My Little Angel

I feel like I should say this before I tell you my story. I know that most of my current writings are about grief, loss and the hard knocks of life. Sometimes I write happy stuff, but lately life has been real hard. When it is like that, the grief comes back. It is a cathartic type of release to write it out. On one hand I feel as though I should apologize for it; yet on the other it's my reality. So, if you are looking for froofy, happy stories look elsewhere. This my voice for now. Hopefully it will change soon. If it helps someone to read it, give God the credit, not me. Here goes...

My Little Angel 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/27/19

My attention span is short so I rarely watch a television movie all the way through. However, last night I stumbled upon a movie called The Coat of Many Colors about Dolly Parton. During the movie there was scene where Dolly's mother gave birth to her little brother too early and he did not survive. During this part of the movie a song was playing that Dolly wrote called Angel Hill. It was about the hope of a soon coming child and the sorrow of losing him. Sometimes I hear a song for the first time and it evokes deep emotions and memories that are hidden far inside my heart. This song was one of them. 

The song took me back to when I was 18 years old. I had been married a few months to my first husband. I found out I was pregnant and I was so excited. Back then we did not have DNA tests or ultrasounds. You could not find out what you were having but I always knew in my heart that I was carrying a little boy. I was still young and full of hope for our future. Life had not kicked my teeth in....yet.

About 3 months into the pregnancy I lost my little boy. Miscarriages were not talked about in that day. They just did a D & C and sent you home. I will never forget the hollow, broken feeling I had inside. My husband moved us out of town to live with his parents. I think he hoped a change of scenery would help me. We had a bedroom upstairs. I hid there and rarely came out for anything. The sorrow and despair was so deep I could not move. It seemed like I was there for years but I know it was only a month or so. It felt like a deep darkness overtook me. No one spoke to me about my baby, not even my husband. It felt like the whole world wanted me to forget him, suck it up and move on but I did not know how.

One day, my mom came into town. Her mother's instinct had kicked in. She just knew something was wrong and she came to check on me. I was in bed, running a fever. She rushed me to the doctor. I guess I had just been so depressed I did not realize how sick I was. I had a kidney infection. My mom did her best to get me well and went home. 

Soon after that, someone gave me a little kitten that needed to be bottle fed. They found it abandoned and alone. At about the same time, we managed to get our own apartment. Every 2 hours I would get up and feed this tiny kitten. She gave me a sense of purpose and it made me get out of bed. I named her Tina after my best friend in school as a child. I would sit and hold little Tina wrapped in a blanket and cry. I told her everything no one else wanted to hear. She eventually grew up, but in those few weeks of nurturing her she helped me climb out of the pit of sorrow. She was my best friend for her entire life. It always amazes me how God has used animals so many times in my life to love me and teach me things.

A few months later I got pregnant again. I held my breath inside the whole time I was pregnant, until I heard my son Sedrick cry. He truly was and still is my oil of joy just like his son Michael is to him and his momma now. Life went on and I had my daughter Alicia a few years later but I never forgot the little boy I lost. 

I have always called my first son my little angel. It was about this time of year that I lost him. That explains the sadness that has been gnawing so much at my heart lately. I long deeply to see his face and hug him when I get to Heaven some day. I do not sit around in deep sorrow anymore about him, but he is always there. He is a part of me and for me, he was alive inside me and still is in my heart. It is a love only a mother can understand. 

This song, Angel Hill is about the place Dolly's little brother was buried. For me, Angel Hill is a place deep in my heart where my little angel lives. It is also a place in Heaven where we will meet again.

Oh, my little angel! You are alive in my heart forever and never forgotten. I will meet you on Angel Hill some day.

I love you more,

Momma 💜

Watch "Alyvia Alyn Lind and Dolly Parton Singing Angel Hill Live on Home & Family, May 31, 2016" on YouTube

https://youtu.be/F9J15walujY

Dressing Zoey

I started writing this on 12/23/19 but I thought it fitting to post it on Christmas. So, get a cup of coffee or hot chocolate and read what is in my heart because it is all I have to give this Christmas. 

