Gratitude Day 5 and 6

Gratitude Day 5 and 6

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

The last 2 days have been full of distractions. Some were ones I did not create and others ones I did. I had to go to Oklahoma City to see my mother-in-law yesterday and that was hard. She is in her late 80s and I never know when it will be the last time I see her. She is a beautiful woman inside and out. 

One of my granddaughters has been sick with the flu and other stuff and it has kicked her butt hard. She lives 4 hours away and it is heartbreaking to me that I cannot run and take care of her. That in itself has been a huge mental distraction. I have been praying like crazy for her.

Today, I decided to stop everything and do what my heart needed. I set my Father's blanket of valor aside for a bit to work on my grandson's birthday present. He will be 4 on December 12th, 2 days after my 60th birthday. Yes, I will be 60...that is a story for another day. Anyway, I am making my grandson a quilt of the solar system because he loves the universe and planets and knows way more about them than I ever will. That was my intentional distraction because it made me happy and I desperately need happiness right now. Besides, I could hear my Father's voice telling me to get that done first for his beautiful great-grandson. So, that is what I did. 

I had just finished the part of the quilt that I had set out to do when my daughter sent me a song to listen to. It is called Red Bird by Huntergirl. I had never it before and it made the damn of tears that I have been holding back break loose. I have not forgotten about Gratitude Day 5 at all. Actually, it has been heavy on my mind. I have tried to find the words to describe how I feel. I decided that what I have to write is worthy of 2 days, Gratitude Day 5 and 6. If you have stuck with me this far please indulge me for a little longer.

On November 5, 2021 my Father was hospitalized for an infection. Little did I know at that time, that 3 months later on February 11, 2022 I would hold his hand and gaze into his beautiful blue eyes until he took his last breath and his heart stopped beating.

He was the greatest man I have ever known; the one I Ioved to hate and hated to love. We had a rocky start in my childhood, but he became my everything as an adult. He was my best friend and my safe place to land when the world got too crazy. Most of all he was my hero. When he died it broke me in places I never knew existed within me. I do not know if those parts will ever heal. Maybe they are not supposed to. 

All I know is, I was blessed with a beautiful relationship with my Father that never should have been. If you knew where we started from, me 23 years old and newly sober and him in his 40s. When I was a teenager we were eachother's battering rams. I wrote him off and blamed everything on him. Some years later, he called one evening out of the blue. He told me he could not change the past, that till his dying day he would regret the things he did. Yet, if I would just give him a chance he would try every day until he took his last breath to convince me that he loved me. And that he did. I knew and still know that my Father loved me deeply and I loved him. I also know that the love we shared never dies and that is what I hold on to.

The last 3 months I had with my Father were hard. Yet, there were funny, beautiful, sacred, holy moments that are etched on my heart and mind forever. I would work all day and go see him in the evening wherever he was. I never missed a day. He could not walk and before he lost voice he would call me and bark out orders to buy something he needed or some phone call I needed to make. I tried to do anything I could to make him happy.

I remember one time I was determined to get him in the bathroom and on a shower chair so me and my stepmom could bathe him. It had been a week or so since he had been able to have a good shower. I just knew if we could do that it would make him feel better. We twisted and contorted him and his wheelchair around. In the end, his bathroom was too small and we all ended up in a huge laughing fit over it. Laughter in midst of deep sorrow...go figure.

At one point he had emergency surgery to clean out the infection and at the same time came down with COVID. His surgery was late in the evening. I managed to get the guard to let me in the surgery waiting area even though it was closed. There I was, sitting in the dark praying. I looked over and the receptionist's computer screen was still on. Something told me to go look at it. I found a number on the computer to the recovery room, called it and spoke to a nurse. She said she would tell the doctor I was out there. Just as I hung up, the elevator doors opened right in front of me and there was my Father being wheeled by me on a stretcher. I got to yell, "I'm here Daddy! I love you!" He waved back. The surgeon came and found me after he was done. They sent him back to rehab. I continued to go every day after work, sometimes in the snow and sit outside his window to talk to him on his cell phone. I did not want him to think we gave up on him.

He made it through COVID, but the infection had went into spine before they caught it and he could not use his hands very good. So, I would go feed him dinner every night. I remember, he loved Oreo cookies and asked me to bring him some. I never knew that would be the last thing we would eat together. Every night after we ate, he would tell me he just wanted to watch TV and hold my hand. So that is what we did. When he started losing his voice we still held hands. I prayed with him before I left every night. 

One of the last things I remember him saying to me was in answer to my question of him, "Dad? Do you have your ticket to Heaven?" He answered, "Hell yes I do, many times over!! I love the Lord and He's my Savior!!" That gave me great comfort because I knew we would be together again someday. 

There were so many things my Father said with his eyes that never needed words. I never realized how beautiful his eyes were until that was the only way he had to communicate. The last few weeks he would not eat. All we did was hold hands and watch TV. I would give anything to sit and hold hands with my Daddy and watch TV again.

I heard Wynona Judd the other day speaking about losing her mom. She said something like she felt sorrow and joy at the same time. That is how I feel all the time. The depths of sorrow that I feel being here without my Father is like nothing I have ever felt. Yet, I know he is in Heaven in the presence of God. He free of his old, frail body and no longer in pain. That fills my heart with incredible joy.

Having said all that, for Gratitude Day 5 and 6, I am extremely grateful for the man God chose to give as my Father. I am also grateful and humbled that God chose me to spend the last 3 months of my Father's life with him so I could help lead him home. 

I love you my sweet Daddy! This is not goodbye, it is see you later. ❤️❤️❤️

My Home

Gratitude Day 4

11/4/22

My Home

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

One year ago today was one of the happiest days in my life. I feel the need to give you the back story so you understand why.

In December 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, I had brain surgery. The whole process was scary but God got me through it. A few months later my mother went through major surgery and my stepdad died of COVID while she was in the hospital. Our family was in crisis to say the least. I helped move my mom back from Florida on Labor Day 2021 and she was living with us.

I had lost my home many years ago and became a renter or as I call it a nomad. I had to move anytime the lease was not renewed. So, I felt like I had no anchor. Last year I was living in another rent house and assumed my landlord would renew our lease for another year. He refused and said he preferred month to month. I had always paid my rent on time and often early so I was not happy about it. In the next few months, every month my landlord increased my rent. I am not stupid, I knew he was forcing me out so he could double or triple the rent for another tenant.

I looked and looked and could not find another place to rent. I was scared to death because I figured I did not have good enough credit to buy my own home. I said a prayer. Something in my heart, I know it was God, told me to contact a specific mortgage company and tell them I wanted to get completely approved for a home loan before I started looking and putting in an offer. It took alot of major legwork and documentation on my part but to my amazement I got approved to purchase my own home!!

I called my dear friend and realtor Melissa and we began to search. The real estate market was insane last year. I made numerous offers on homes that were either rejected or beat out by a better offer. One day, I was surfing the internet and stumbled on this one house. It looked nice in the pictures but I did not schedule to look at it. I kept looking at other ones but that one kept coming to my mind. So, finally Melissa, my mom and I went and looked at it.

Now, I will tell you, never in a million years would I have picked the neighborhood I live in now. I am not sure why, I just would not have picked it. Yet, the moment I walked in the house it felt like I was being wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold winter day after playing for hours in the snow. We made an offer and to my amazement it was accepted.

November 4, 2021 was closing day. I remember going over to this empty house alone after I got the keys. I walked through the house and cried tears of gratitude. I went and sat on the front steps and looked at the school across the street. It hit me like a lighting bolt, the happiest time in my childhood was when we lived a few blocks up the street and I attended this very school. I saw my "little Andi" as I call her, walking home from school right by my home today.

I was and still am blown away by the tender love, mercy and grace that God continues to show me. Especially when I know I do not deserve it. See, God knew the deepest desire of my heart...that I have a home. I had lost the home my children and oldest grandchildren grew up in years ago. I felt like I had no anchor, no safe place to land in this chaotic world. Today, I have a home.

