Before The Parade Passes By

Our Keepsake Journal is Here! 🎉

Summer in Michigan means parades are in season. Each small town and village has it’s own weekend festival complete with carnival rides, pageant queens with their courts, and parades. These festivals can be for a crop that is the main stay of the area such as mint or potatoes, or they can be a far stretch of the imagination of something to celebrate such as dandelions and red flannel underwear. It doesn’t matter what it is that’s being celebrated. We like to celebrate here and that means parades.

I don’t know what it is about parades but they make me cry. The tears start welling up as each brightly polished fire truck and ambulance slowly makes its way down main street. I try to blame it on the glare of the polish and the blare of the sirens but that really isn’t the case.

The stinging at the back of my throat really kicks in when the veterans walk by – each dressed in the best uniforms they can still fit in to. Some uniforms tight, others baggy but all worn with heads held high honoring the flag they each fought to protect. The sacrifice of these men and women humbles me to the core. The thought of those whose sacrifice was the ultimate one begins the first trickle down one cheek or the other.

High school marching bands always trigger a tightness in my chest. This year my youngest child will start his four years in marching band. It seems like only yesterday that I was in marching band with my orange and black flag, trying to avoid the trombones directly behind us. It’s been 10 years since my older sons were in marching band. I think it symbolizes to me the swiftness with which life progresses, the relentless assault of time marching us ever onward, father and farther from the past.

The final sandbag of self controlled resolve is breached by little ones daringly darting into the forbidden territory of ‘the road’, lured by the suspended rule of not picking up candy off the ground. How is it possible that my sons are all way too grown up for this act of bravery? It’s at this point that I invariably need to wipe the sunscreen out of my eyes because it must be the sunscreen that is causing them to drip uncontrollably. It couldn’t possibly be my overt sentimentality.

I pray this 4th of July weekend finds you happy, healthy, and enjoying life before the parade passes by.

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now

So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Her View Shop

4th of July small town parades

Shelley Brandon

My bio is rather complex and like most people's starts at birth, or maybe before. I was adopted as an infant by very special and very loving parents. Pretty normal and average childhood with two younger brothers. Married at 22, motherhood at 25, divorced single parent at 29. Blessed at 31 with a new chance at love and the family I'd always wanted. Eight months later two of my sons lost their mother to pneumonia. Our blended family was tossed by the waves of grief from the beginning. The waves became a tsunami when my wonderful husband died 14 years later. Grief has been my shadow for nearly 20 years now, but life is still good when you're standing in the light.

Do They Notice My Self-Doubt as a Working Mom?

In: Living, Motherhood

Woman taking a selfie in a bathroom mirror holding a coffee cup

At the office, I forget yet another small detail. Later, I am asked a simple question, something I should know the answer to, and I respond with “I don’t know” because it didn’t even occur to me to have that information on hand. I feel incapable of planning much ahead and insecure about my ability to read through the fine print. Another day of work is missed to be home with a sick baby, it’s been a difficult winter with illness striking our home, including a round of influenza for me. Meetings I was supposed to lead are covered by...

Keep Reading

Having Kids Shows Who Your Real Friends Are

In: Friendship, Motherhood

Mother and child walking through forest, color photo

Any mom, typical or special needs, will tell you having kids is the fastest way to tell who your real friends are. When your child is born with special needs this process becomes even more severe and obvious. At first, people visit and want to hold the baby, but once the delays kick in slowly people start to pull away. Disability makes them uncomfortable. That’s the truth. They hope you won’t notice, but you do. Honestly, most stop trying altogether. It’s not just friends who act this way either, sometimes it’s family too. That hurts the most. As a parent...

Keep Reading

Hello from the Other Side of 40

In: Living

Woman holding up 4 and 3 fingers on her hands

Facing 40 birthday candles? Let me tell you why your future is even brighter than those birthday cake flames, but first, I’ll also tell you—I get the big deal about turning 40. Facing that lofty milestone wasn’t fun for me. The dread started early when I was a young 37, and a sibling turned 40. I’m next! I realized, and I pouted and whined at the thought for the next three years. All of that bad behavior couldn’t keep me in my 30s though, and honestly, it left me a little embarrassed. Though this earthly tent is showing obvious signs...

