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!!

What Can I Say About My Mom?

What Can I Say About My Mom?

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

What can I say about my mom?
She is my best friend
My confidant
My voice of peace
In the chaos of my life
She is my guiding light
Back to the One who loves us all
As a child she comforted me
And bandaged my wounds
As a woman she has been
My oil of joy for mourning
My garment of praise
For the spirit of heaviness
That often plagues me
She knows me better than anyone else
She is the voice of prayer, healing and love
Over the phone every day
Despite being miles away
At the end of my life
If I can look back and know
That I have been as good a mom as mine
Then I will know I have done well
Yet I know that will never happen
Because her shoes are too big to fill
In spite of her tiny feet
I only hope I can make her proud
I love you momma ❤

Alice Tarrant I love you more than I have words to say. Have a beautiful Mother's Day today. We will be together again soon.

~ Andrea ~

My Dog Buster

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I have to tell you the story of my dog Buster aka Dave aka Chucky. I was devastated when my dog Reggie died last September. Then things went bad with my fractured leg and brain surgery in December. It has been quite a tough row to hoe for me. I started feeling better and began looking for another dog a couple of months ago but doors kept slamming in my face. A week or so ago I saw a dog named "Dave" on ARFs website. The ad said his owner turned him in because they were too sick to care for him. I met "Dave" last week and loved him. I got to pick him up Monday. I finally got around to putting tags on his collar today and realized the tag from his previous owner was till there. The owner's phone number and the name Chucky was on engraved on it.

I know from how well taken care of and how friendly Buster is that whoever gave him to animal welfare did not do it easily. I am sure their heart was broken. So, I texted the number on the tag and asked if they use to have a dog named Chucky. A couple of hours later an elderly sounding lady called me. I explained to her how her dog came into my life and how much I love him. She burst out in tears and told me how much she loved her dog but that she was unable to walk or care for him anymore. She said it broke her heart to give him up but she prayed that God would bring someone to love him and care for him. I told her that we could stay in touch and someday soon Buster and I would come visit her. She said that would be wonderful.

The lady also told me that Buster is very smart. She said she was diabetic. She explained that even though he wasn't trained to, he could sense when her blood sugar would get too low and alert her and he even woke her up at night if needed. I told her about Reggie, my hearing dog that died. We talked for a few minutes like long lost friends.

I know that God has a plan for us all and He even cares for animals. It's strangely beautiful how Buster and I clicked at once as if we always knew each other. He just fits right in my life. God made his previous owner's path cross with mine too. I believe it was for a reason. If for nothing more than to soothe a tired woman's heart with the reassurance that her beloved pet was safe and loved in his new home.

One last thing...

Not everyone who surrenders a pet to animal welfare does it because they hate the animal. Sometimes they have no choice, as in this case. So, if you're looking for a pet, pray and look for one to adopt. God will lead you to one who needs you as much as you need them.

My Thoughts About My Higher Power

Meetings, helping others, doing your daily work, reading the book so that your not an empty vessel is only the tip of the iceberg in staying sober. I personally had to change my whole friggin life! For me, the most important and most difficult part of my recovery in the beginning was the spiritual part. Yet, God blessed me with a sponsor who demanded I find a Higher Power because she, nor anyone else in the rooms, especially men were not my High Power. She drove into me the reality that if I chose to try and stay sober without a Higher Power I'd be screwed because I would surely drink again and for me, to drink is to die. So, I have studied every religion I could find. I've read a plethora of books on spirituality, meditation, etc. I even at one point practiced white magic. All on my journey to find my Higher Power. The damndest thing happened on my road of recovery, I had a powerful spiritual awakening. My Higher Power came to me and saved my life. This was about 5 years sober. My Higher Power turned out to be the One I avoided for so long, the God of my childhood faith. Today my Higher Power has many names. Among my favorites are Adonai, Abba Father, Jehovah Jira, Jehovah Rapha, El Shaddai, Elohim, and of course Jesus. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a churchy person. Organized religion left a bad taste in my mouth many times. I frankly stay away from church so I can hold on to my relationship with the Lord. If you need church go for it, just don't judge me for not going. Many a bigot sets in church and will never make it to the pearly gates. I don't ever find myself so arrogant as to force my spiritual beliefs on anyone. What I do is point the way for them to start their own journey. Where one ends up is up to them. The 12 steps are not something we work once and graduate. They are a lifelong endeavor. I worked the steps over and over until the steps worked me. Now they are who I am. I only hope and pray that others find their own way too. Sadly, most do not and they go back out and die. I'm not willing to take that risk today.

