Archive for May, 2014


When I was younger, I used to say to myself that I would make no decision that I would later regret. I was always very careful when doing anything because, God forbid, I make some kind of mistake.  

The thing about regret is that sometimes it can sneak its way into your life no matter how hard you try to keep it out. It can be difficult to keep the “what ifs” out of your mind when you start reflecting back on the choices you have made in life and where you ended up as a result.
My dad recently said something to me that struck a chord.  He said, “There is no point in feeling regret because you know that you made the choices you made with the most knowledge you had and the most time you needed to make them”.
There is a lot of truth to his statement. Looking back, my choices were thoughtful and made with great care using all the knowledge I had in front of me at the time. There is no way to know the future. We will make mistakes. We will, unintentionally, hurt other people in the process. It is because of these things that we start to feel sorry, feel regret, or even start to feel a new kind of grief. The wounds can start to feel fresh again.
So we have yet another choice; we can choose to learn, to grow and to humble ourselves in front of those we’ve hurt.
From our mistakes sprout growth, from our pain sprouts grace, from our humility sprouts forgiveness.



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Peppy came to us when she was one. She was golden brown and was called biscuit. Our dog of 6 years had just tragically died and she was in a bad home. At first, I resented her. I missed my dog that had just died and I wasn’t ready for another one. But that special “peppy” spunk stole my heart quickly. When I was going through some rough times feeling deserted and alone, peppy was there. Shortly after I moved out, my mother surprised me with the gift of keeping peppy all to my own. She loved taking night time walks and cuddling in my legs at bedtime. Her floppy ears and small frame drew others to her, but she hated everyone else. We loved Peppy’s distinct personality. She had always been a princess. When she felt sick I would stay up with her all night holding her in my arms. When she got out I would spend hours upon hours trying to catch her, this happened way too often. She was my baby. Peppy moved with us across country two times;  from Illinois to Florida, from Florida to Texas. She always had her home with me and soon after that my husband too and at different times in her life she lived with both my parents, my sisters, my in-laws, my best friend Rachael, my best friend Jamie, a snake, a lizard, two birds, A pitbull named Bridget, A collie named Maggie, a golden retriever named Toby, a dog named Panda, and for a very brief time a cat named Tucker. For 14 years Peppy was a staple in my life, the one thing that never changed, that never stopped loving me, that never left my side. She cuddled close when I was sick, crying, or on bed rest. Her sensitivity to my emotions was uncanny. If I were to describe peppy in three words it would be stubborn, sensitive, and of course peppy! She never lost that “pep” to her step, even in her old age her mobility never deteriorated. She had a “paw-ful” of people she loved dearly. She was definitely choosey when it came to whom she liked. When I was pregnant peppy would sniff my belly and when we brought our son home for the first time she sniffed him and laid next to him. Until he was mobile, Peppy acted like a nanny to him, watching him if I stepped away and laying at his side.  She was growing old in age and her health started to deteriorate little bits at a time. At the end, she was ready to go. She lived a full and happy life, and she lived beyond what was expected. I am grateful to have known her and lost her than to never have known her at all. Peppy, this is to you my love. I will forever hold you dearly to my heart and I thank you for adding spunk to my life.  I cherished your friendship and your loyalty. I love you, little pepster of mine. 


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