My Rainbow Baby

After years of loss, 3 miscarriages, foster parenting not working out….

We were given by GOD himself a second biological child. We had lost all hope, had given our dreams up of another child, and yet here he is, Hugh Callulm Barrington born January 23, 2019. His name means, Wise Mind. I had completely given up. NO hope. I had laid it down, gave all the baby items away. I LET GO in every sense of the word. I was beginning to experience a peace passing all my understanding and an acceptance that we would have only one biological child.

My RAINBOW Baby. He is really here… breathing, eating, smiling, pooping, sleeping. He is here. I can’t pinch myself enough. It is real. I am still in shock. What a gift and blessing he is as is my daughter, Remy. Both of my kids bring me such JOY!

I am truly grateful for this gift. This new season. WOW, I don’t really have the words.

Until the next story…Bethie

Grieving My Mama


Yesterday, I wrote about my super creative grandmother, Mama Kathlyn. And she is still on my mind today so I wanted to write some more about her here in this space as a part of my grieving process.

I really miss her. I continue to grieve her loss and that is ok. Grief is a process and not a one time event. I think I grieve her loss even more this year now that I have come out of the denial of my abusive past. I hadn’t realized until the last few months just how safe and special my grandmother was for me during that abusive time growing up.

Ruby was her first name, but she always went by Kathlyn. I wonder why she chose her middle name to go by. I wish I could have asked her. There are so many other questions I wish I could have asked her knowing what I do now. I suspect I am remembering her at this time because our bodies never lie. My body is reminding me that she passed away 4 years ago this month…close to Easter time, her favorite time of the year.

A silent moment for Mama…tears.

So, I am going to continue to think about her today, remember her comfort and peace, and use my gratitude to thank her for all those wonderful memories which I wrote about in yesterday’s post.

I think of her every time the wind chimes sing in the breeze from the backyard tree. The chimes are pictured above. The beautiful thing is that the tree that these chimes hang from is completely dead except for the chimes that bring this tree a bit of life.

Until tomorrow…Bethie

Creative Mama Kathlyn


I was born a creator and a creation by the Creator. I always had this creative spark in me from day one on that beautiful Monday, May 4th back in 1981. That was the day, I, Little Bethie came into this big spacious world. Creative Bethie.

However, some things happened in my childhood that squashed my creative energy along the way. That is another story in and of itself for another day.

With much support, I am finding that creative energy again. It is returning to me…

Recently, through a meditation and some guidance from an energetic sage in my life, an unveiling from my yesteryears occurred. In my formative stages, my paternal grandmother laid a creative root system for me that had been hidden away in my subconscious for all these years… until now.

As I went through this meditation, I was able to go back to being 3 or 4 years old. I visualized walking through the halls and rooms of my grandparents home. Several memories came whirling back…

Her name was Kathlyn (pronounced Cat-lynn). I called her Mama (pronounced Maw-Maw).

In my tears, the first thing I remembered was that I felt safe, nurtured, and valuable while in her precious care. I felt creative, relaxed, and always wanted to explore inside and outside her home. She granted me much permission and encouraged my exploration. Mama had time for me. She taught me how to sew and cross stitch things like pillows and how to embroider aprons. I won a 1st place ribbon at the Dixie Classic Fair one year because I entered a pillow she taught me how to make.

Her and my grandfather (Papa, pronounced Paw-Paw) had a fragrant smelling garden that they tended to and ate from. And OH my, Mama’s fried chicken, apple pie, and peach cobbler. Not only the taste of these amazing foods, but the smell of them filling the air around me fueled my joy. I will cook bacon and vegetables sometimes in my own kitchen and suddenly it smells like Mama’s kitchen. It just takes me back. So comforting! For breakfast we could have at times plain Cheerios with honey or some bacon, eggs, and biscuits. I can just smell and taste it now as I write. Oh how I miss her food.

Papa even spent some time with me ‘teaching me how to play the piano’ with his knuckles. I can still play that little song on the piano that he taught me with his strong, manly warn hands.

I would spend the night at their house sometimes and in the room that I stayed in was a big wardrobe and I would wonder…Would this wardrobe lead me to a different land like in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe?

At other times, I would sneak into Mama and Papa’s room to look at her jewelry and make-up and trying it on.

Mama loved to sing and her favorite song was the hymn “Morning has Broken.” She loved Easter time. We would die eggs, have egg hunts with my aunt, uncle, and cousins. My cousin Alison and I would laugh and giggle the day away.

She also loved flowers and she wrote poems about those precious flowers. She was a water color artist hanging her works of art around her home. Mama was a carefree, creative artist. I remember the colors, the smells, the textures, the sounds of the birds outside, the wind chimes, and most importantly the time she made for me to teach me so many wonderful things.