When God blesses us He does not skimp on anything! I am an artist. When I first looked at what is now home to me, one bedroom was being used as an artroom. I had not even considered having that. Yet, today I spend much of my free time creating things in that same room. Currently I am into quilting.

Little did I know last year on this day that my Father would be gone. He never got to see my home in person, but told me how proud he was of me. That is worth more than anything. God always makes a way if I will just shut up and listen. I am sure grateful I listened to him last year!

Today, I sit on a swing that my Father gave me several years ago, that just happened to fit perfectly on my front porch. Coincidence? I think not. I spend quite a bit of time on this swing remembering happy parts of my childhood. It often feels like my Father is sitting on the swing next to me too.

Today, tears of gratitude fill my eyes because I finally found my home.

Heaven Sent Me This Cat

Heaven Sent Me This Cat

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

10/30/22

The longest term relationship I have had in my life other my parents and kids is this old cat. His name is Sebastian. I think he is 15 this year. My granddaughter Destiny batted her beautiful brown eyes at me all those years ago and begged me to adopt him. I did not want another cat after my last one died, but she talked me into getting him. We picked him because he pressed his little face against the window as if to say, "Pick me! Please get me out of here!!!"

The first few years Sebastian and I were archenemies in a lot of ways. He liked to scratch up important things of mine in revenge for who knows what. Then, I found myself heartbroken and alone and he loved me through it. I did not realize how close we were until I had brain surgery in December 2020. When I got home from the hospital I was indescribably weak and exhausted. The exhaustion was a nasty side effect of having my brain put back in my skull where it belonged. It still lingers at times today.

The minute I walked through the door at home and collapsed into my recliner Sebastian jumped up in my lap. He stayed by my side 24/7 for the 6 months it took me to get back to some kind of normalcy. I truly believe he loved back to health quicker than any other medicine I was on.

There are times still today that he will demand for me to sit down and let him on my lap. I am then required to scratch his head for however long he sees fit. I tend to push myself too hard and I think he knows it. He forces me to stop, take a break and relax. I know Heaven sent this beautiful creature to me all those years ago because God knew I would him way more than he ever needed me!

I love you my beautiful Sebastian!! ❤️

The Dead Man Float

I wrote this for a friend tonight about grief...

The Dead Man Float

10/29/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

This sounds horrible but this is how think. I have never managed to surf the waves very good. I kept getting body slammed! So, years ago when my granddaughter died and I was having a horrible time, I kept trying to invision riding the waves and having no luck. My mind went back to 8th grade when I learned survival swimming. We had to master this float called the dead man float. It would supposedly keep you alive and conserve energy if you were stranded far away from land in deep water or waves. We had a contest and I won because I could do the dead man float better than anyone in 8th grade. So here I was in the stormy seas of grief over my granddaughter dying and I saw myself calm down and do the dead man float. Somehow it made me relax. The tears still fell, the heartache was still there but if I stopped fighting it and just floated I could get through it. The dead man float has my ass many a day, especially this past year.

My Dad's Ashes

I wrote this to my granddaughter Destiny because she's missing her Grandpa, my Dad really bad...so am I.

My Dad's Ashes 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Written October 22, 2022

I am going to tell you something that you might think is really weird. Somehow I find comfort in it though. When I got the idea to do the necklaces to memorialize your grandpa, I never thought in a million years that I would be the one to touch his ashes and make them for everyone. Yet, something in my heart pulled me to do it. I had never seen human ashes before so I had no idea what they looked like. When I opened his urn I was amazed because they looked so similar to the sand on a beach, especially the sand in Florida. 

The sand by the ocean is not pure and fine. It has small chunks of the world or maybe even the universe in it. My Dad's ashes looked like that. I kept thinking of the verse in the Bible that says "ashes to ashes, dust to dust". We all come from God and starlight and dust and that is where we return. I was thinking how huge my Dad was in everyone's life, especially mine. Yet, his body was reduced to ashes that were sacred and precious to me. I truly believe he wanted us to take a small piece of him with each of us because it symbolizes the tremendous love we had for him and he had for us. That love never dies. 

Destiny, if you, Bella, Courtney, your mom, Sedrick, Kaylee, Michael, Victoria, Chris, Linda, my Mom, Andre and even Zane and Jimmy could magnify the love you still feel for your grandpa times 1000, I still love you more than that and your grandpa loves you even more. All we have left at the end of our lives is the love we share. 

So, I have learned through my Father dying perhaps the most important lesson of all...

Do not take those you love for granted. One day they are here and the next they are gone. Things are not that important. The love we share is. 

So, my beautiful granddaughter, hold on tight to love you share with your grandpa and all of us. Love never dies.

God's Protection and My Car

God's Protection and My Car

10/19/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I had something happen that reminds me of God's protection on our lives. Even when we do not realize it He is always working, often in the background, to keep us from harm. Last week, I spent a few days negotiating online with a local dealership to possibly trade in my car for a new one. My car was a mess inside and I knew I needed to clean it out. I had been putting it off for a long time, almost a year. I was busy taking care of my mom and dad. Then my dad died. The last thing on my mind was cleaning my car.

One evening last week I pushed myself to get my car all nice and clean inside. It almost looks brand new now. I also went through all the papers and electronic stuff I keep in my car. I got rid of most of it and what was left fit nicely in my glove box. There was nothing in the center console under the tray. The whole time I was cleaning my car I was thinking why is this so important? My car is still fairly new so why am I even trying to trade it?

Short story long, the deal for the new car fell through. The dealership was playing too many games and I walked away from it. As I was leaving the dealership I figured all was not lost. At least it pushed me to clean out my car. So, I went on with life.

Last night we went to my stepmom's for a few to help her out. I am a stickler about always locking my car. I thought I locked it when we got home. This morning I went out to get groceries from the delivery guy and noticed as I walked by my car that the center console was open and all the change and small items that were in the tray were in the passenger seat. It was obvious someone pilfered through my car last night. I went through my car and nothing was missing!

As I was walking back in the house I almost heard God's voice out loud say, "See Andrea? That is why you had to clean your car out last week. I knew this would happen and I was working even then to protect you today." All I can say is, "WOW!" Here I am this pessimistic, Doubting Thomas inside. I get up every day and poke my finger in the Lord's side just to make sure He's still here. He lets me do it because He loves me unconditionally and understands that I am not this person of strong, amazing faith. I do pretty much everything afraid, as if I am jumping off a cliff and hoping God catches me. He always does in spite of my insecurities.

This may seem trivial and silly to some people but not to me! Today, once again, I am reminded of the awesome love and power of my Creator and Abba Father. He cares so much for me that He even plans in advance to protect me from things that could harm me in the future. I am forever awed, humbled and grateful for the love my Savior God has for me. Amazing grace how sweet the sound...❤️

Roses and Blue Jays

Roses and Blue Jays

October 16, 2021

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Grief is a roller coaster we never want to ride. Once we are on it, the ride is long and unpredictable. We just have to hang on and trust God to carry us through. The last few days the ride has taken me down a never ending hill going at what feels like a million miles an hour. I keep thinking it will get easier living without my Dad but on days like today it feels like the sadness will never end.

My dad was coming to me as a crow for awhile. Then, the other day I found a Blue Jay feather. It was weird because it happened randomly as I was walking in a store. It fell from the sky and fluttered to the ground right in front of me. Of course, I picked it up and saved it. I know it was a hello from Heaven, feathers always are.

Today I was getting out of the car at home and a Blue Jay flew past me and sat right in front of me on a rosebush in the middle of the last of the roses for the season. He looked at me for the longest time. I just stood there in the sacred silence and smiled. I finally said, "Hi Dad, I know it's you. I love you and miss you!" He cocked his head at me as if to say, "It's about time you notice me!" Then he flew away.

The Native American side of me is all over this. Call me crazy or overly sensitive, I do not care. I believe deeply in symbolism and nature. I know that God and those who have gone before us speak to us in symbols from nature. It is no coincidence that my father's birth month is June and his birth flower is the rose. I did not realize when I bought this house last year with rosebushes in the front yard how precious they would be to me now.