My Thoughts on Racism

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

March 13, 2021

This was something I wrote in response to a Facebook post on racism:

I totally understand outrage at people disrespecting the flag. I also understand the outrage of racism. I personally think anyone who burns the flag should be arrested and sit in jail for it. Burning it is the ultimate disrespect to our country and our soldiers who fought under that flag. Kneeling during the anthem has never been offensive to me. I figure it's a form of prayer to God for our nation and frankly God is the only one who can help us at this point. Having said all that, your comment brought to my my mind the following. Racism is not just a white and black thing. People act as if Blacks are the only ones discriminated against. That is so not true. 

Racism exists in this country against many colors. I personally lived with a man from El Salvador for many years. He came here legally and became a citizen. He had a job at a local college in the cafeteria. He worked with several self proclaimed African Americans. They used racial slurs against him every day. He was called a "wet back" and told to "swim back" all the time. They called him a "monkey" because he "looked like one". He went to HR and asked for help and filed a complaint. Nothing was done. He was harassed worse to the point that he walked off the job and never looked back. How was that okay? If you do not want to be discriminated against it would seem to me you shouldn't do it to others. Yet it happens every day. I think the term is reverse discrimination. Frankly, nothing you could say to justify it would make it ok in my mind. Racism is wrong no matter where it comes from.

I used to spend a lot of time in the Eastern US, in particular Pittsburgh, PA. I was shocked at the segregation and racism there on all sides. My husband at the time happened to be Polish and lived in the "Polish" part of the city. Any time we would venture out to a different part be in white, Italian, Black, Hispanic, Asian, etc you could count on the fact that someone would start telling Pollock jokes. You know, "how many Pollocks does it take to" whatever. I would be ready to kick ass and take names and my husband would pull me back and tell me to ignore it. Half the time he would laugh at the jokes just to make the racist idiots go away. So, how is racism couched in funny jokes ok? In my opinion they're not.

I myself have experienced racism within my own Native American tribe because I look "too white". Yet, I have proof some of my ancestors died on the Trail of Tears. Did you happen to know that Native Americans are the only race in the US that has to carry an ID proving they are Native American? How messed up is that? What if African Americans had to do that? It wouldn't be pretty would it? Also, my Native American grandfather who was not racist at all taught me to love all people. He was alive during the Oklahoma land rush and lived to be 104. He told me one time that he remembered when there was the white and black restrooms and sections in restaurants. He said while he did not agree with any of it, but at least Blacks had a section, water fountain, restroom, etc. Native Americans were treated like dogs and not allowed anywhere. How is this so easily forgotten?

My point is Blacks, African Americans or whatever you choose to describe them as are not the only ones to experience racism. Racism runs deep across ALL races and is insidious in this country. It will not stop until ALL RACES, African American included stop doing it.

Rant over....

The Little Things

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

February 2, 2021

As most of you know, I had major brain surgery on December 28th last year. They went up through my nose so if you look at me you cannot tell. The recovery journey for me has been very difficult. I was afraid I would be a vegetable or something after surgery. I am grateful that I woke up with all my faculties, I can walk and I have my memory.

The worst part of my recovery has been the headaches, brain fog and horribly debilitating fatigue. I am the kind of person that works 40 to 50 hours a week, buys groceries, cleans, cooks, visits my dad and my son when I can. I love to go running around town with my 2 oldest granddaughters, get my nails done and stuff like that. I am always doing something and rarely sit still. This surgery has forced me to stay down and rest. I have actually taken naps every day. I did not even do that when I was a child, much less as an adult.

My Neurosurgeon said the headaches, fog and fatigue would slowly start to lift in about 6 six weeks after surgery. I am coming up on that time. In the last few days my thinking has started to clear. Thank God, I hate brain fog! I have started feeling a little more like myself. I am nowhere near 100% but I am slowly making progress and progress is good.

