I promise…

For those that do not know, my  mother is in hospice. She has end stage Ovarian and Cervical Cancer. She had border line kidney failure.

My family is going through a stressful and tough time. Prayer appreciated.

Any who, that being said, I understand better than most people, that things are a little wonky right now and everyone can be a bit tense and prickly.

But, what I can’t understand is being a complete smart ass, being snarky at people, constantly being sarcastic, bad mouthing behind family’s back all the time, and just generally being ugly.

Sorry I have a daughter that made me late. Sorry I know I am right about the meds and took a little offense that you went behind my back and changed them anyways, sorry I know what I am talking about and get frustrated when you ask someone else and believe them instead of me.

That will be your problem from now on.

I promise to keep my mouth shut around you. Your opinion of me will no longer give me validation as to who I am.

I promise to keep my own opinions to myself. I will instead speculate with the nurses about things and my man who actually listens without judgement.

I promise to no longer vent with you. You will no longer be privy to inner thoughts, sadness, pain, frustrations, and hurt.

I promise to not leave my child with you anymore. You will no longer have to complain that she is too loud, too wild, too spoiled, too fat, too anything. She’s perfect.

I promise that you will not control my thoughts or actions by what you say or your attitude. I am a grown woman. You are too. Let’s act like it.

I promise that you will never see me cry or see me weak. We’re family, but you can’t handle me being anything else but what you think you see me as.

I promise to gain confidence in myself. This way you can’t tear me down with nasty words, comments, remarks, eye rolls, texts to your daughter, or texts to me.

I promise to no longer show up with an excuse. I’m here. Thank the Lord.

I promise to never explain myself. I shouldn’t have too. You don’t. Neither will I.

Lastly, I promise to always be here beside you for a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, a ear to hear, and a heart to feel compassion. But, we can no longer be best friends, bff’s, buds, we must simply be family. That is enough for me right now.

I’m hurt by the attitude that I’ve constantly received every time you’re around. I can’t do it anymore. I have a daughter and boyfriend that loves my smile too much.

I love you my dearest family. I love you so much it hurts. You’re my heart and soul. My life blood.

But it’s time for me to break free and think for myself.



Something about myself

Today I was researching information about the characteristics of Pride for a novel/story idea that I had. As I was reading some things I started to sweat. A lot.

I got a little uncomfortable.

There is was in black and white:

  1. Do you have a hard time admitting when you are wrong?
  2. Do you become defensive when you are criticized or corrected?
  3. Do you often complain—about the weather, your health, your circumstances, your job, your church?
  4. Do you neglect to express gratitude for “little things”? To God? To others?

(You can read the full list here: Evidences of Pride)

The list has about 41 items on it and I was shocked at how many applied to me. Me? Prideful? No, It can’t be so. But there is was, all those characteristics of pride glaring at me as I cringed.

I am prideful. It’s something that I had thought and played around with for a while, but never seriously considered that I could be that way. I mean, I thought of everyone else instead of myself! I never said no to others! I was putting others first since day one!

But, as I rechecked my attitudes I started to feel ashamed. I complain about everything and everyone. I do not even thank God for the little things. I absolutely HATE admitting when I am wrong. Abhor it, even. Do not even try to correct me, I’m as prickly as a cactus!

Now, I sit here ashamed at myself. Praying and begging God to please knock me down a peg. Humble me. Guide me. Correct me when i’m wrong, Oh Lord!!

It’s exhausting being right all the time. Constantly fighting to be heard and acknowledged just to feel seen. I have to know that people approve of my decisions, my actions, my thoughts. How tiring. How draining, not only physically, but Lord, emotionally and spiritually as well.

Friends, say a prayer for me. Please. Pray that I become humbled and my pride is knocked away.

Maybe I won’t be so tired anymore. Maybe I can quit fighting against the world.


Let’s be honest, even though I don’t wanna

OK, so it’s about to real honest up in here. I’m talking ‘straight to yo face and all up in yo grill’ type of honest. I have written about this before and I was halfhearted in making any plans and taking action. I talked a good game and made great plans! But never did anything.

What are you talking about Hannah!

I’m talking about my… food addiction.

But Hannah, get serious. That’s not a real thing!

Lies!! It is a real thing. Trust me.

For the past two weeks I have fed this addiction and gave in to it. I ate everything, I hoarded food, I got up at midnight and snicked food into the bed… Yesterday, I ate 10 mini brownies. 10. Let that sink in. Two was considered a serving.