There were the quilts she handcrafted. The poodle skirt she made me for a dance I had. I have several treasures in my home today that she gave and passed down to me.

I remember going to magical places with Mama and Papa like Shatley Springs and drinking the magical healing water that allegedly brings health and restoration to the body. And then there was the Pollirosa Restaurant and Dance Hall which unfortunately has closed.

I could go on and on about the memories I have of my time spent with Mama and Papa, but I will stop there for now. I am reminded of her often these days especially when the wind chime rings in our yard. The picture above is of a quilt she made that I still have today.

Thanks for reading my tribute to Creative Mama Kathlyn!

Who was a safe person for you growing up? What was it like to be with that person or pet?

Until the next story…Bethie

Praying for Boredom

As I was reading recently in one of my recovery daily readers, I felt the urging of my Higher Power to try this out…. ‘Ask for boredom and see what happens’ He said. What if I prayed for boredom in my life? What might come about? My 6 year old daughter will occasionally on the weekends tell me she feels bored and I usually respond with “It is okay to feel bored.” She, of course, responds with “NO, it is not okay momma!” I, too, remember complaining about this boredom as a child. Initially, as I thought about feeling bored again, I felt scared. Do I really want to sit with my boredom feelings? Do I really want to know what might come about if I feel bored now as an adult? These are the negative fearful worries I pondered which can be were my mind goes first. However, after thinking about it some more, I wondered what positive things might happen. I wondered if it might help me stay more present in the moment with myself, my kids, my husband. Maybe in the boredom I might find more gratitude for life. Maybe I will realize my true priorities. Maybe I will even find some rest, calm, and clarity. After thinking about the positives, feeling bored sounded FUN to me. So I suppose I will have to see what happens. I am willing and open to the process. How about you? When was the last time you felt bored? And, what happened for you?

Until the next story…Bethie

A Moment Only God Could Orchestrate...

My Higher Power, whom I chose to call God, wanted to solidify what He has revealed to me lately about my late grandmother, Kathlyn. He did it in the most unexpected way. I continue to be in awe of how and what God is showing me.

I took my daughter the other day to gymnastics, it was her second class. She has been asking to go for months now and I have hesitated (that reason is a whole other story). While she was out tumbling around on the bouncy floor, I sat in the bleachers and journaled about the memories that have recently come back to me about my own grandmother. And the most miraculous thing happened.

There was an older woman sitting behind me. She had gray hair, glasses, and a yellow with green writing visitor tag from a school she had probably visited earlier in the day. It was after school hours and I noticed that she was reading the newspaper and watching a young boy beside her. He was playing store with pretend money that he had made from paper. I was a bit annoyed at first trying to journal about my memories with my grandmother, but something in me said ‘pay attention’ to what this lady was saying. I did. While I can’t tell you all the things the young child said, I began to notice how this lady was responding to this child. She told him he was sweet and kind. She used words like please and thank you with him. She played along with him as he was the cashier and salesman of his store. He even decided to give her some free items and then convinced her to purchase a Christmas tree for the upcoming holiday season. Wholeheartedly, she was engaged with him and his creation of this store.

What I became aware of in those moments that followed for the next hour was that she spoke to him with such respect, kindness, and gentleness that I rarely see in our world today. She was listening to him, joining him in his creativity, and showing him love in her actions and words. She was patient, kind, and loving. She was making time for him. This was a picture, a modern day real live picture of what my grandmother did for me as a young child. God wanted me to remember and I did.

I had to say something, anything to this lady. My heart was pounding, I wanted her to know how much in these moments she had encouraged me. She had given me hope that there are still people in the world who are kind to children. Who was this beauty of a woman?

I did just that…as my daughter finished up her gymnastics class, I spoke to this woman. I thanked her for speaking so kindly and patiently with this child. I wanted to thank her because in a way I was thanking my own grandmother which I did not get a chance to do before she died. I told her that she gave me hope. And she told me with joy and gratitude glimmering in her eyes that this was her grandson. He had to have been around 4 or 5 years old. What a gift to have such a delightful grandmother at such a formative age…the very same thing I had in my grandmother at around the same age as this boy. She is laying a lasting foundation with her actions just like my grandmother did for me.

I am filled, no overflowing with gratitude for this God moment. God works in big, small, and unexpected ways and He continues to do so in my life. God presented an opportunity on this day to thank my very own grandmother, Kathlyn, by vicariously being able to thank this lovely woman. I could never have orchestrated this moment…only God.

Until the next story…Beth