Author R.A. Bridges, Corrie's Mom
"For the Beauty of the Earth" was always a hymn that could calm me. No matter how I felt at church, or if I was coming out of a nap as a young child during service, this song calmed me. It gave my mind an instant image of nature in every geography. I could pictures… Continue reading For the Beauty
Parents, like me, know all about learning opportunities. We experience them each second, minute, hour, day, night, month and year. Oh, my dear, we know the lessons well. We never ask for them. We never request to join a school of thought, nor wish this club’s type of exclusivity on any other. We experience our lessons in nature when the birds chirp, yet hear no shriek of excitement, or “Mom, how you doing?” We have learning opportunities we never sought, and knowledge we never wished to gain.
Mask 1 hides the bereaved mother screaming inside. She asks, “Why am I still alive?” but I tuck her down deep, even put her to sleep, so she will not speak all that is one her mind. "Shhh … little momma, don’t you cry" although your daughter is not alive.
I try, with time, to become a better photographer. I feel as though I fail in capturing the beauty I witness on the farm, specifically in the morning or at sunset. I hope to share different themes or journeys we make as our growing season of 2024 takes off.
Bright Easter theme colors show around Corrie's Butterfly Garden with the Phlox and Dianthus in blossom. Holidays are never straight forward. They mean something different to everyone. In my gut, I know it's the fourth Easter without Corrie. This is a marker, which never goes away. Holidays, for some, are wearing bright colored, checkered shirts… Continue reading Easter Thoughts on Corrie, Gardens, and Family
Born with a different kind of mind– and not the etch-a-sketch kind with the straight edges and directions to flow–is like sitting on the steps of the shallow end without a clue of how to swim or where to go.
I think Corrie would feel proud. She might not say it.
There are days when you long for the waves to rush over your feet, and you discover the kind of days made for digging in garden dirt as sweat pours down your face, and you believe you recognize the signs of happiness again after you've known darkness of the darkest kind.
I cut back the rose bush, and dug up a plant I learned was invasive in the Butterfly Garden. I had no issue performing on a stage in middle and high school. Unaware of the neurological diagnosis suggested when I was four and five-years-old, I lacked a shy filter, just as I did a social… Continue reading In the Bright Lights
It drove my second grade teacher Mrs. Rewis crazy if a student said, "a hundred" or "a thousand" because these weren't precise numbers. A student could say, "one hundred," and this is accurate. But some stories don't possess an exact number ...
The year, 2023, provided the most positive growth since Corrie's death because I grew in confidence after witnessing what I'd accomplished in the gardens. We went from one garden to three in 2023, along with island gardens. The result is now I have a vision for gardens everywhere on the property, and John has helped me plan them, along with officially naming the farm, "Corrie's Retreat."
Traditionally, winter appears as a quiet time for any gardener, but it’s more like the kid at the back of the classroom waving their hand because they’re certain they have the answer. For whatever reason, the teacher doesn’t call on this student. The student has a lot to say answering the question you ask. A garden… Continue reading Gardens in Winter
It's a misconception that I never dance nor sing because I sang to you again on Christmas Eve as you would ask of me.
Each year, we honor Corrie’s birthday in a small celebration with friends.
A video reflection of Corrie before her ninth birthday in her Arendelle Garden.
A fire.
But what was truly beautiful included how he recognized our growth as a family when he said last night: "Who would've thought we'd decorate again; that you'd go to this extent to put up lights [for Christmas]?"
When I consider the message of Thanksgiving, a lot of words fill my mind and heart for what I wish others to know and feel.
On an autumn day, if you're going through Shelby, North Carolina; a greenhouse sits on a hill off the road.
By the age of six, a person with autism will experience more negative interactions compared with other children.
There was never a flower, wild or not, our daughter failed to love.
I’ve often thought that if there is a space on Earth which most resembles heaven, it’s the Blue Ridge Parkway, or … the former Christmas tree farm my husband inherited.
I guess you didn't know when you wrote your opinion that I woke up at 4:30 a.m. to once again take my husband to the hospital one more time. One more time and one more surgery. I don't suppose you know the smile I show is one of weight I've learned to lift. At times,… Continue reading Karen, I Deserve an Academy Award
Remember, those sweet honeybees don't know me. A sparkling sassiness has overtaken the sarcasm, which was always a part of my personality. It's an attitude of: "Honey, if you don't like it, there's the door. The beautiful thing about the door is that you can fit through it and I can shut it."
I debated within myself whether I'd share this poem, I Still Believe in Rainbows and Stars, for multiple reasons. It's multilayered with connections to Corrie and other topics, and like several of the poems I'm currently writing, deep in processing what the US is witnessing as a nation.
But I do believe what was in the dark will come to light.
If you'd ask me to imagine life 20 years ago, the plans I'd made would fail to match real events. I would never want to picture: - losing a child, - a tornado destroying parts of our home, - a miscarriage, - or nearly losing a spouse to colon cancer. I'd never imagined those events… Continue reading “Here Comes the Sun”
Often, from our darkest spaces, and our most vulnerable moments comes a light we can choose to cast on a small section of the world.
We are not forever cast to the darkness, nor would our children here, in heaven, wished for, wondered about, or mothers we miss or worry for want us to exist there.
One isn't weak because they break from the storm set to take the love you won’t forsake. Harsh words reflect shadows we cannot shake.
When you sing at twilight, of whom do you think?
I remember sitting at the breakfast table across from her laundry machine, and I'd watch the sunrise hit the lake as the ducks came near the wooden swing. You'd have to get up early enough because the ducks were gone by mid to late morning.
We all have dreams for our children. I've often seen them symbolized in Cherry Blossom Trees
Growing up, I laughed at the thought of working in any garden. I believed that I possessed a brown thumb. Evening in Corrie's Butterfly Garden, also known as the Main Garden. Yet, the earliest lesson I remember from my teacher happened in second grade. Ironically, that was year I was officially diagnosed with attention deficit… Continue reading Growing in Grief Through Gardens
Should I lose my way, I'll look to the gardens. I'll not look to the sky.
When the first cherry blossoms, I feel her kiss my check.
We named the new garden Arendelle, after John, my husband, recommended calling it the North Garden. It honors Corrie's love of Frozen.
Bloom not too early, but bloom not too late.
Know your truth in all things. Be not afraid. Should they say, "I have castles upon the land," reply, "But I possess the heart from the lion's den."
John and our son, Hayes, during a visit to the beach. I loved him then. I love him now. I loved him when his mother died. I loved him when he became a father-leader. I loved him when his father died. I loved him when the tornado came. I loved him when COVID hit. I… Continue reading A Forever Kind of Love
When I see the daffodils, I spot her run behind the trees.
Throughout these two-and-half years (three years this May) after Corrie earned her wings, and during which John battled stage 3 colon cancer, we've had many stories from Corrie's garden, to Hayes' growth, in education and with us. Another part involves LEGO.
I know why the angels sing.
I wrote all of this for our son, so he knows there is life after darkness. There is growth after frost. There are people who love, and those who do not.
Who am I to debate over whether you can really put your hand in the ultra violet rays, or to say, "The rainbow never existed anyway."
You know there's rumors going 'round about Eddie. Some say he left his now adult daughters and never returned. Others say he planned to pick them up, but went skiing instead. Didn't you hear the rumors going 'round about Eddie? They, maybe a daughter or two, say he left them on the front porch, and… Continue reading Rumors about Eddie
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Corrie's Season 