I did some Googling on roses and Blue Jays. Here is what I found. Since ancient time, roses have been seen as God at work in whatever situation they appear. Roses symbolize miracles and God's amazing love at work in the world. Many people have reported smelling roses when they encounter an angel. Blue Jays are seen as very powerful spirit animals. They symbolize that the universe is telling one that they are on the right path and to keep going. Blue Jays are also messengers from Heaven. They have the power to connect us with our ancestors and transfer the love and compassion we share between us. How cool is that?!

I have had a lot of things on my mind lately. There is one situation I have been praying for a miracle for me. I have been questioning if I am making the right decisions, am I on the right path? Sometimes the grief clouds my vision and I feel like I have to fight to see where I am going in my life. I have caught myself calling my Dad so many times just to hear his voice tell me everything is going to be okay and to keep going. I have felt like he is so far away. Yet, he has been right here with me all along. I just had to slow down and pay attention to the messages in the roses and Blue Jays in front me.

Thanks for getting my attention Daddy! I miss you now more that ever and love you even deeper! ❤️

Dancing with My Father Around the Fire

Dancing with My Father Around the Fire

9/16/22

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I have been sitting here listening to Native American music with drums and singers. I do it sometimes because I close my eyes and imagine my father and I dancing around the fire with our ancestors. When I do this it feels as if we are really together again. Now mind you, my father was never a dancer of any kind but its almost always he comes to me when I do this. It is kind of like meditation.

Anyway, I was totally into it today. Then, all of the sudden I saw myself dancing with my father and everyone dancing around us. I started laughing because there is the two of us making up our own dance. We were not following anyone. We were just having fun in our own little world, dancing to the beat of our own drums.

That pretty much sums up how both of us have lived our lives. I am so much like my father. He always lived and walked to the beat of his own drum. I do too, always have. Yet, today I realized I dance to the beat of my father's drum. I am covered in goose bumps writing this.

My father always finds a way back to me. Sometimes through crows, other times feathers or roses and now drums. What a sacred gift God, my Creator and Savior have given me! I feel very blessed right now.

I love you Daddy! I miss you more than I know how to say. Thanks for dancing with me today!! ❤️

My New Journey with Quilting

Well, it's official in my mind now and I've taken outward action on it. After my father died my granddaughter Destiny Zelsnack gave me the idea of making a quilt out of his t-shirts that she got him over the years. So, the idea has been rolling around in my head ever since. I'm a very creative person although most people probably don't think so. I have watched a plethora of YouTube videos on quilting. I learned to sew as a teenager, that's the easy part for me. I found a method I like and I got most of my supplies. It has occurred to me that I have suddenly become a scrap material addict. I have my design all drawn out on graph paper with seam allowances factored in. I am expecting this to be similar to stained glass. You have your pattern but then along the way you encounter hiccups and have to adjust to them. Sounds alot like life doesn't it?

For me, creating something is a spiritual journey, no matter what it is that I'm doing. I had it all planned out that I would paint. I haven't painted in a long time. Yet, every time I tried something stopped me. When I started letting the ideas flow for a quilt, I felt my creative passion come back. I had a huge stack of old t-shirts that were my dad's. I started going through them. The first one I pulled out was the one with the Native American shown in the picture. My dad was a proud Cherokee man. When I saw the shirt I smiled because I knew my dad is guiding me through this. 

On the front side of the shirt is the statement, "We should understand well that all things are the works of the Great Spirit." I will figure out a way to add this to my first quilt. I know everything that is happening in my life is meant to be. We are never truly apart, even after death. We just have to be still and watch for signs.

I love you Daddy!

P.S. I will post pics of my progress once in awhile for everyone. Assuming the first turns out good I already have several other ideas in mind. Oh my, I need a bigger artroom already! 🤣🤪😁

Heaven In His Eyes

Heaven In His Eyes

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

August 17, 2022

I am always taken by surprise when God gives me what I call sacred holy moments. They usually happen when I least expect it and from a place or person that I would never think possible. Tonight the bearer of this precious gift to me was my 3 year old grandson Michael.

Michael is an energetic little boy. He is full of excitement and awe at the world around him. He soaks in everything like a sponge. He is always trying to figure out how things work and he loves to learn. He is completely obsessed with solar system. He can name and identify every planet, moon, stars...you name it. He knows things I have never heard of! It's fun to watch the excitement that builds up in him when he tells you about it.

My son texted me the other day and we planned to have dinner together tonight. When they got to my house Michael decided he wanted to draw a picture of the sun and planets. So I got paper and pastel crayons out for him and he went to work. He was so excited. He would tell us all about each planet he drew. There was this joy all around him and it filled the room. It even inched its way into my downcast heart. I always say that my little grandson is the oil of joy for my sadness from losing my father a few months ago.

After Michael finished his masterpiece he reminded me that we always sit on the front porch and swing when he comes over. So, off we went to the front porch. We swang and named the colors of each car that drove by. It had been cloudy all day but while we were sitting there the blue sky started peaking through behind the clouds. Michael got all excited. He asked me, "GeGe, how do the clouds move out of the sky?" I replied, "Well I suppose God blows them out of the way." Then he said, "Well if God does not blow them out of the sky so I can see the moon tonight then I will just blow them out of the way myself. I like to look at the moon." We both laughed and kept swinging.

When it was time to go home Michael gave me the picture he drew of the solar system. We hung it on my refrigerator together. He stood there looking all proud of his accomplishment. I told him how much I loved the planets he drew. His eyes were sparkling like 2 beautiful stars as he gazed at his picture. Then he looked at me and said, "Gege, its beautiful because it's Heaven! See? Right there it is. All planets and the universe is Heaven!" At that moment I saw Heaven in his eyes.

I do believe my little grandson has seen and knows God much better than I do. He still has that child-like innocence and faith. I hope he never loses it. I hope I always see Heaven in his eyes like I did tonight. What a sacred holy moment I was blessed to experience with my beautiful grandson. It is one I will treasure all of my days.

As for the picture...I will always see Heaven in it now. I will forever be reminded of seeing Heaven in his eyes when I look at it. I will frame it this weekend and display it proudly.

Oh, Michael, my little grandson...I always say you hung the moon for me. Tonight you truly did!! I love you more my sweet boy!

Love,

GeGe ❤️

More Random Thoughts About Death from Yours Truly

More Random Thoughts About Death from Yours Truly

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

August 14, 2022

It was 6 months since my Dad went home to be with the Lord on August 11th. Some days it seems like 6 minutes and others it seems like 6 years. It is weird how time goes so slow and yet so fast all at the same time. God's timing always frustrates and amazes me at once. I can see His hand at work, yet I do not understand His ways most days. 

I spent up until my 30s, so the majority of my life, hating my Dad and fighting over stupid shit with him instead of taking an active interest in him and enjoying the good in him. When I realized that, I started reaching out to him everyday and I went to spend time with him as much as I could. Over time, my relationship with him healed. Every day until he could not do it anymore he would text and tell me I was his beautiful daughter, that he loved me and was proud of me. It only took a few seconds to do that but it made me feel like I was important to him. I still have those texts today.

When my Dad died I was right there with him. He held my hand and never let go. Our eyes were locked in a gaze with eachother until his last breath and last heartbeat. All I could think was why I never knew what a beautiful almost sky blue color my Daddy's eyes were. They were gorgeous. I do not know why I never took the time to just look in his eyes. How sad it was that it took me till he died to really look in his eyes.

So far, I have learned a few things from my Dad's death. Life is too short to build walls between you and the ones you supposedly love. Life is fleeting and soon lost and should not be wasted on one's who take no active interest in you and your relationship and vice versa. Most of all, it is important to take the time to really look in eachother's eyes because there will come a day that it is too late and you will not be able to.