I have begun to truly understand how important it is to be grateful and take joy in the little things. A couple of days ago I was hungry one evening and my husband had not cooked yet. He has cooked, cleaned and done laundry for me almost every day since my surgery. I wanted to fix something for him so he could rest. I started thinking about what I could cook that would be easy and would not require me to stand up long. I decided on grilled cheese sandwiches. I was so proud of myself when I got done making them. Today, my husband took me to get my hair cut and I dyed it myself this evening. It made me feel good to do a couple of small things to take care of myself.

Most people, even me, would think those are just little things. However, I remember years ago, when I first got sober my sponsor telling me and my mom also reminded me the other day that every little step I take will eventually turn into a big step. I can see in the pictures I included with this how far I have come. The one with the strings in my nose was after surgery and the other was today. I am getting better little by little day by day.

So, tonight I am celebrating the little things. Besides I love hair dye because it hides the gray!! 😊

My Rainbow Reminder Today

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

January 30, 2021

I made myself get out and go to the store around the corner today. It is the first time I have gotten out in a while. On the way to the store I was praying. I tend pray in the car alot. So, I was asking God to please make a way for me through all this recovery from this brain surgery. It has been a scary, hard road. I said, "Lord bring me through it, around, over it, under it, part the red sea...whatever, just please get me well already!!" About that time I came to a 4-way stop, I looked to my left for traffic and there in the sky was a rainbow in the middle of some clouds. I pulled over to snap a picture so I would not forget the moment. Then, on the way home storm clouds were getting close. I got about a half a block from home and there was another rainbow!! I pulled over and snapped another picture.

I got home and looked back to where I knew the rainbow was. I could not see it because it was blocked by houses and trees. Yet, I knew it was there. It gave me a warm and peaceful feeling inside. We all know that rainbows are a sign of God's promise to Noah, but I also see them as a promise to me. A reminder that He's always there and never going to leave me. Even when the worldly clamors and trials of life block my view, just like these rainbows today, God is always there, whether I see Him or not. I just have to keep the faith and take the next step.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKEY

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKEY 

Today, January 30th is my grandson Michael Aidyn Jude Zelsnack's 13th birthday. I always called him Mikey. He was stillborn. He has a little brother named Michael who just turned 2. He proudly bares the name Michael from his older brother. They are both named after their grandfather and great grandfather who are both in Heaven now. Mikey is there with them, his big sister Zoey and a host of other family and friends who have made their final trip to Heaven too.

I am one who believes when we die our spirits do not lay around in a grave. Our spirits go to Heaven where we are welcomed home by the Lord, God and all those who died before us. Call me crazy but that is what my heart tells me and that is what I will believe till I die. 

A day does not go by without me thinking about my grandchildren, those still here on this earth and those is Heaven. I have a few grandchildren in Heaven, not just Michael and Zoey. There are others who I never got to meet due to miscarriages. Yet, they were all alive and a part of me and I love them with all my heart. 

I know Mikey must be so beautiful! I can only imagine the party his grandfather and great grandfather are throwing for him. And in the presence of Lord?! Nothing could be better than that!! Every year on Mikey's birthday I stop and remember him. I post a poem I wrote for him. It's at the end of this. 

Happy Birthday my beautiful Mikey! Tell Zoey and all the others how desperately I miss you all. I love you!

Ode to Mikey

by Andrea Tadpole

Written on Apr 14, 2010

Born on a stormy sea of silence

His tiny life beyond my grasp

His spirit carried away on angel's wings

With all my hopes and dreams

I never got to see him smile

I never saw his eyes

I never felt his tender touch

Or listened to his cries

Waves of sorrow pulled me down

To horrid depths of grief

I feared I'd never reach the top

Breathe free or find relief

What was his purpose

Why was he here

Why was he meant to be

There had to be a lesson

If I could only see

Then I heard him in the silence

Calling out my name

Rise up, go home and live your life

Walk on amidst the pain

Take care of those I've left behind

Never let them go

Forgive them even if it hurts

And when your pride says no

Hold tight to God

Keep the faith

And then you'll see

That I am always with you 

I am happy

I am free

Biden's Inauguration Today 1/20/21

I have not posted much lately. I had brain surgery on 12/28/20. It's been a long road and slow recovery. I'll explain more later. I wanted to post my favorite part of Biden's Inauguration so I don't lose it. This young poet is phenomenal. I wish I could write like her. 