Today I weighed myself to find that I had gained 8 pounds in two weeks. It hit me hard. I had started running/ walking again, started yoga again, watched what I ate, and drank nothing but water. It doesn’t mean anything when the food is an addiction.

It’s my stress relief, my comfort, my safety blanket, my everything when I need it. It’s embarrassing saying that. It really is. How ashamed I am to know that I am relying on food instead of relying on our Almighty God! Isn’t He the only one that can really comfort me? Ease my stress? A safety blanket? Can’t only God provide my every needs?

Today I am making an effort to not only count those calories, but the trust God to give me what I need, when I need it, and how I need it. For example, I need to get over the fact that I am using food to cover my sadness over my mother. Can’t God ease that burden better than a brownie?

By the way, the answer is yes. Yes, He can.

I think that when the world starts spinning too fast, we start grasping at physical things to get up by. I am somewhat immature in my faith with God. I have known God for a long time. I never KNEW God until now. As someone with a slight (re:huge) issue with control, it’s to just give up that power and hand it over to someone else.

I could control food. I can’t control cancer.

God knows what he is doing. Thankfully. Because I am completely lost most of the time.

So, is there another game plan? Yes.

Trust God. When I get the urge to binge, Pray. When I get the urge to hide food? Pray. When I feel overwhelmed and out of control? Pray.

Notice the trend?

This is going to be hard. It’s going to test me beyond anything.

Anything worth having isn’t easy though.


I’ll always love you more…

Let’s be honest, cancer is not pretty. The cancer societies always shows these fun commercials that has survivors prancing around in bright clothing, thankful for another birthday. They want you to donate and to just look at these happy and thriving people.

But that’s not the reality of cancer.

My mother was completely lucid a week ago. She was in pain, she was uncomfortable, but she was talking to us and communicating. Today she is talking randomly about the strangest things, she is not coherent, she is mumbling. Is it the pain meds that she is getting every two hours? Maybe. Is it the build up of toxins and the slow kidney failure? Possibly. Is it the softball size tumor sitting in her abdomen? Could be.

Who really knows.

It’s a sad way to go, slowly dying like this. Starving because your body rejects the food and water. In pain because there is no real way to stop it. Cancer is not pretty. It’s not birthdays and flowers, seeing a grand baby grow.

Not everyone that gets cancer gets a cure. Why can’t we talk about that? Why can’t we show commercials of cancer patients like this, just to let people know the realities. Yes, some get that remission and ‘cure’. Many do not. Cancer patients are like Schrodinger’s cat.  They are both dead and alive.

We celebrated the life and will eventually celebrate the death. I’m not ready to grieve her. I haven’t even been able to grieve my pawpaw (for non southern folks, that’s my grandfather). I’m not ready to imagine a life without her. Isn’t that the grand tragedy of life? We spend most of our life bickering and fighting, cutting each other down, hating and harming each other. Then, when we are at the end… we miss them. We regret the past. We regret the words and attitudes.

No, cancer is not pretty at all. I can’t believe how quickly something can come in and just devastate a whole family and life. Ya know, it can at least apologize at the end. “Hey, sorry I came in and jacked up your life and your family’s life. I was just doing my job.” How polite cancer would be.

I do not have any rhyme or reason to anything right now. I guess. I just write because it helps me somewhat deal with seeing what I see. Feeling what I feel. It does help some.

If, by some chance, this blog was to go viral or get big… I would want women to read this post. To read this: Get checked. Go to the doctor. Get your Paps done and follow the doctors orders. If you have an abnormal, go back in 6 months. If you start bleeding abnormally… GET CHECKED OUT. Do not wait, do not put it off. Take care of yourself ladies.

Chill out on the processed food, the sodas, the candies. Exercise for at least 30 minutes a day. Walk, do yoga, stop stressing about stuff. Find God. Live for him. Pray.

You don’t have to be super vegan, skinny, perfect. But be proactive in your health. Stop ignoring the fact that external factors such as food causes cancer.

Love yourself enough to invest in yourself. Please.

For the sake of your children and grandchildren. Get checked out.

Thank you


Say whaaaaaat?

Have you ever  met that person that does nothing wrong, their opinion is complete law, they must be right constantly? I have.

He’s frustrating.

It’s a shame that it is in the setting that we have been placed these couple of weeks, mom in the hospice… can’t we be cordial at least? I don’t think yelling and screaming at us is beneficial.

However, Praise God, I was able to handle it in a very understanding manner. I was respectful. I knew he was hurting. He has other family members that are hurting as well. I understand they have been together 15+ years, that doesn’t give you the right to call names. It’s ridiculous.

But, being the bigger person, I listened and understood.