Dressing Zoey

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/23/19

Lately, my life has been a chaotic mess. My husband almost died right in front of me a couple weeks ago. My birthday was right after that and it sucked. We had plumbing problems at our house the other day. Then, today has been totally hectic. I have been trying to sort out last minute Christmas details with my daughter and got nowhere. To top it all off, the radiator hose on my car busted. This evening I felt like my whole world was falling down around me.

I stumbled into bed earlier and my husband was watching a movie about the life of Christ and the crucifixion. I laid there and watched it. There was a scene toward the end that really pierced my heart. It was when Mary Magdalene was cleaning and dressing Jesus's body after they pulled Him down from the cross.

This scene took me back to a moment in my life with my little granddaughter Zoey. Zoey was born at 18 weeks gestation. She lived 11 minutes. In those few moments I saw her spirit. It was indescribably beautiful; yet it was horrible because I knew she was not long for this world. 

After Zoey went on to the arms of Jesus, her mother begged me to find a white dress for her. So, I bolted out of the hospital and drove all over town searching for a tiny, white dress for Zoey. I drove, looked and cried for what felt like days even though it was only a few hours. Finally, I happened to see a sign that said "Kathleen's Toys" on it. Kathleen is my middle name so I decided stop in. I explained to lady at the counter that I needed a little, white dress to bury my beloved granddaughter in. She showed me a dress for a newborn baby. I explained that it was way too big and told her how tiny Zoey was. She sadly told me she had nothing that small in stock. 

Just as I was walking out the door of the store a tiny doll dressed as a bride in a beautiful white dress caught my eye. It was in the back corner on the bottom shelf of a glass display case right by the door. I stopped in my tracks and called the store clerk over. She was just as surprised as I was because she did not remember having that doll. It just so happened that the price was exactly the amount of money I had to spend down to the penny. I know to this day that one of God's angels put that there for Zoey.

I returned to the hospital with the dress. When I got there I am sure everyone was there somewhere but here is what I remember. Zoey's mother was still holding her wrapped in a little blanket. Zoey's great grandmother Barbara was there too. I showed them the dress I had found. Zoey's mother burst out in tears and said it was perfect and everything she imagined. 

I had not expected to be involved in dressing Zoey but there I was with Zoey's mother and her great grandmother. It was as if Zoey had asked God to have the two of us dress her. In my entire life I have never faced such a daunting task. I looked at Barbara and knew she was overwhelmed too. Yet, we both knew what a sacred and holy thing it was that we were about to do. 

We had to be extremely careful while dressing Zoey because her skin was so delicate and her tiny bones so brittle that one wrong move would have been disastrous to any already heart crushing day. The whole time we were slowly and gently dressing Zoey I was praying in the spirit under my breath. I felt the hands of the Holy Spirit guiding me and Barbara every minuscule step of the way. The dress fit perfectly as if it were tailor made just for Zoey. She looked like an angel in it and I know I heard Heaven rejoice once we were finished.

So, tonight I was watching this scene in the show of Mary Magdalene dressing Jesus in His burial clothes. I thought how He knew the whole time she was following Him during His time on earth that she would be the one that was chosen to dress Him for burial. I can only imagine how she must have felt and the love she must have had for Him. I am by no means as precious as Mary Magdalene, not by any stretch. However, it was that same great love that Mary had for Jesus and I had for Zoey that gave me the strength to dress her. It called to my mind the even greater love that Jesus had for us all.

Most days I am a bumbling mess stumbling through life like a bull in China closet. I cannot see the forest for all the trees, let alone know what to do or which way to turn. That is exactly where I am right now. Yet, God, ever so lovingly in His own way, stops me in my tracks and reminds me of the things He has brought me through and the Holy, sacred moments that He has used me in spite of my imperfections in doing something as beautiful as dressing Zoey. He also showed me once again the greatest gift of love He has ever given us is His son. 