I am sure I will learn more as time goes by. Someday the hurt will not be so bad. But right now, there are days it hurts to breathe because I miss him so deeply. I am doing the best I can and it is a Holy friggin' miracle I have not drank or drugged over it all. God's grace has kept me sober in spite of it. Oh what a precious gift God's grace is!!

I love you Daddy. I miss you. You are still alive in my heart and mind. Until we meet again...XOXO!!!

Andi ❤️

Roses and Crows

Roses and Crows

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

July 15, 2022

I have had this in my heart for awhile now. I have been trying to make sense of it. Yet, my thoughts are all jumbled and scrambled. I know myself well enough to understand that if I do not write, I will never unscramble or understand what my heart is trying to tell me. So, I am just going to write it. Maybe I will change it later and maybe I will not.

Since my Dad died I have done nothing but work from home all day during the week and take care of everyone else in my free time. Do not get me wrong. I am not complaining about helping at all. I just realize I have not given much time to myself. When I do, I end up in a pile of tears missing my Daddy so bad. I know, it is all a part of grieving but I still do not like it.

I talk to my Dad alot because I know he is around me, I just do not see him. Ever since he died I have been asking him to send me signs. I pay attention too. The Cherokee part of me is always watching.

I do not get out very often. When I do it is a quick trip in and out of a store. I just happen go to this one store that is in the same shopping center as my Dad's favorite tool store. Every time I go to this store, when I get out of the car this black bird is right there dancing. The first time it happened I thought it's dance looked like a Cherokee dancing. Then I started laughing and I thought maybe my Dad was trying to say hello to me. Like I said every time I go there this same black bird is there dancing. I did some research and I am pretty sure it's a crow.

I am forever researching the symbolism of things so I looked up the crow. The first site I landed on said this:

"Many people see crows as negative. However, that is not true. Crows appear to alert you to the presence of spiritual shifts taking place around you. They are there to remind you to pay close attention to the spiritual signs that are being conveyed to guide you in the right direction. They are symbols of change, phases, telepathic powers, and the ability to see into the realms of the unseen."

I do not know about anyone else but that blew my mind! I know there are transitions or changes on my horizon. I can feel them in my spirit even though I do not know what they are yet. I was introduced to the Holy Spirit when I was 10 years old and I have always known when some things are going to happen around me whether I told anyone or not. I identify with having the traits of an empath. I am not a holy roller or spiritual guru at all. I just know there is a Father, Son and Holy Ghost and that is my Higher Power. It is not about religion for me at all.

So, I believe the crow is my Dad trying to tell me that no matter what happens, good or bad, he is going to be there. I need to just keep moving forward and keep dancing with him. Also, the dancing reminds me that when I enter His courts and praise Him; my Dad, grandchildren, grandparents, ancestors and angels are there with me.

That may all sound crazy some people but not to me. I had a vision years ago of dancing at God's throne with my granddaughter Zoey. I also died one time and came back. I was there at His throne and it was the most awesome experience. The mercy and grace that I felt; the feeling of all the weight of this world being off me...it was absolutely beautifully amazing. Then, God told me to go back and I wanted to stay so bad, because there I was finally home. Yet, I knew I had to go back to raise my children, there was still other things to learn and others to help. The first few months back I felt so heavy. I still do sometimes today. Anyway, I got off track. I guess there was a reason for it.

God blessed us with our own home last November, the day before my Dad got sick and the 3 month nightmare began that culminated in his death. He never got to see my home. It has bothered me alot. I had prayed for my own home, some place that felt peaceful and one that I could fix up. I wanted it to be a place of ease and comfort to anyone who entered. It did not have be huge, just good bones. I looked every evening for 3 months for this house. God blessed me with a patient realtor. When I walked in the first time, I just knew in my heart of hearts that this was home.

Since we have been here I have slowly realized some things about this place. Everyone who walks in the house for the first time says the same thing, "This place just feels like home." I did not realize it at the time we bought it but it is right across the street from an elementary school that I went to. We lived up the street. It was the happiest time of my childhood, before puberty hit and the fighting with my Dad started. When I grew up we worked out our issues but I know I was hell as a teenager.

Our home is on a corner with a half acre lot. The front porch faces the school. We always plant flowers. The previous owner had a flower bed in the front and what looked like ugly wheat grass with rose bushes planted in between. We got rid of the ugly wheat grass and left the rose bushes. We planted flowers in April, earlier than usual. I did not pay much attention to the rose bushes.

Around Father's Day in June, suddenly the roses started blooming. They were absolutely beautiful. There were so many they weighed the bushes down. They bloomed like crazy all of June. My Dad's birthday was June 27th. They started wilting after his birthday. I figured they would not bloom anymore this year.

I was curious about roses and started researching them. The first thing I stumbled on is that roses are the birth flower for June. I thought that was pretty cool since it is my Dad's birth month. It was his way of saying, "Hello! I'm still here!!"

I also found this explanation that rings true in my heart:

"Since ancient times, roses have symbolized God at work in whatever situation they appear. The intricate and elegant rose offers a glimpse of a masterful creator's active presence in creation. As this fragrant flower blooms, its buds gradually open to reveal blossoms with lovely layers—an illustration of how spiritual wisdom unfolds in people's lives. The strong, sweet scent of a rose brings to mind the powerful sweetness of love, which is the essence of God. So it's not surprising that many miracles and encounters with angels throughout history have involved roses."

After reading that I thought well that is nice but there will not be anymore roses this year. Boy, was I wrong! I walked outside the other day and the roses are blooming again! Just a couple of days before I was asking my Dad for another sign. He sure gave it to me!!

If I had been asked to tell you what signs my Dad would use to tell me that he is still around me I would have never said roses and crows. Roses are beautiful but they have thorns. Crows often get a bad wrap. To many people they are a nuisance much like pigeons. So, if I were to look at these 2 things with my earthly eyes I would miss out on the messages God and my Dad are trying to send me.

When I look through my spiritual eyes, I can see that God is trying to tell me that no matter how "thorny" life gets and no matter how negative people treat me like they do crows...He is still there even when it does not feel like it. 

I believe my Dad is trying to tell me, just like the crows, keep dancing even when my heart aches. He also wants me to stop and pay attention to the beauty around me like the roses. Sometimes I need to be still to see the angels in my midst. This is all a reminder to me that even though I cannot see my Dad, he is ever present around me just like God is.

So, at least for today I am going to stop and smell the roses and keep dancing with the crows.

I love you Daddy ❤️

HOPE

HOPE

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

7/8/22

At one point in my life I went for 3 years with something wrong with my vision, balance off and clear liquid spewing out one nostril any time I got up and moved around. Specialist after specialist ran test after test. At one point I was in the hospital for 9 days! This was via Indian Health Care and being farmed out to different doctors. Finally, my PCP sent me to an ENT in Tahlequah. Strangely, they had opening the next day and I went. I found out that day that I was the last IHS patient they were ever accepting again. The ENT looked at me and read the mountain of medical records. He said he knew what it was but there was only one doctor in Tulsa that could treat it. He referred me there. Again, they just happened to have an opening within a couple of days. More tests determined that I had a cerebral spinal fluid leak. Fluid from my brain was leaking out my nose. I had surgery and when they were in there they found that my brain was sagging out of my skull. So, a simple 2 hour patch job for the leak turned in to a 9 hour major brain surgery to put my brain back where it belonged. Not what anyone was expecting!

If you have read this far, PLEASE KEEP READING! I started a new job working from home in July 2019. Benefits went into effect immediately and they gave me 2 weeks PTO up front. This was about the time I started getting referrals to the ENT, then doctors in Tulsa and more tests ran. At the time I did not realize that my new employer gave me short term disability and then I had forgotten that I signed up for extra too. This is something I never did before. Also, my employer gave all employees Christmas thru New Years off with pay, not counting PTO. It just so happened that the date for my surgery was December 28th. Right in the middle of my time off for the holidays. When I came out of surgery and could think straight I called my boss. She reminded me that I had short term disability I could use. I called HR, there was a waiting period before payments started which just so happened to be the same amount of paid holiday time and the 2 weeks PTO I had. So, I never missed a payday. I was off work for 6 months. DOES ANYONE SEE THE HAND OF GOD AT WORK YET?!