He’s hurting and in denial. I get that. Let’s deal with it together. Please.

Some people choose to deal with hurt by lashing out at others and blaming others for everything. Isn’t that how we all do though? Even if it’s on a smaller scale.

We get hurt and start pointing fingers “He did… first”, “He said/did … to offend me”. I get it. Truly, I do.

I tell myself to rest in the love of Christ. Let God smooth those rough edges and calm this rough and ragged soul. I want to rule with love. Let love be my guiding light and compass. Look to Jesus to praise for the peace and calmness I feel.

What a shame it has come to name calling and finger pointing.

I’m glad I made the choices I have made. I respected my mothers wishes. I carried out everything she wanted. What more could I do.

But, friends, please say a prayer that God continues to move through me and continues to mold me into the person that lives fruitfully.



When I think of my mom, I think about fun times, my daughter, laughter, some tears, and a good amount of happiness.

My mother is not perfect by any means. She has made mistakes in her past and has done things that she admits and regrets. I do not think anyone on this planet is perfect. So, she is like the rest of us.

She is a wonderful mother and a fantastic grandmother. She loves my daughter so unconditionally and crazy hard. It’s a perfect love.

We never used to see eye to eye on a lot of things, my grandmother raised me most of the times, but we still shared and kept a bond.

Now, I miss those days we never had and the times we should have spent together. I regret the three years that we didn’t speak because of my pride. I miss the holidays we didn’t spend together. I miss the holidays that we will not get to have in the future.

I miss the days that she will not get to spend with my daughter, I miss the graduation she will miss, the wedding she will miss, the great grandchild she will miss, the drivers test, the first kiss, the first date, the shopping, the tantrums, the spend the night parties…

I miss the never will bes

I find it hard to believe that it is ok for her to being dying so young. She is only 52. But here she is, laying in the bed, suffering. Dying.

See, cancer is a bitch. She sneaks up on you when you’re enjoying your life and everything is going good. She smacks you in the face with a vengeance.

She doesn’t care if you’re rich or poor… young or old… happy or sad. She just comes anyways.

Knowing that God has a plan doesn’t help. I have full faith in my Creator and I know the He wants the best for His people. I still hurt and I still doubt. I don’t think that I could lie and say I don’t.

It’s hard to keep the faith when it seems like everything is going wrong. It’s hard when you’re hurting.

But today, when I was hearing the doctors say she only had a few weeks left… I was able to see through my step dads pain and harsh words towards me and see that he was hurting too. I didn’t get mad when he said upsetting things. I didn’t get hot headed and irritated. I simply understood his pain.

I let it wash over me.

This is amazing. I’m usually a hot head.

I just stared at the clouds.


Getting over ME

This morning I was not nice to my daughter. Now before you get all up in arms over this, let me explain. Last night, she did not sleep well. She went to bed later and was restless all night and woke up way too early this morning as I was leaving.

Since all of these factors were present, she was grumpy. Clingy. Whiney. Frustrating.

I wanted to take a hot shower (my first in several days), I wanted to brush my teeth and eat without having a crying baby hanging on me. Yes, that sounds terrible.

I got frustrated when she clung to me and screamed. I got irritated when she wouldn’t let me finish my hot shower. I got angry when I tried to soothe her by setting her next to me and she wanted to climb in my lap again.

I was in a hurry. I was busy.

But she was missing her momma. I had been away all day the previous day and she missed me. She’s not used to me being gone like that. She knew I was leaving this morning. She could sense it.

So I got frustrated and told her to “hush and stop crying”. Immediately, I felt like a crap parent. Mommies are not supposed to get upset, frustrated, angry, impatient… except that we do.

I was so caught up in me this morning that I didn’t take the time to quiet her fears. I was so caught up in feeling bad about everything that I just brushed her aside. I feel guilty.

I have decided to find a way to get over me. The condition of the flesh, for a more Godly perspective. I mean, how can I allow Christ’s patience, love, and empathy come through me to my daughter when I’m too busy focusing on me.

Pity party and I’m the guest of honor.

How can I comfort my mother when I’m too busy nursing my hurt feelings.

I mean, I cant. I know that it is good to deal with things and to get my mind situated on right as well, but do I have to be so consumed in myself that I cant even comfort a 1 year old child?

We are all so much like my little munchkin, crying out to God needing the comfort and wanting to be held. But we are too consumed with ourselves, rushing around and doing our own thing and we ignore the hands reaching down to us. Wanting us to lean on Him. Wanting us to rely on Him. Wanting us to love Him.

What a lesson we can learned from children.