I am finishing this story on Christmas day. I have had better Christmas days. This one is quiet and lonely and I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I am reminded of the tremendous, never ending love my Abba Father has for me and us all in the gift He gave us in Jesus. I am also forever grateful for the other gift He gave me, a messed up bag of bones grandma in being blessed in dressing Zoey. 

So to my granddaughter Zoey, my grandson Michael AJ and a host of others in Heaven...you are the most blessed because you are there with Jesus rocking His house for his birthday! Dance, Zoey dance!!

To my family and friends here on earth with me, I love you more than I know how to say and miss you so much my heart hurts. We will celebrate together again some day. 

Merry Christmas!!

Missing Jesus

I did not write this but I wish I had it's a beautiful story. Just what I needed. My life is a mess right now and I needed to be reminded that Jesus is still with working things out.

Missing Jesus

Author unknown

About a week before Christmas a family bought a new nativity scene. When they unpacked it they found 2 figures of the baby Jesus. "Someone must have packed this wrong," the mother said, counting out the figures. "We have one Joseph, one Mary, three wise men, three shepherds, two lambs, a donkey, a cow, an angel and two babies. Oh, dear! I suppose some set down at the store is missing a baby Jesus because we have 2."
"You two run back down to the store and tell the manager that we have an extra Jesus. Tell him to put a sign on the remaining boxes saying that if a set is missing a baby Jesus, call 7126. Put on your warm coats, it's freezing cold out there."

The manager of the store copied down mother's message and the next time they were in the store they saw the cardboard sign that read, "If you're missing baby Jesus, call 7126." All week long they waited for someone to call. Surely, they thought, someone was missing that important figurine. Each time the phone rang mother would say, "I'll bet that's about Jesus," but it never was.

Father tried to explain there are thousands of these scattered over the country and the figurine could be missing from a set in Florida or Texas or California. Those packing mistakes happen all the time. He suggested just put the extra Jesus back in the box and forget about it.

"Put baby Jesus back in the box! What a terrible thing to do," said the children. "Surely someone will call," mother said. "We'll just keep the two of them together in the manger until someone calls.

When no call had come by 5:00 on Christmas Eve, mother insisted that father "just run down to the store" to see if there were any sets left. "You can see them right through the window, over on the counter," she said. "If they are all gone, I'll know someone is bound to call tonight."
"Run down to the store?" father thundered. "It's 15 below zero out there!"

"Oh, Daddy, we'll go with you," Tommy and Mary began to put on their coats. Father gave a long sigh and headed for the front closet. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. Tommy and Mary ran ahead as father reluctantly walked out in the cold. Mary got to the store first and pressed her nose up to the store window. "They're all gone, Daddy," she shouted. "Every set must be sold."
"Hooray," Tommy said. "The mystery will now be solved tonight!"

Father heard the news still a half block away and immediately turned on his heel and headed back home. When they got back into the house they noticed that mother was gone and so was the extra baby Jesus figurine. "Someone must have called and she went out to deliver the figurine," my father reasoned, pulling off his boots. "You kids get ready for bed while I wrap mother's present."

Then the phone rang. Father yelled "answer the phone and tell 'em we found a home for the baby Jesus." But it was mother calling with instructions for us to come to 205 Chestnut Street immediately, and bring three blankets, a box of cookies and some milk. "Now what has she gotten us into?" my father groaned as we bundled up again. "205 Chestnut. Why that's across town. Wrap that milk up good in the blankets or it will turn to ice before we get there. Why can't we all just get on with Christmas? It's probably 20 below out there now. And the wind is picking up. Of all the crazy things to do on a night like this."