I wrote all that to tell you this...even when it feels like God is not working, HE IS WORKING! That is what I learned from what felt like a 3 year nightmare that ended in brain surgery. When I step back, I can see God was working it all out all along. As a result of all that, I have hope today. I heard a guy say the other day that hope means to expectedly wait on God to move.That is the kind of hope I have now. If God will do that for me, I know He's doing the same for you!

Going Home

Going Home

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

7/1/22

This is a post I wrote to a friend in response to her decision to put down her beloved dog.

I love my animals like I love people. Actually I love them more than most people. About 2 years ago I had to put my hearing dog Reggie down. In February I was there to tell my dad it was ok to stop living here and go home to God. Both were equally difficult and painful just in different ways. I can tell you this...it takes great love, very deep love of someone or an animal to help them transition to arms of God. Each time I've done it, it was the one thing I did not want to do the most; yet the very thing I would not have missed for anything in the world. You may think I'm crazy, hell I am crazy; but helping a being, human or animal, transition is to me the most holy, horribly beautiful experience I have ever had. It is at their last breath that I realize the incredible depth of love we shared. I hold on to that love until we meet again. That is the hope I have that helps me keep going day by day without them. I will keep you in my prayers. 🙏🏼😢❤️

Honoring My Father

Honoring My Father

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

6/29/22

We held my father's military burial on his 82nd birthday, June 27, 2022. It was small and private; just my stepmom, my son and his family, my husband and myself. We did not invite others in the family because of all the hatred and strife they have caused since his death in February.

One of the last things my father asked me to do in private, before he lost his voice, was to make sure his military burial was dignified and peaceful. He told me that he knew certain people would come to it and cause drama and he did not want that. So, my stepmother and I prayed about it and discussed it together. As sad as it was for us, we decided that small and intimate was the better choice. It was not an easy choice but I know in my heart, to the very core of my spirit that what we did was right in the eyes of my father and most importantly in the eyes of God. My father was honored. That is what he deserved.

We did a video of it and distributed it through my social media, texts and emails so that everyone knows where my father is buried. Even though the ceremony was beautiful in many ways and we saw the Lord's hand in all of it, it was as if the scab on my heart that was healing got ripped open again because I miss my father so much.

Since the ceremony, family members have called and said horrible, horrible things to me and about my stepmom, myself and my little family. They have sent vicious texts and messages to me. These same people were nowhere to be found when my father fought for his life for 3 months and died. It was only me and my stepmom there 24/7. We tried to get them to help. His son only showed up when I pleaded and begged with him to come and that was only a few times. Others who showed up once or twice through it all only showed up to beg  for money from my father or for a photo op. NO ONE in my extended family that lived here offered comfort or help to me or my stepmom during this nightmare we were living through.

Once my father died and the money tree died with him they were nowhere to be found. They spewed lie after lie. His own son threw away the things my father willed to him. It is on video. I cannot believe anyone would dishonor their father that way! He and all the others will have to answer to God some day for the way they acted.

When we were planning my father's memorial service in February we called and left messages with my father's twin sister, his brother and other family. They never answered. We BEGGED my father's son to help us with the memorial. He flat out refused saying if he could not control EVERYTHING including my father's money he wanted nothing to do with it. My father's other daughter told me he was dead to her 15 years ago and she wanted nothing to do with any of it.

So, my stepmom, my little family and I forged ahead ALONE. In spite of all this God brought angels to comfort us in the form of one of my father's doctor friends and his wife. I am forever grateful to them.

I am not writing all this to start more drama. I hope if you have read this far you hear the complete hurt and anguish I feel right now. I am not even angry. I am crushed in my heart and spirit. I know the lies that have circulated about me, my stepmom, my husband, my kids and grandkids.

I have stayed silent till now because I just wanted to give my father an honorable fairwell. I did that. Yet, I am very much my father's daughter and I hear him in my heart telling me to set the record straight. That is why I am writing this.

My father was my best friend, my hero, my confidant, my safe place to land in this world. I texted and spoke to him on the phone numerous times a day. We had dinner together at least once a week. We celebrated the good times and held eachother up through the hard times in life. I held his hand until he took his last breath and his heart stopped beating. My life is so dark without him. I know I will get through this but I will never get "over" it. How can I get over losing someone I loved so deeply?!

I would not change how I  did anything or the decisions we made after he died because I know I did the right thing and honored my father. He always told me, "Andrea, you are my oldest child. With that comes responsibility. Some day you will have to make decisions that piss others off, even though it is the right thing to do. You stand strong and do the right thing no matter how they act." That is what I did for my father the other day and I have no regrets.

All I can say is the truth is out now. Make your own conclusions and if you do not want to be a part of my life, so be it. Move on. I probably will not notice you are gone anyways.

Please understand that my stepmom, husband, kids, grandkids and I did not want the hatred, strife and lies that have gone on. It has not come from us but it has been viscously directed at us. IT NEEDS TO STOP! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!

My father is dead and all the hatred in world will not bring him back.

Let him rest in peace and leave us alone to grieve.

In closing, a note to my father...

Dear Daddy,

I am so grateful God gave you to me. You taught me that when we block out all the noise around us and focus on eachother, all that is left is the love we share with eachother. And oh what a beautiful love it was and still is!! Love never dies. That is what I hold onto now. I know you are home with God. What a beautiful place it is!! We will meet again someday.

Love,

Your Little Andi ❤️

My Twisted Journey Through Sobriety

My Twisted Journey Through Sobriety

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

6/25/22

I am coming up on 36 years of sobriety on July 5th. I have not gotten a medallion since the pandemic started, so for at least a couple of years. I was thinking about this past 2 years and how crazy it has been. Crazy good and crazy bad.  

First I had brain surgery. Then I switched jobs to a better job. My mom had major surgery and nearly died and her husband did die from COVID. We moved her back here from Florida. I drove her home and my sister brought all her stuff back and sold her house. 

Somewhere in the middle of all that God blessed us with our own home. For the first time in years I could finally relax and breathe in my own space. Then, right after we moved into our home last November my father got an infection in his knee after surgery. My mom was living with us and I took care of her as best I could while working from home all day. I would get my work done and then take care of my father every evening. He was in and out of hospitals, mostly in. I would go sit with him and help him eat dinner and we would watch television together. He demanded that we hold hands. 

I watched my father dwindle away a little more every day. In early January this year he contracted COVID. He was quarantined for 2 weeks. I went every evening, no matter what the weather was and sat in my lawn chair outside his window and talked to him on the phone. Many evenings I was in my coat in the snow. I left him silly little signs on the window, pics of me and my stepmom, his grandkids and great grandkids. I would write we love you, we're still here, your not alone because I didn't want him to think we forgot him. When they finally released him from quarantine I took the day off and spent it with him. I just knew he was going to make it now. Sadly, COVID left his body so weak that the infection came back with a vengeance. It attacked his neck and spine and paralyzed him from the waist down. He started losing use of his hands and could barely speak.

The night before he died he went into tachycardia. Something told me to take off work and stay with him all night. I knew his time with us was short. My dad fought so hard to live, yet his body could not do it. I held his hand and I never let it go. I finally told him that it was okay to go home to God and I would be with him again someday. I told him do not worry about Linda (my stepmom), that I would take care of her. 

I kissed him on the cheek in a final goodbye and he squeezed my hand. Our eyes locked for what seemed like a lifetime because our whole 59 years together flashed before my eyes. Everything, the good and the bad, but especially the love we shared through it all. I remember his eyes were a gorgeous sky blue and that I had never realized how beautiful they were. First his breathing stopped and then his heartbeat. I sobbed like I have never sobbed in my life. I lost my hero, my battering ram through puberty, my voice of wisdom and my best friend as an adult. It was the most sacred, holy, horrible yet weirdly beautiful experience I have ever been through in my life. My father went to the arms of God on February 11, 2022.

