August 03, 2019

Milestones

August 03, 2019/ Olivia Searcy

My nephew Caleb turned 18 today. It shocked me deeply. I didn’t realize that he was on the cusp of adulthood until today. He is a young man, no longer a boy. I must adjust the way I see him.

We don’t live in the same town, so I don’t have the visual cues to help me with growth. He is into technology and Marvel/DC worlds. We chat sometimes, mostly about Superman vs Batman. #teamSuperman! He has overcome many challenges and is a marvelous young man. I am a proud aunt!

I am thinking of the importance of celebrating milestones, those important passages in our lives. It is right and just that we celebrate regularly.

Today I celebrate Caleb and all he has triumphed over. I celebrate Caleb’s mom, my sister Karen, for persevering through circumstances that have broken many others. I remember Caleb’s dad, and am a little sad he didn’t live to see Caleb’s 18th. I celebrate Caleb’s siblings, Lauren and Christian, and I am eager to see what adulthood brings them

Our family has gone through a lot of struggle, but I believe the best years of our lives are ahead of us.

Celebrate your victories and milestones! Keep them close to your heart when times become difficult.

Onward and upward!

Brioche & Biscuits

Contact me!

I am constantly looking for new ways to share the news that it is possible to heal from the effects of trauma in our lives. If you would like to learn more about what is happening and how you can help, don't hesitate to reach out.

Olivia Searcy
smallandfoolish@gmail.com

Happy Mother’s Day!

Happy Mother’s Day!

My mother wasn’t a feminist. She didn’t long to make her mark in the workplace. She wasn’t a pioneer for social justice. Her desire was to be a wife and mother. She wanted to have six children befire the age of thirty. She gave birt

My mother wasn’t a feminist. She didn’t long to make her mark in the workplace. She wasn’t a pioneer for social justice. Her desire was to be a wife and mother. She wanted to have six children befire the age of thirty. She gave birth to four. I was number one. My due date was November 22, 1963, but I was actually born 3 months earlier, on August 22nd. I weighed 2 lbs, 3 oz. and was born with respiratory distress syndrome, known then as hyaline membrane disease. The prognosis was grim, and few newborns survived. My earliest memory is of my mother reading to me. When my eyes were vacant and I didn’t respond to outside stimuli, she read to me. When doctors told her I would be limited cognatively, she read to me. When she was knocked down when she was 5 months pregnant and I was born 2 weeks later, she read to me instead of accepting the inevitable. Reading was her way of fighting. She knew I would be well. For three years she read to me, with no visible sign of change. My physical milestones were fine,but I wasn’t speaking. I wasn’t responding to verbal or vocal cues. My eyes still had that vacant look. But I was surrounded by her voice, and occasionally the television. One day, we went to visit relatives in Englewood, New Jersey. My father was driving. My mother was in the front, with my baby brother. I was three at the time, in the back seat looking out of the window. As we passed a Shell gas station, I spoke my first words ever. “Shell. They sponsor Sputnik.” I believe her faith made me whole. For three years, she believed. She fought with the only weapons she had. And that was enough. #happymothersday

Cherry Blossoms!!!

Cherry Blossoms!!!