When they got to the house at 205 Chestnut Street it was the darkest one on the block. Only one tiny light burned in the living room and, the moment we set foot on the porch steps, my mother opened the door and shouted, "They're here, Oh thank God you got here, Ray! You kids take those blankets into the living room and wrap up the little ones on the couch. I'll take the milk and cookies."
"Would you mind telling me what is going on, Ethel?" my father asked. "We have just walked through below zero weather with the wind in our faces all the way."
"Never mind all that now," my mother interrupted. "There isn't any heat in this house and this young mother is so upset she doesn't know what to do. Her husband walked out on her and those poor little children will have a very bleak Christmas, so don't you complain. I told her you could fix that oil furnace in a jiffy."
My mother strode off to the kitchen to warm the milk while my brother and I wrapped up the five little children who were huddled together on the couch. The children's mother explained to my father that her husband had run off, taking bedding, clothing, and almost every piece of furniture, but she had been doing all right until the furnace broke down.

"I been doin' washin' and ironin' for people and cleanin' the five and dime," she said. "I saw your number every day there, on those boxes on the counter. When the furnace went out, that number kept going' through my mind. 7162...7162. Said on the box that if a person was missin' Jesus, they should call you. That's how I knew you were good Christian people, willin' to help folks. I figured that maybe you would help me, too. So I stopped at the grocery store tonight and I called your misses. I'm not missin' Jesus, mister, because I sure love the Lord. But I am missin' heat. I have no money to fix that furnace."

"Okay, Okay," said father. "You've come to the right place. Now let's see. You've got a little oil burner over there in the dining room. Shouldn't be too hard to fix. Probably just a clogged flue. I'll look it over, see what it needs."
Mother came into the living room carrying a plate of cookies and warm milk. As she set the cups down on the coffee table, I noticed the figure of baby Jesus lying in the center of the table. It was the only sign of Christmas in the house. The children stared wide-eyed with wonder at the plate of cookies my mother set before them.
Father finally got the oil burner working but said, "You need more oil. I'll make a few calls tonight and get some oil. Yes sir, you came to the right place", father grinned.

On the way home father did not complain about the cold weather and had barely set foot inside the door when he was on the phone. "Ed, hey, how are ya, Ed?"
"Yes, Merry Christmas to you, too. Say Ed, we have kind of an unusual situation here. I know you've got that pick-up truck. Do you still have some oil in that barrel on your truck? You do?"
By this time the rest of the family were pulling clothes out of their closets and toys off of their shelves. It was long after their bedtime when they were wrapping gifts. The pickup came. On it were chairs, three lamps, blankets and gifts. Even though it was 30 below, father let them ride along in the back of the truck. No one ever did call about the missing figure in the nativity set, but as I grow older I realize that it wasn't a packing mistake at all.

Jesus saves, that's what He does.

Grandpa Shelby

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

12/20/19

What do I say about a man that was always around, busy doing something, yet quiet for the most part? He worked as a switchman for the Sand Springs Railroad and retired from it. He worked evenings and lived right across the street from the tracks. When we were kids we would always run out to the porch to wave at him when the train made it's way from Sand Springs to downtown Tulsa in the evening. He was always there, hanging on the side of the train to wave at us. We all looked forward to it.

I have heard stories of him being an angry drunk in his younger years but I never knew that part of him. When I got sober at 23 years old, one day he sat me down and said, "Andi, I don't know anything about this A-A-and A thing you're doing but don't stop if it's keeping you sober. I'm proud of you." Then he told about his own redemption story. Many years before he had heart problems and had to get a pacemaker put in. Back then they were new and it was a risky surgery. He told me the night before surgery he said a prayer and made a deal with God. If he made it through the surgery he promised God he would stop drinking, go to church and change his ways. He lived and never drank again. That was one of the few deep conversations I had with him and I remember it like it was yesterday. I will treasure it forever.

My grandpa did not attend church every Sunday but went as much as he could. He was always doing things like tithing and donating to others. He would give the shirt off his back to help someone. I always knew that his home was a safe place to run to when I needed shelter from life's storms. There was always a hot cup of Taster's Choice instant coffee to drink and food to eat, and a place to sleep no questions asked. As I grew in my sobriety I started to understand, he did the things he did because it was all part of the promise he made to God; but even more out of gratitude for the life he got to live.