I said all that to say this. It is a miracle that I have not had a drink or drug since July 5, 1986. Had I not gotten sober and been blessed with holy angels around me both in and out of the program I would not have been there for my father in his final days. I would not have been there to help him go home to God. No matter how bad I hurt without him here, I know he is so much better off being there than with me here. I also know that one drink would not fix a thing.

A few days ago I decided to order myself a medallion. I went from one online store to another. I stumbled upon a medallion that spoke to my heart and the story about described my journey through sobriety. It's not a "traditional" medallion, but at this point who cares? This medallion is called the Twisted Tree of Life Medallion. The prayer on the back of it is one I say every day. Here is the story of this medallion:

"The Tree of Life has a special meaning in recovery. It highlights how the principles of Honesty, Hope, Faith and Willingness are the sprawling roots in sobriety that lead us on a path to shaping a full and abundant life. The branches of the recovery tree highlight all the areas of our lives that we get back and how they work together to contribute to a content and meaningful existence."

I personally love that it is a twisted tree because my journey through sobriety has been pretty twisted, to say the least. I got my medallion today in the mail a few days early. I think my dad wanted it that way. 

As I look at the tree and all the twisted branches I think of all the women in recovery that have been in my life. Some planted seeds and moved on and others have stayed. I also think of 2 men, Harold Inman and George Gibbs who sat on each side of me at my homegroup meetings for 3 years and taught me how to live sober one day at a time. Without all these people I would not have been alive, much less been there for my dad. I truly owe them my life.

I know I am still here for a reason. I have 2 of the most awesome adult children, a son and daughter that make me proud. I have 4 gorgeous teenage granddaughters and a 3 year old grandson who has hung the moon for me. I have a beautiful home. I have an even better job now that I enjoy doing from home. My mom is doing better. I am still sober! What more could one want? If I had been asked to write where I would be after 36 years sober on day 1 of sobriety, I would have shortchanged myself. God is good!

My Thoughts on Abortion

My Thoughts on Abortion 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

June 24, 2022

I wrote this in response to another person's post about the overturn of Roe V. Wade today. I putting it out here so there's no question where I stand. If you do not like it, feel free to unfriend/block me. I probably will not notice anyway.

I have an adopted granddaughter and a granddaughter that my daughter had when she was 16. I deeply love them both and am forever grateful that they were not aborted. My world would be so gray without them. I believe that using abortion as a form of birth control is wrong and should not be allowed. Yet, there are times when it is necessary (rape, incest, life of mother).

For me personally, abortion is wrong. However, I will not stand in judgement of anyone else. I just know someday when I die, I  will meet my maker and be judged and I am grateful that this will not be on the list of things I have to answer for. Believe me, my list is long enough without that.

One other thing, my granddaughter Zoey was born on February 28, 2006. She was 18 weeks gestation. The doctors told us she was not "viable" to save. She fought for 11 minutes to live! She knew who her momma and daddy were. She grabbed their fingers. She fought so hard to live while know it all, overeducated, smug physicians literally stood there and let her die. This was in a non Christian hospital where they obviously do not honor life. Had she been at another hospital that is Catholic, where they do honor life they would have at least tried to save her. That day sealed in my heart where I stand on this issue.

I just pray that somehow God unites us all in His love. We need a way and miracle in this country and He is the Waymaker and Miracle Worker. My life is living proof of it.

4 Months

4 Months

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Written 6/11/22 for my Father

4 Months

17 Weeks

121 Days

2,904 Hours

174,240 Minutes

10,454,400 Seconds

Since you left and 

Went home to God

The longer you are gone

The deeper the ache

In my heart

Some days

It hurts to breathe 

Time doesn't heal

All wounds

It often makes them

Worse

At least it's that way

For me

I fight every day

To get up

Keep going

No matter the pain

I feel

I keep watching

For signs 

That you are near

That you hear

When I cry

Yet I find none

If I could only see

I know you're there

I just have to be quiet

And watch

4 months feels

Like a lifetime away

I long for you

I miss you so

Yet I know

You're only 

A breath away

So close 

But alas

So far

I know I must

Be still

Trust God

Pray

And hold on

To the hope 

That we will

Meet again

Some day

On God's 

Celestial shore

I love you Daddy,

Andi ❤️

My Jewelry Armoire

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

Mother's Day 2022

I have had this jewelry armoire for many, many years. I remember I bought it at K-Mart. It was on sale for around $40. I kept going back and forth to the store every day or two trying to justify in my mind how I could spend $40 on myself. Back then $40 was a lot of money. Eventually, I convinced myself that I deserved it and I bought it and took it home. I have drug this armoire with me everywhere for over 30 years. Mind you, I do not have expensive jewelry. I never have. Yet, I love what I call junk jewelry. I also have some sentimental momentos tucked inside it.

Over the years my jewelry armoire has taken a beating. It has had layers of left over tape stuck from moving across the country and many times from one side of town to other. Yet, I still hung on to it because I cherished what was inside it.

I had brain surgery back in December 2020 and we moved into another rent house a few months before. The movers tipped over my armoire and hurriedly threw my precious junk jewelry back inside it and wrapped it with a mountain of movers cling wrap. I was barely doing good enough at the time to get the house liveable and the kitchen set up. Then my mom nearly died last summer and my stepdad died of COVID. So, I just left my armoire in a dark corner and forgot about it.

This past November God blessed us with a home of our own. The movers hurriedly threw my armoire in my spare room that I have dubbed my art room because I will have it set up and be painting in there soon. Right after we moved in my father got real sick and for the next 3 months I helped care for him. Little did I know at the time that he would die in February. With all the chaos of my life, once again, I just left my jewelry armoire there in the corner and forgot about it.

After my father died and the dust settled I looked around at my disorganized home. I realized it had been many years since I felt like I had a home I could fix up and make my own. So, I wrote a list of things I wanted to do in no particular order, just list. I have slowly started working on that list. One of things was to buy a new jewelry armoire, sort through my junk jewelry and decide what to keep and what to get rid of and throw the old armoire away.

I started pricing jewelry armoires on Amazon and other sites and was shocked at how expensive they are! The cheapest one I could find was $150 and it was not nearly as big as the one I had. I decided to take the mountain of cling wrap off of it. I realized even though it had been banged around, tossed in a corner and forgotten about, that it was worth salvaging and it would definitely cost a lot less than a new one.

Over the last week or so I have slowly worked on my jewelry armoire.  First, I took all my precious junk jewelry out and sorted it in various containers for earrings, necklaces, lapel pins, etc. While I was sorting through it I found beautiful things I had forgotten I had. There were pendants with pictures of my children when they were young and other little hidden treasures of mine inside. They might not mean anything to someone else, but they meant the world to me.

Then I found some Goo Be Gone in the garage and started slowly getting the layers of tape from all my moves off of it. I was actually amazed, the Goo Be Gone took it off quite easily. Low and behold, once all the tape and gunk was off of it my armoire looked almost brand new. I replaced the old drawer knobs with some new ones and cleaned the inside out. It looks quite beautiful and I am actually proud of the job I did.

God teaches me things the most when I am in the middle of doing something. He definitely got my attention while I was taking care of this. Tonight, I was fixing the magnets on the side doors and having a hard time. The screws I was using were tiny and would not bite into the wood like they should. That and I had to remove one and start over 3 different times. I was getting frustrated and I started praying and having this conversation with God. I was saying stuff like, "Why does everything have to be so hard for me? Why can't things just be easy? God please just make the stupid screw go in the wood!" Sorry, but that is how I pray and talk to God. I am just real with Him.

At one point I got so frustrated a threw the screw driver down, said a few curse words and screamed, "I give up God!" I swear I heard God say back to me as clear as if He were standing in front of me, "Aren't you glad I didn't give up on you so easily? See, I knew how beautiful you were underneath all that gunk. I knew what beautiful jewels and treasures were still inside of you. They are still there when you open your heart let them out for people to see." Obviously, that was golden two-by-four up side my spiritual head. It made me stop and sit for a few minutes, just quiet, while the memories of the things God has carried and sometimes drug me kicking and screaming through flooded my mind.