Keep Reading

Why Doesn’t Anyone Talk about How Hard Adult Friendships Are?

In: Friendship, Living

Woman sitting along on couch looking at smartphone

The scary thing about friendship is it’s completely disposable. You actively choose to remain friends. It can dissolve at any time. No one can force you into it. In marriage, you are bound to one another before God. As a parent, you have a familial obligation to your child. But friendship? That comes completely free and clear. You intentionally let them in, let them see your underbelly. Your messy house. Your imperfect marriage. Your rebellious children. Your weirdness, your quirks, your sin. And they can walk away at any moment. Oh, there are a few exceptions. Maybe you work together....

Keep Reading

The Last Text I Sent Said “I Love You”

In: Friendship, Grief, Living

I’ve been saying “I love you” a lot recently. Not because I have been swept off my feet. Rather, out of a deep appreciation for the people in my life. My children, their significant others, and friends near and far. I have been blessed to keep many faithful friendships, despite the transitions we all experience throughout our lives. Those from childhood, reunited high school classmates, children of my parent’s friends (who became like family), and those I met at college, through work and shared activities. While physical distance has challenged many of these relationships, cell phones, and Facebook have made...

Keep Reading

Being a Hands-on Dad Matters

In: Kids, Living

I am a hands-on dad. I take pride in spending time with my kids. Last week I took my toddler to the park. He’s two and has recently outgrown peek-a-boo, but nothing gets him laughing like him seeing me pop into the slide to scare him as he goes down. He grew to like this so much that he actually would not go down the slide unless he saw me in his range of vision going down. When it’s time to walk in the parking lot he knows to hold my hand, and he grabs my hand instinctively when he needs help...

Keep Reading

Finding My Confidence in Learning to Enjoy Exercise

In: Living

This picture is of me, noticeably overweight, attending a silks class. This is something I’ve always wanted to do, but I looked noticeably out of place in my XL frame, compared with the other women in their size two Lululemon leggings. At one point, before we began, I actually quietly asked the instructor if there was a weight limit. She reassured me that people a lot heavier than me had hung from their ceiling on those silks. Before we started hanging from the ceiling, the instructor had us all sit in a circle and introduce ourselves and our goal for...

Keep Reading

Somewhere Between Wife and Mom, There Is a Woman

In: Living, Motherhood

Sometimes, it’s hard to remember there is a woman behind the mom. At home, you feel caught between two worlds. Mom world and wife world. Sometimes it’s hard to balance both. We don’t exactly feel sexy in our leggings and messy mom bun. We don’t feel sexy at the end of the day when we are mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted from being a mom all day. The truth is we want to feel like ourselves again. We just aren’t sure where we fit in anymore. RELATED: I Fear I’ve Lost Myself To Motherhood We know the kids only stay...

Keep Reading

Dear Mom, Until We Meet Again

In: Grown Children, Living

Daughter hugs elderly mother from behind outside

Mom, I pray to the stars that someday, somewhere we pick up where we left off. Before the Alzheimer’s diagnosis. Before your life, my life, and our family’s life changed forever. If we meet again, will you appear just as I remember you before this awful disease took over? With ebony black hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a gracious smile. Will you look at me and know I am your daughter? Will you refer to me by my beloved childhood nickname? RELATED: The One Thing Alzheimer’s Cannot Take Away Will you embrace me in a warm hug and tell me...

Keep Reading

Friendship Looks Different Now That Our Kids Are Older

In: Friendship, Living, Motherhood

Two women and their teen daughters, color photo

When my kids were young and still in diapers, my friends and I used to meet up at Chick-fil-A for play dates. Our main goal was to maintain our sanity while our kids played in the play area. We’d discuss life, marriage, challenges, sleep deprivation, mom guilt, and potty-training woes. We frequently scheduled outings to prevent ourselves from going insane while staying at home. We’d take a stroll around the mall together, pushing our bulky strollers and carrying diaper bags. Our first stop was always the coffee shop where we’d order a latte (extra espresso shot) and set it in...

Keep Reading