My grandfather and grandmother ran a concession business. I grew up riding around in the sno cone truck with my grandpa. He would buy blocks of ice and grind the ice himself. This was before icemakers. The day he got a crushed icemaker was a big day! My grandmother made the sno cone syrup, cotton candy, caramel and candy apples and popcorn balls to sell. My grandpa also sold cotton candy and balloons at all the Christmas parades in this region. Everyone knew him as the sno cone man or cotton candy man.

He was the ultimate salesman. One Saturday in the winter, they needed money for food. It was snowing hard. He had me go with him to sell sno cones. I told him he was crazy, no one would buy a sno cone in this weather! Sure enough, he pulled to this one neighborhood, turned on his music and sold enough to buy groceries. That's why I always say he could sell anything, even sno cones in a snow storm! My son had that gift of selling too.

We never did without, even in the hardest times. I remember one time he went to an auction and brought home so many pairs of shoes that it filled a bedroom. There were all sizes from kids to adults and many styles. None of us went without shoes for a long time. I remember one Christmas he and grandma bought us all bicycles. The two of them were far from perfect but they always gave what they could to take care of us all the best they could.

It is funny the things we remember about someone. My grandfather was like a gentle giant to me. He never said much and he moved in a slow, kind of clumsy way. He always asked me to tie his shoes because it was too hard for him. He always taped his fingers because they cracked. In his later years he had Parkinson's but it never slowed him down. One of my fondest memories of him was when I was about 7 or 8 years old. He was at my house visiting and there was music playing. He jumped up, grabbed me and danced me around the room like Fred Astaire! Who knew he could dance like that?!

The older I get the more I understand how fortunate I was to have my grandparents around so much. All 4 of them planted seeds of wisdom in me that are still with me today.

Today is my grandpa Shelby's birthday. December 20th, 10 days after mine. We shared December birthdays just like I share with my little grandson Michael now. I hope to be as awesome to my grandchildren as my grandpa Shelby was to me. Happy birthday grandpa! Kiss my grandbabies that are in Heaven with you for me. I love and miss you!! Your little Andi. 💜

Brag About God

This was in response to a post my daughter-in-love put on Facebook asking others to brag about God (see pic) 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

12/19/19

Well...where do I start? If God had not rescued me when I prayed at the foot of my bed over 33 years ago I would have died from alcoholism and addiction. I would have missed out on raising my two beautiful children Sedrick Zelsnack and Alicia Zelsnack. I would have missed out on all the friendships I've had. I would have missed out on taking care of my grandmother during her fight with cancer and saying my final goodbye to her. I would have missed out on rebuilding my relationship with my dad Elmer Tadpole Jr and my mother Alice Tarrant. The years I've had with them are one of my greatest treasures. I would have missed seeing all my granddaughters come to this world and watch them grow and mature. I would have missed out on meeting you Victoria Zelsnack. You are a beautiful young woman and awesome mother. Last but certainly not least I would've missed out on welcoming your beautiful son and my precious grandson Michael to this world. This last year with him has been the indescribably awesome oil of joy for my old and tired heart. This is just a small list of all God has done for me. I could go on forever about the grace and mercy He has given me although I was and am so undeserving. Merry Christmas my beautiful daughter-in-love!! 💜💜💜

Thoughts

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

December 14, 2019

I have been sitting here for a while listening to praise and worship music. I have been trying settle mind and soothe my heart. I have been through alot this last week. I have had to keep it all together and its finally hitting me. The tears are rolling, the dam had broken and I cannot stop them. I hate it when I cry because I feel like I am weak. Yet I know if I just let it flow God has a way of healing me through the tears.

I will try to make sense of my thoughts and ramblings but I cannot promise anything. They are a jumbled up mess right now. So, please bare with me as I share my heart.

Last Friday my husband and I attended the funeral of a family friend three hours away. She was only 51 years old and just fell asleep one night and did not wake up. She was younger than me and it really hit me hard. It reminded me again of the frailty of life and not taking things and people you love for granted. The holidays are hard for me because too many of my loved ones have passed on. I do not know why, but this year my heart aches for them worse than ever. 