In the span of my life I have been banged around, thrown away and shoved in a dark corner and forgotten. I have not been perfect by any stretch of the imagination. When I was young I was hell on wheels. Yet, the Lord never forgot me. See, all that tape and mountains of cling wrap was not put there to hide me or forget about me; God put it there to protect me until I made my way back to Him. It may sound weird, but God's grace is the Goo Be Gone I needed. It gets rid of gunk that accumulates over time very easily. His grace heals, restores and renews me when I let it in.

So, I am sitting here tonight with a thousand thoughts going through my head at once. My dad's little dog Baby Jake died today. It broke my stepmom's heart and mine too. I went and got her and we went to get Jake cremated. Then we came to my house and my son, daughter-in-love and grandson came over. We ate, laughed and played amid the sadness in our hearts. Nothing big, just spending time together enjoying eachother. That was the oil of joy that I desperately needed for my sad heart today. The only thing that would have made it better would be for my daughter, granddaughters and mom to be here. I know I will see them soon though.

There is verse in the Bible that I love because it is me...

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.  II Corinthians 4:7-9

Tonight, I am reminded of the everlasting mercy and grace of God and His indescribable love for us all. I will never look at my jewelry armoire the same again.

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there, but most especially to my mom. I love you momma!!

Thoughts on Grief

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

5/4/22

I had brain surgery in December 2020. I was barely recovered from that and my mom nearly died last summer. Then my stepdad died of COVID in the middle of my mom being so sick from an infection after major surgery. I had to move her from Florida to Oklahoma in with me. That was no easy task. I no sooner got her settled in and my father got real sick. He had knee surgery that turned into an infection.

I worked from home every day and then would go take care of my dad all evening and sometimes all night. He was in/out of hospitals. This started November last year. Somewhere in the middle of this nightmare he contracted COVID while in the hospital. Between the massive infection and COVID it tore my father's body apart. I was with him through it all even though it tore my heart to pieces. He made his transition to the arms of the Lord on February 11th. I held his hand till he died.

My family is a twisted up dysfunctional mess. Death brings out the ugly in people and it sure brought it out in mine, who by the way were nowhere to be found when my father was sick and dying. I helped my stepmom with my father's cremation and memorial service. Everyone who was not there to help my dad before he died suddenly had an opinion on his service. My stepmom shut them all down and put me in charge since I was the oldest. Horrible lies were spread on social media by the dysfunctional ones. They said that we had COVID and were hoping to infect people with it at the memorial service. It obviously was not true, but it scared alot of people away. I officiated the memorial service since we couldn't find anyone else. It was small, intimate and heartbreakingly beautiful.

There are days that I feel okay and can keep myself distracted with various things to do. Then there are the days that grief grabs me by the throat and slams me to the ground over and over again. The things that have helped me hold on every day are my relationship with my God and my kids and grandkids. I pray all the time, not because I'm so holy and put together; but because I am a wretched human being that is falling apart inside most days. I try to remember to be still and know that He is God, He is there with me in the midst of the sorrow and I watch for hellos from Heaven. Grief is a journey that we all experience differently but it helps to shoulder the burden together so I reach out to others when I need help. I try to remember that I am not alone and remind myself of something a dear friend always tells me...don't forget to breathe. 🙏🏼❤️🙏🏼

Goodbye Too Soon

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

4/25/22

I was going through some unpacked boxes today and found this. I did not know when I made this print back in 2004 that it would mean so much to me now. Even the title speaks to my heart. My father was in the Navy. This is the picture in my heart of what it felt like to say goodbye to him when he died. I wanted to hold on to him forever. Yet, he is the one still holding me from the other side. I love you daddy!! ❤️

Leading My Daddy Home

Leading My Daddy Home 

Easter 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

16 years ago my granddaughter Zoey died and I thought that I would never feel the depths of sorrow and despair like I did with her. Boy was I wrong. Do not misunderstand me, I am very grateful that God chose me to lead my father home. Yet, it came with a heavy price inside my heart.

I was there with him through the longest journey in our lives together. It lasted over 3 months. All I did was work all day and go take care of him all evening and night every single day. There were happy times, very beautiful times and sad times.

The night before he died God told me, "Take off work tomorrow, you have to be with him to lead him home." I did just that even though it felt as if my heart was being torn apart. There is nowhere else I would have been. I loved him that deeply. 

I held his hand the whole time, he never let it go. I remember looking into his eyes just before he passed. I never realized what beautiful, captivating blue eyes he had until that moment. We locked eyes and he looked into my heart and I into his. I told him to go home, that it was okay, I would be fine and I would find my way back to him again some day. Then he took his last breath and made his transition to the arms of God.

I have no doubt that he is happy. He is at peace and free of the illness that plagued him on this side. I understand he is the blessed one and the tears I cry are for me. I am the one left here in this crazy world and it feels like my dad is a million miles away. Yet, I would not trade a moment of spending my father's last days with him for anything. I feel grateful and humbled at the thought that my Creator chose me to lead my father home. 

I am sorry I am rambling. I think I am just beginning to process it all and understand the sacred, holy, spiritual experience I went through with my father. Maybe I will not fully comprehend the magnitude of the journey we took together until I make it to Heaven with him some day. I do not know. I just feel so completely grateful that we were together through it all and I could help lead my daddy home.

I Heard Your Cry

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Easter 2022

Painting is very spiritual to me. It is as if I am at the feet of God's throne and the painting paints me instead of me painting it. This painting is one that God painted for me. While I was painting it I kept focusing on the Lord's ear. I didn't understand why so, I asked why. Lord, what are you trying to tell me? Then I heard Jesus say loud and clear, "I heard your cry!" Hence the title for this painting...I Heard Your Cry.

This weekend of all times throughout the year, this image means more to me than ever. 

"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"

I'm so grateful God loves me because of who HE is and not who I am.  Holy, Holy, Holy is my Lord and Savior Jesus!!!

Just BE with Me

April 16, 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I just want this pain

To stop

Losing you

Broke my heart

My mind

And spirit

Like I have never

Known before

I keep grasping

For someone

To throw me

A life jacket

And pull me out of the

Waves of grief

That thrash my body around

And keep sucking me

Into the deep

Everyone keeps telling me to

Pull it together

Get on with life

Get back to normal

Yet when I try

I am like a bumbling bull

In a China closet

Because nothing

Feels normal right now

When I reach out for

Those around me

Who supposedly

Love me the most

I get slapped down

And pushed away

Because grief is

Not all pretty

Or put together

It is ugly

And hideous to see

Much less be the one

Trying to get through it

One breath at a time

Till I am free

Whatever happened to

Tenderness

Compassion

Comfort

Kindness

And unconditional love

All I need is

Those closest to me

To listen

To just be there

Just BE with me

Hold me when I cry

Love me in spite of me

Help me get through

These devastating

Waves of sorrow

Tears do not come

When it is convenient

They overtake me

Out of nowhere

I go spinning

I lose my footing

And I feel lost

So instead of

Criticizing me

Telling me

I am crazy

Be strong

That life goes on

Please just love me

And hold on to me

Through this

Tsunami of grief

Until I can stand

On my own again

48 Days

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

March 31, 2022

Daddy,

It's been 48 days since you died. It doesn't get easier. With each day my heart aches even more. I tried so hard to take care of you and get you well. You weren't supposed to die!! Everything is falling down around me and I need to hear your voice tell me that you love me and you're proud of me again.I miss coming over every Saturday, bringing KFC and having discussions about everything and nothing with you at the same time. Despite our rocky beginning in life, we finished good and strong together. You were my best friend, my safety net in my chaotic life. I'm sure that those who have kicked me when I'm down are basking in some twisted joy at the grief and sorrow I'm in right now. All they cared about was money that never existed. I never cared about material stuff, I just loved you...good, bad and ugly...I just loved you. I still do.