Any country that can produce Amanda Gorman is a country with a bright future.  #AmandaGorman.  She is twenty-two years old. Enjoy the read...😊

When day comes, we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade?

The loss we carry.

A sea we must wade.

We braved the belly of the beast.

We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace, and the norms and notions of what “just” is isn’t always justice.

And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it.

Somehow we do it.

Somehow we weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken, but simply unfinished.

We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president, only to find herself reciting for one.

And, yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect.

We are striving to forge our union with purpose.

To compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions of man.

And so we lift our gaze, not to what stands between us, but what stands before us.

We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside.

We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another.

We seek harm to none and harmony for all.

Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true.

That even as we grieved, we grew.

That even as we hurt, we hoped.

That even as we tired, we tried.

That we’ll forever be tied together, victorious.

Not because we will never again know defeat, but because we will never again sow division.

Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid.

If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in all the bridges we’ve made.

That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb, if only we dare.

It’s because being American is more than a pride we inherit.

It’s the past we step into and how we repair it.

We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation, rather than share it.

Would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy.

And this effort very nearly succeeded.

But while democracy can be periodically delayed, it can never be permanently defeated.

In this truth, in this faith we trust, for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us.

This is the era of just redemption.

We feared at its inception.

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour.

But within it we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves.

So, while once we asked, how could we possibly prevail over catastrophe, now we assert, how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us?

We will not march back to what was, but move to what shall be:

A country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free.

We will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation, become the future.

Our blunders become their burdens.

But one thing is certain.

If we merge mercy with might, and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.

So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left.

Every breath from my bronze-pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one.

We will rise from the golden hills of the West.

We will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution.

We will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states.

We will rise from the sun-baked South.

We will rebuild, reconcile, and recover.

And every known nook of our nation and every corner called our country, our people diverse and beautiful, will emerge battered and beautiful.

When day comes, we step out of the shade of flame and unafraid.

The new dawn balloons as we free it.

For there is always light,

if only we’re brave enough to see it.

If only we’re brave enough to be it

Happy Birthday Michael

I did this video mainly to wish my little grandson Michael a happy birthday early. He will be 2 in 2 days and I am 58 today. Its also for my family and friend. Thank you for loving me through my crazy life!! Happy Birthday Michael!!!

Happy Birthday Michael <<click here to view the video!

Update On My Head

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

For those of you who care (all 2 of you who read my blog), I was hospitalized a year ago this past summer for unknown vision and balance issues. They never could figure out what it was. I don't know if things got better or if I got tired of being jacked around by doctors who didn't really care. Or, its possible I just accepted this "new normal" and ignored it. I don't know. Fast forward to this summer, I was in a car wreck (not my fault). I wasn't injured but my head was sloshed around and made me feel wonky for a few minutes. A couple of weeks after that I noticed when I would look down some kind of water-like fluid would randomly drip out of one side of my nose. It kept getting worse so I went to the doctor. Since then I have fallen 3 different times and fractured my right leg.

After again, being treated like I was crazy and me going bad ass bitch on Indian Health Care, I got referrals done and tests run. I finally saw an ENT right before Thanksgiving and had labs done to see if the fluid randomly dripping out of my left nostril was cerebral spinal fluid or not. My doctor personally called me today and confirmed that I have a cerebral spinal fluid leak somewhere in the lining between my skull and brain. He is not sure where the leak is.

So, here is the game plan...

1. Guided CT scan in the next few days once referral is done. He wants to determine exactly where the leak is and make sure there is nothing else there, no others tumors or cysts.

2. He wants me to see an ophthalmologist to make sure nothing is pressing on my optic nerve.

3. His partner is a Neuro surgeon. He wants him to look me over since he will be assisting during eventual surgery. 

4. Once all that is done he will know exactly what he is dealing with and whether he is going thru my nose or through my skull to patch the leak.

