Love

Happy Easter Everyone.

I know that things can be tough, but we are strong collectively. Life is not easy and what we are all going through, our journey, it matters. I wish you all the best today and take a moment to yourself to reflect on the things you have been blessed with.

Whatever your faith is. God Bless You. I wish you love and happiness.

#Love
#Happiness
#MentalHealth
#BipolarDisorder
#BipolarIIDisorder
#PanicDisorder
#PanicAttacks
#AnxietyDisorders

I feel like time is slipping through my hands, and I am overwhelmed by the fear that I will never be able to love or be loved in the way I truly desire. I feel trapped and depleted in my current environment, and it's making me feel as though my life and my potential are passing me by while I remain invisible to those around me #tired #MentalHealth #depressed #Anxiety #Love

I didn’t plan on bringing home another betta.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t, not after Papi.

Papi was fiesta and fire,

all color, attitude, and confidence.

He filled the space with personality,

tiny but impossible to ignore.

When he was gone,

the silence felt too big to fill.

I told myself never again.

And then there was Echo.

His water was cloudy,

his fins dull and tired,

but when I saw him, he looked right at me.

There were others, brighter and flashier,

but I couldn’t walk away from him.

Something about that moment felt familiar,

like being chosen back.

He wasn’t Papi’s flame.

He was the warmth that remained after the fire—

gentle, steady, soft.

Maybe that’s what love does when it returns.

It doesn’t shout this time;

it simply shows up.

Now Echo swims in clear water,

calm and curious,

watching the world the way I watch him.

Papi was fire.

Echo is calm water.

Both found me

when I needed them most.

#Rescue #Fish #Beta #Love #Grief #MentalHealth #betafish #newbeginings

A mother’s love is something that doesn’t come with instructions. It grows inside of you the moment you hold your child, and it never stops—no matter what life throws your way.

As a mother of seven, I know this truth in the deepest way. My children have been my greatest joy and my greatest teachers. They’ve taught me patience, strength, forgiveness, and above all—unconditional love. Even when life became heavy with struggles, even when I doubted myself, even when I felt broken, the one thing that never left me was the love I had for my kids.

There were days when I wasn’t sure how I would make it through, times when guilt and shame whispered that I wasn’t enough. But even in those moments, my children were the reason I kept fighting. A mother’s love doesn’t stop when she’s tired. It doesn’t quit when life gets hard. It keeps showing up—through tears, through prayers, through late nights of worry and early mornings of hope.

As a mother, I’ve learned that love isn’t just about holding your child when things are good. It’s about loving them when they’re hurting, when they’re angry, when they’re pushing you away, and even when life’s battles—addiction, mental illness, pain—make everything feel impossible. My love for my children has been tested in ways I never thought I’d survive, but it never left.

There were nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering if I was enough. Times I felt guilt heavy on my chest, questioning every decision. Days I worried that my struggles might overshadow the love I carried inside me. But here’s what I know now: my children have always been my reason to keep going. Even in my darkest moments, the love I had for them was my anchor.

A mother’s love is fierce. It forgives when the world says not to. It believes when no one else does. It sacrifices without keeping score. And sometimes it means standing back and letting your child find their own way, even when every part of you wants to protect them.

Now, as a grandmother, I see love come full circle. Watching my granddaughter grow reminds me that a mother’s love passes down through generations. It’s in the way we hold our babies, the way we speak life into them, the way we never give up—even when the world tells us to.

If you are a mother walking through hard times—please know, you are not alone. Your love is enough, even when you feel broken. And if you are someone’s child, remember this: your mother’s love runs deeper than you’ll ever fully understand.

A mother’s love is not perfect. It’s messy, it’s raw, it’s full of mistakes and lessons learned the hard way. But it is also the most powerful force I’ve ever known. It heals, it forgives, it carries us through storms.

To every mother out there—your love matters. Even when you feel unseen, even when you feel like you’ve failed, your love is shaping lives in ways you can’t always see. And to every child—know that your mother’s love runs deeper than you’ll ever truly understand.

Because a mother’s love never dies. It is endless, timeless, and unshakable.

Bigmommaj
#Parenting #Love #Unconditional

What is a pack? A hierarchy of the same group of animals. One in charge above all.

What is a family? A line of the same sort. There’s always one in charge while the others follow around.

What happens when a wounded pup is found? An abandoned animal? Neglect, passing by, nature shows us a multitude of things.

Typically it’s the mothering type that bring them in, clean them off, nurture and love them.

How often is it the father?

What it becomes in theory is a ‘family’.

A pack.

Big and little.

A family by all accounts, something positive and good. Strong in faith and loyalty, ties.

What becomes of the unit when it’s fractured though?

Pieces displaced by history and time.

The family I speak of, the family I remember, it started all with a little Mexican woman with a cooler of beers in the kitchen, dancing at the stove with whoever was in her reach. Her fingers twisted at awkward angles but if you took the spatula from her, god help you.

Through this woman the love passed on in her line, even to the stray pup that was brought inside.

Somewhere along the years of memories and grief, it broke. The new speaker tried to over rule who was who; get rid of the memories of the pup all together.

With his pups along side him.

The three who mourned her passing too.

And the line? Oh, an ode to the line- he may be yours but by law and justice, in the eyes of God almighty we belong to him too.

In a world so cruel and harsh it would push out a child, deny him, starve him, neglect him- to be placed directly in the path of the alpha, hand delivered by God himself.

/Remember his word. You’re not here because of spirituality, HE called you here./

How could you be so cruel to ostracize him while the man who brought him in, ordered by God, is lying in a hospital stuck in the state he is.

’Like arrows in the hand of the warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them.’

He may be yours by blood but he is our by teaching, by love, and the legacy of sacrifice.

Years before our own pack was formed, before he added the ones currently in his life-

’Little’ was the first one there.

‘Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me and whoever receives me, receives not me but he who sent me.’

I don’t deny your lineage.

I don’t deny the history that was built between you- them- him.

So don’t deny our lives.

One of the reasons we’re here today.

He gave him that piece first.

He gave him your last name.

That pup, now grown, an alpha on his own, he passed it to us.

He is just as much ours as he is yours.

I see you praying in the hallway.

I hear you praying over him.

Bile rises in my throat at the waves of hypocrisy that roll off of you.

We are here today because of God and the decisions, the choices he laid directly in the path of the son who’s mother had the crooked hands.

I mean no disrespect towards the line but whether YOU like it or not, we’re apart of it.

I want to remind you, STAR, it started with them. It started with us. I may not be given the official title but I hold it proudly in my heart.

The first grandchild.

My name given to me by my parents, my middle name inspired by him.

Maria, forever tying me to my Mexican roots.

I don’t know what’s going to happen, only God does.

His eyes may open, he could turn us away, but too many visitors we were NOT.

“The evil tongue is a flattering tongue that will speak fair to one’s face but will defame- ‘He that hateth dissembleth with his lips.’

You can say what you want but his name is on that paper, his hand signed it. That can’t be undone.

History and pain aside, the stories, you can’t change any of it.

The foundation of our family was laid on the god given words woven into their lives which in turn, attached our square to yours.

‘Big’

‘Little’

You can’t erase it.

No matter what is said, what is done, that’s what they’re known by.

Loyalty isn’t just standing at his side and praying to the God that brought us here, the one you’re willing to ignore.

Loyalty is being there through it all and standing by his side praying, the nails of their monsters having grown over their shoulders, asking for him to come back and open his eyes to say

“I love you” just one last time.

#Family #Familydrama #Faith #healingthroughwriting #lettertotheline #loyalty #Love #hegaveushisname