Today, the waves of sorrow are sucking me down deep. It's so hard to breathe. My life jacket is frayed and worn. All I can do is body surf the waves and pray I live through it. I keep reaching for God's hand, hoping He'll pull me up. I just don't feel Him yet.

You were the oldest just like me and I know you tried to prepare me for what life brings to the oldest. It's lonely when your the oldest because everyone expects so much and gives so little back. They think the oldest can handle anything because they're strong. They get mad when the oldest is weak and needs help. They take and take and never give back. When there's nothing left to give they leave the oldest drowning in the waves. At least that's how our family is.

Daddy, as I became an adult, got sober and we worked through our stuff together, you became my safe place to land in this crazy world. It feels like I've went skydiving and my parachute won't open. I have no safe place to land anymore! I'm so weak and tired. I would give anything to just sit and hold your hand all evening again. I don't know how to get through this other than 1 second, 1 minute, 1 day at a time.

I know I told you in the last minutes of your life to go home to God, that I'd be okay. I'd get through it. Right now, it feels like I lied because I miss you so bad. I know I'll get through this wave, I have to so I make you proud. I know God will grab my hand and pull me through eventually.

In the end the only thing that survives is the love we shared.The depth of sorrow I feel is the price I pay for loving you so much...and the greatest of these is love.

Love you forever Daddy,
Andi ❤

Goodbye My Daddy

1:28am February 16, 2022

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I got a thousand things running through my mind

It feels like peace I'll never find

I kept holding on to the hope that you'd pull through

Yet it wasn't meant to be

I'd give anything to just sit and hold your hand all evening

And pray with you again

I don't know how to get back up from horrid blow

I don't understand why you suffered so

Or why you had to go

How am I supposed to keep living

When I've lost my best friend

My voice of wisdom in the chaos of my life

My hero, the one who always had my back

Through thick and thin

I stood there by you and held your hand

While your heartbeat slowed

And you took your breath

I was forced to let you go

I don't know how to get back up from this

Yet I look at my children and grandchildren

And I know why I'm still here

The last thing you told me was

Take care of everyone

I love you

I know...love never fails

Life isn't fair

And Heaven is so far away

Yet one breath close

So my sweet daddy

Till we meet again at God's throne

Please send me signs once in awhile

So I know that you're still with me

In the love we shared

Goodbye my Daddy

Till we meet again

Ramblings About Adventure, Elephants and Turtles

Ramblings About Adventure, Elephants and Turtles 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

I am not sure what lesson or workshop this would correspond to. Honestly, I do not think it matters. What matters is what I am hearing and seeing from my Creator aka the Universe. When I started this adventure with Mike Dooley and all the other participants I had no expectations. I literally entered this on a whim. I had been feeling excited and happy because I was just able to purchase my own home in November 2021. When I read Mike’s description of the course and listened to his video about manifesting it clicked with me. See, I know I manifested my home. I said a prayer and started knocking on doors. Like Mike says, knock on one door and maybe a different one will open. 

My credit score is in the 500s. If you were to look at my situation with what I call fleshly eyes it was impossible to qualify for a mortgage and pointless to try. Yet, when I looked at it from my spiritual eyes something pushed me to take  action. Weird as it sounds, it felt as if all the stars and planets were aligned and I had to pursue this or I would miss the opportunity altogether. So, I kept knocking on doors. Something in my heart said get completely approved first. I applied at several  different mortgage places and got the door slammed in my face. I kept knocking on doors. Finally, after about a month, to my amazement, I found a place that was able to get me approved up front before I even started looking!! 

I found a realtor that was willing to work hard for me. We looked all spring and summer last year. We looked at least 2 or 3 evenings a week and on Saturdays. We looked at probably at least 10 houses a week. I put in several offers that got declined because of the crazy housing market where I live. Every time I was declined my realtor would say, “Don’t lose hope Andrea. We just haven’t found the one that is yours yet. My job is to help you get your dream come true…your forever home.” Now  I would be lying if I said I never got discouraged. I most certainly did. Yet, I kept “acting as if”. I figured it was only a matter of time before I found the home God had for me. 

The very moment I stepped into the home I eventually bought, this incredible peace and overwhelming joy came over me like a warm blanket being wrapped around me after coming in from shoveling snow on a cold, winter day. It just felt right, like I had always been there or was there before lifetimes ago. Another thing that I found interesting is that it is located right across the street from the elementary school that I attended as a child. That was the happiest time in my childhood. I had a very dysfunctional childhood  and right after we moved from this school my life turned very bad and I was abused. It has taken many years of therapy, meditation and other tools to recover from it. There have been many times in my life that I wished I could go back to that school where I felt safe, loved and at peace. That is exactly how I feel in my home now. 

If you would have asked me where my forever home would be I would have never chosen this one on my own. I would have been in a different part of town altogether. Yet, God knew my heart  better than I did and gave me something “OR BETTER”. For the first time in many, many years I feel at peace and I have this level of happiness and joy inside me that is not shaken by the outside chaos in my life. I am so grateful to God for giving me and leading me to this home. 

When I saw Mike’s invitation to this workshop and I heard him say “manifest” I knew I had to step through the door that just opened. He said things that explained what I had just been through with finding my home. So, I signed up. I am  the type of “student” that is always current with my assignments and one step ahead if possible. That has not been the case with this workshop. I have been two steps behind most of the time. It was troubling to me but I have kept going at what I described is “as slow as a turtle”. Remember my reference to the turtle, you will understand it in a few. Anyway, I have taken stolen moments to myself when I can to listen Mike’s videos and do the assignments in the workbook. I am still not caught up but I decided the other day to just accept it and  keep going along through the course.

I am Native American of the Cherokee tribe and from the Wolf Clan. I believe that God uses animals to speak to me in different ways. I have experienced things with birds, cats, squirrels, wolves, etc. I have always loved elephants and have collected them my whole life. For many years I could not display my entire collection of elephants because I had no room. I kept them wrapped up in boxes and drug them around with me every time I moved. The home God gave me has the most beautiful shelves and we added more. The other day I finally got all my elephants on display again!! This has gotten my creative juices going again. 

I have a patio door on the back wall of my living room and I got the idea to get rid of the patio vertical blinds. I hate them because they fall out all the time. So, I started looking for some privacy film online. One click lead to another and I stumbled on the coolest looking mural made out of the same kind of film that I could put on the patio door windows. I am an artist and I like things that are quirky and strange, yet beautiful. This one mural caught my eye. It has three elephants that look like they are standing under a tree and they are riding on the back of a sea turtle in the ocean. 

The imagery and symbolism of the mural grabbed my heart and I saved it to show my stepmom. She is an artist and Native American as well. The first thing she said was, “Oh my God, Andrea!! The turtle is very sacred to Native Americans. It  is used in so many stories. This is so awesome! The Creator is speaking to you through the turtle.” I got goose bumps everywhere and started thinking of the work I have been doing in Mike’s workshop. I had to study the symbolism of the turtle now!!

Turtles represent wisdom, healing, spirituality, safety, protection, health and longevity to most tribes. In particular, Cherokees see the turtle as a symbol of unfailing devotion and steady progress. Turtles are also seen as contributing to creation. All I can say is my mind is blown! My maiden name is Native American. It is Tadpole, another water animal. All this symbolism around me is as if the Universe is alive and speaking to me everywhere I turn! 

The reason I have not gone as “fast” as I think I should  through this workshop is because I am caring for my mother who lives with me while she recovers from back surgery. I am also having to help my father who has two bad infections. NO, it is not COVID. He has been in the hospital for a couple of months now. I always pray a prayer of protection over him, my mom, my stepmom and myself. I realized the Universe is trying tell me that my family and I are being protected so slow down and trust the process.

Realizing what the Universe is trying to tell me through the turtle is so comforting and honestly makes me want to dance around the house in joy!! I cannot wait to see what else this adventure teaches and brings me!!