5. He will try to do surgery between Christmas and New Years if he can get all this done by then and find a surgery suite available due to COVID causing a shortage. It may be in mid January though.

I have said all that to say this...

I work hard all the time. I rarely ask for help, although I'm very grateful when it comes. My parents especially, have always been there and show up amazingly in the knick of time. Us parents are like that. Since I got sober, I have always been the strong one that my little circle knows they can count on. The problem I have grappled with most of my life is when I'm weak people don't believe it or understand because I'm always strong. Its not until I'm completely down that they realize I wasn't kidding when I said I'm not ok. Well, right now I AM PHYSICALLY TIRED. I AM A LITTLE CONCERNED ABOUT WHAT IS AHEAD. I won't say I'm scared. I just do not like the unknown. I'm am exhausted. I'm doing all I can right now to work and keep my household running. I'm not going to die from this. I will get through it. However, I'd much rather have a little reassurance and help when I need it while I'm trudging through this. I have to stay in as much as possible to avoid being exposed to meningitis and COVID of course.  

So, I am asking you, if you are in my circle please, at least take the time to text me or private message me and ask how I'm doing, send me an inspirational quote, a funny meme or whatever. It only takes a few seconds and soothes my heart. I just need to know I'm not alone. Most of all, please pray for me. I believe in the power of prayer. When I reply with "🙏🙏🙏" on a post I mean I am praying and believe me, I do. I may not talk to you every day, but I pray. So please just say one for me. I will come up for air and keep everyone updated as I can. 

Rant over...thanks! 💖🙏

My Little Kaylee Bug

In honor of my beautiful granddaughter Kaylee's 18th birthday I am reposting something I wrote for her 10 years ago. I cannot believe she is officially an adult. She is beautiful in every and I am so blessed to be her grandmother.  I love you Kaylee. Happy birthday!! 💖💖💖

My Little Kaylee Bug

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

Written 12/8/2010

One day when I was adrift

Angels brought me

A beautiful gift

With dark hair

Bright eyes

And a shining smile

You toddled right into my life

And brought me joy from above

At first I approached you with hesitation

Because I already loved you so

And I was afraid you'd have to go

I withheld my affection for a time

And waited on the sidelines

While I watched you grow

Then on that first Gotcha Day

When you became ours for good

I could finally show the love

I had hidden in my heart so long

For you see

You've always been my granddaughter

From the moment our eyes first met

But on our Gotcha Day

You were mine forever

And I knew you'd never go away

No, never

I know God brought you

From heaven above

With your bubbly smile

And your big heart of love

So, when life is no longer amusing

When you feel sad and blue

When the road before you is confusing

And you haven't got a clue what to do

Hold on tight to Jesus

He'll always see you through

But most of all remember

Your GeGe is looking out for you

So today here I am

It's your 8th birthday

And we're celebrating your life

Happy Birthday

My Little Kaylee Bug

I love you forever

For I'm your GeGe

Don't you see

My Little Red Tea Kettle

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

I did something for myself that I have been putting off for 20 years or more. It is a simple thing and not expensive but every little thing would get in the way. I finally went and bought myself a little red tea kettle that whistles. It cost a whole $14. So, why have I put it off so long when I made plenty of money to buy it? I cannot answer that riddle other than to say that I put me last all the time. 

When I moved in to my new rent house I promised myself I would treat myself with a tea kettle So, I went to the store. I wanted one that was silver like my grandmother Mary's but the red one kept calling out to me. I took it home and I have enjoyed having tea and coffee from it. Something about hearing the whistle of it soothes me.

Tonight I was waiting on the water to boil so my little red tea kettle would start whistling. I had planned to nestle into my recliner with a warm cup of tea and watch my favorite TV show. Yet, here I am writing instead.

