from him.

- Connie Webb

My mom was real big on St. Patrick’s Day. She colored our scrambled eggs green, our milk was green too on that day. She made sure every March 17^th we would have corned beef and cabbage which was my favorite before I became a Vegan.

My mom was always in good cheer on that day particularly since her mom’s family were Scottish/Irish descent. We all wore green that day, of course, and took turns pinching each other until we would go find some green somewhere even if we just attached a piece of green paper to ourselves.

I do believe there is the luck of the Irish. In my family growing up with five of us kids, it is amazing things we survived. Some days were just a struggle to make ends meet for my mom, but we made it through with flying colors.

So today I put on my green shirt and keep happy memories with me of my mom who raised four boys and a girl, me, which of course must have required much luck to do all that! Amazing how our mothers become better and better the older we get. After all these years I see more and more how much strength and courage my mom had to do lots of the things she did. So to mom, whatever realm you are in now, Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

- Connie Webb

When I was a little girl

A man behind a counter

Looked down and said

“What a pretty little girl”

I smiled back at him.

 

When I was playing with my toys

I started chanting “I’m pretty, I’m pretty”

I felt all cheerful inside.

 

Mom saw me doing that and said, “Don’t be saying you are pretty like that, besides pretty doesn’t cut it with me, now clean up your toys.”

“But Mommy, that man at the store said I was pretty, so I am pretty.”

“You are no prettier than the other little girls. Besides that man probably just said that to be polite. You are not “that pretty” so please quit saying that.”

 

I know my mom meant well. She didn’t want me to be all stuck up and conceited or vain.

But as I am aging now and look back at my photos of youth, if only I was allowed to believe as a little girl that I actually was pretty, maybe I wouldn’t have had such a hard time in the mirror all those years and even today.

 

No matter who said I was pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, or that I looked great, I never believed it. I always thought people just said things like that to be polite.

 

I forgive you mom for not knowing what was going on in my mind that day. I forgive you for not knowing that your comments had me always feeling that I was not that pretty. And today, as I look at my aging face in the mirror, I hope if I live another life that I will believe what that man said behind the counter of “What a pretty little girl” and get to enjoy my youth not feeling so “un-pretty”.

- Connie Webb