The funeral of our friend was beautiful. I know that it sounds weird to describe it that way but it was beautiful. I felt the Holy Spirit rain down on us like I have never felt before. The music was amazing and I swear I heard angels singing along with us.

While we were singing I saw a vision of our friend, my loved ones and countless others in Heaven singing and dancing before God's throne. I was in awe. As much as I miss my loved ones I would not wish them back here in this crazy world even if I could. They are at God's throne, healthy, at peace and whole. What more could one want?

We came straight home from the funeral. A couple of hours later my husband got sick and was transported by ambulance to the hospital. I followed in my car. I got back to the ER room he was in just as a group of nurses and doctors were cutting off his shirt. The monitor showed a flat line. They were getting ready to put the paddles on his chest and he came back at the last minute. I stood there watching this man that I love so deeply nearly die. It was the most horrible feeling to know that I was helpless to do anything. All I could was pray and believe me, I prayed.

The hospital was jam packed and there were no regular hospital rooms available. The hallways of the ER were lined with sick people on gurneys and in wheelchairs all waiting for a room. At least we had a room in ER where I could close the doors. I shoved a couple of folding chairs together and tried to sleep a little. 

We were in ER for two nights waiting on a regular room. I was exhausted and my back was aching with pain by the second night. I was to the point I could not take it anymore. I prayed and asked God to help me. Then, like an angel out of nowhere this housekeeper came in and saw what I was sleeping on. She told she had a surprise for me and came back in a few minutes with a recliner. That made me feel so good and I actually got a little sleep. The recliner reminded me that God sees us and answers even the smallest prayers right when we need them the most. We made it home Monday and my husband is weak but okay. It will take time for him to recuperate. 

Tuesday was my birthday. I turned 57. It was uneventful and pretty much glossed over by everyone. Oh, they did the obligatory happy birthday. Well, everyone did but my husband. He had been through too much and forgot all about it. My daughter had my granddaughter buy and little cake for me and she and I ate it. It was a nice and I appreciate it. I do not expect anything huge for my birthday,  just a simple "happy birthday, I love you" is enough. 

I just feel forgotten by most of the people in my life unless they need something. It hurts when I am not acknowledged. I do not think that is asking too much. I often wonder if anyone really loves me for me or do they just love me for what I do for them? I wish someone just loved me. I do not know if I am making any sense but that is how I feel.

Anyway, I got through my birthday. My grandson was born two days after my birthday last year so he turned one on December 12th. I went to see him on his birthday. I always say he is our oil of joy. His smile and laughter fill my heart and take the sting of the hard knocks of life away. This little boy is an answer to prayer and I love him more than I have words to describe. Being with him for a little bit kinda reset me inside and calmed my spirit.

So, I was sitting here earlier thinking about this past week. My husband nearly died. God brought him back. Things could be so much worse. I could have been planning a funeral. Instead I am home. I am trying to get the laundry caught up. I am kind of back to my "weird normal" whatever that is.

The main thing I can take away from this week is that God will never leave me or forsake me. I listen to TD Jakes alot. I heard part of a sermon in the middle of this chaotic week. He said God will always give you a safe place to Hide; He will Hold you and He will Help you. I have seen God do this all week.

I have other things going on that I am afraid  and worried about. Yet, I keep thinking of the disciples on the boat with Jesus during a storm. Jesus said peace be still and the storm stopped. I am reminded to keep my focus on God and He will guide and give me peace. 

I am not a churchy person, I am a spiritual person. I met my Savior at the foot of my bed, alone and in despair 33 years ago. I am not perfect. If I was I wouldn't need a Savior. 

Christmas is not about the gifts and commercialism it has become. It is about a loving Savior who chose to leave the glory of Heaven and become a man in order be our ultimate sacrifice. So, in the middle of all this holiday hustle and bustle just stop for a moment and remember what Christmas really is.

Merry Christmas to everyone and especially all my friends and family!! Oh, and thank God my husband is alive and I made it through this crazy week sober.