As I stood there waiting for my tea kettle to whistle my mind was swept back to my grandmother's kitchen. Her nightly ritual after cooking and cleaning was to sit at the table and have her last cup of coffee for the day. She loved Taster's Choice instant coffee. If you happened to be there she would summon you to put the kettle on and make her coffee. She had to have 1 heaping teaspoon of coffee, 2 teaspoons of sugar and a teaspoon of powdered cream. When I was too little to make it she would make her some and make me up cup of "girl coffee" in this miniature China teacup. The "girl coffee" was mostly warm milk, but I always felt special sitting with her at the table drinking our coffee together. I remember one day when I was about 13 she announced I was ready for real coffee. I was so happy because now I could quit sneaking an extra spoonful of instant coffee in my cup behind her back. 

As the years went on I spent many an evening at my grandmother's table drinking coffee. We talked about nothing and everything all at the same time. We laughed, we argued and we cried. She would try to impart wisdom to me sometimes but it was as if she was speaking a foreign language to me. I just knew she would never understand me. Low and behold, I often have epiphanies about things she told me today. It seems I suddenly speak the language of my elders. 

Many times other women would be there around the table. Thanksgiving usually brought in my mother, Aunt Jessie and Aunt Frankie. I loved it when they were there. We would laugh and tell jokes. All these memories of days gone by when I was young and did not have a care in the world are etched on my heart and in my mind. I felt safe and warm there. 

So, I stood there tonight looking at my little red tea kettle, waiting on it to whistle. My mind was flooded with memories. I thought about what strong women I have in my family, especially my grandmother and mother. I am truly blessed to have been raised by them even into adulthood. They never gave up on me, even when they should have. 

Then, just as my little red tea kettle started to whistle, I realized my grandmother told one day that her favorite color was red. Tears rolled down my face. I knew that this was my grandmother's way of reaching across the great divide to tell me she is with me. See, I have alot on my plate to deal with right now. In many ways I am just like her in my little family. I am the strong one that everyone assumes will always be there with a cup of warm soothing coffee at the table of life and I often feel no one is there for me. 

I did not understand the treasure I had right in front of me in my grandmother until it was too late. Yet, I was there when she took her last breath. That was many, many years ago but it feels like yesterday. When I need to feel her near me I will get my little red tea kettle out, let it whistle, poor me a cup of instant coffee and feel my grandmother's presence with me again.

I love you grandma! 💖

My New Pairs of Glasses

My New Pairs of Glasses

By Andrea Tadpole-Brousssrd 

It is funny how something little like getting new glasses yesterday can be the catalyst to perk me up a little. I have been putting off dying my hair for 2 months now. I felt so happy about my new glasses that I dyed it today.

I am reminded of an awesome book called "A New Pair of Glasses". In it, the author talks about putting on "a new pair of glasses" or changing one's perspective in life in order to find peace, serenity and sobriety.

My new pairs of glasses made me happy today. In this crazy world I will take anything good from wherever it comes from, even my new pairs of glasses. 🤓😎🥸😜

You Are Not Alone

Wrote this for a friend who is having a hard time. Figured I'd post it here in hopes it will help someone else...

You Are Not Alone 

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard

I'm right there with you. Life is hard. 2020 has been hell on earth. COVID has everyone running in circles. We don't know from one day to the next if they are going to shut everything down again. Should we run and stock up on toilet paper again or what? The news reports say people are dying by the thousands. Yet, we still gotta get up and go to work, pay bills, buy food, and if you have school aged kids figure out how to keep their education going. Cars break down, family members get sick, etc. It goes on and on.

During the worst of the pandemic and shutdown I drove for Lyft 12 hours a day to make ends meet. God protected me and I did not get COVID. I was in a car wreck in June and people lied and I got the ticket. It was my brand new car too! I look back and right when I needed it God blessed me with a direct full time job in July. Then, I was forced to move. That wasn't in my plan but God blessed me with a decent home in a quiet neighborhood. Right before I moved my beloved service dog Reggie died. That broke my heart. Just as I was getting unpacked I fell and fractured my leg. Went to the doctor for that and also found out that as a result of the car wreck I have a cerebral spinal fluid leak. I was told no weight bearing and stay down as much as possible till they can get referrals and appointments for my brain problem. Oh, and I forgot to mention the job I got was remote at home...another blessing! So, I have spent the bulk of my time in my recliner working.

Do I have moments where I freak out and have bitch sessions with God about how I can't take anymore? Oh hell yeah! I'm human and I'm certain I'm a direct decendant of Doubting Thomas. I get up every day and ask Jesus to let me stick my finger in His side to make sure He's real. He always pulls His shirt up, smiles and tells me to go ahead. He understands how insecure I am inside and loves me anyway...how sweet His amazing grace is!!

I'm telling you all this to let you know...YOU ARE NOT ALONE. We are all out here in this crazy world struggling to get by and keep hope alive. The most terrifying feeling I had when everything shut down was realizing if my children and grandchildren asked me what do I would have to tell them that I don't know. So, I got quiet and heard the Lord say, "Tell them to pray and do the next right thing." I have since told them that and we are all making it through day by day.

I remember a time over 20 years ago when I was at work in panic inside over my 15 year old daughter being pregnant. I was scared and had no clue what to do. A random meeting at coffee pot sent an angel you know as your momma into my life. She saw me fighting back tears and pulled me into a break room and told me about you and the church you guys went to. You know the rest of the story. And look how awesome those 2 babies and their teen mommas turned out! You are all very beautiful inside and out.

God has continually carried us all through all kinds of stuff. I know you're tired and it feels like your boat is slamming all over the ocean. But, you know who is fixing to wake up a calm the storm. Pray harder than you ever have in your life. I know I am. Keep your eyes on Jesus. He will make a way. I am not just saying it when I say I'm praying for you. I am and my prayers avail much.

I'll get off my soapbox now. Be still and know my friend! 🙏💜🙏

For My Daddy on Veterans Day 2020

I am reposting this for my daddy Elmer Tadpole Jr for Veteran's Day tomorrow. He probably won't read it because he never logs in to Facebook, but that's ok. He knows how I feel. I wrote this a long time ago and have been able to add more notches to his walking stick since then. He's one of my best friends today. He served in the Navy on the USS Hornet. I am very proud of him. I love you daddy!!

The Walking Stick

by Andrea Tadpole

Written Christmas 1999 for my Dad

Dear Dad,

I have been thinking about what I wanted to write you for a long while now. The present I bought you is more symbolic than anything else, however I hope you use it all the time.

My mind is flipping from scene to scene; each scene is a memory from my childhood. Remember all the car wrecks I had and the knock-down-drag-outs and yelling matches we had when I was a teenager? How could you forget, right? Then there are other memories, the ones I hold the very closest to my heart, the ones I wouldn't sell for a million dollars. One is of when we lived in Okmulgee. It was Christmas time and you bought me some kind of thing that we made cars with. You and I would sit for what seemed like hours and pull these cars along an assembly line as we built them. Another was of me in great anticipation of your return from your business trips, wondering what charm for my bracelet you would bring me this time. Probably the fondest memory of all is the night you took me out on a "date". I think I was probably ten or so. I remember I dressed up real pretty and mom did my hair. You took me to Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips. I felt like the luckiest little girl in the world. Do you remember remodeling the house on West Eighth Street? We put the paneling up in the den and redid the plumbing. I had so much fun with you then. I remember when you walked me down the aisle the first time. I was seventeen, terrified and excited all at once. You looked so handsome in your tuxedo. I remember being so totally captivated by you. You were always my hero, even when I was a teenager and too damn stubborn to admit it, you were my hero.

I have other memories too. These are of me as a woman. You were there for me when no one else wanted to be when I went to treatment. You helped me take care of the kids when I was in college. Another memory is that of when for about a year or so I refused to talk to you. I remember you told me that when I was ready to talk to call. The only regret I have is that it took me so long to get ready. I remember the night I finally called and we talked for at least a couple of hours. You told me you could not change the past, you could only start right where we were and try to make it better. I will forever cherish every time you have given me my sobriety birthday chip in AA. I will especially remember this past year, my thirteenth birthday sober. Every word you said about me is forever etched on my heart. I'm still captivated by you and you are still my hero, you always will be. Someplace deep down inside of me I will always be your "little girl".

So, I said all of that to tell you this story. I heard a preacher teach about the symbolism of Moses and his rod or staff (I call it a walking stick) in the Bible. In Biblical times, a man took his walking stick with him wherever he went. It was a permanent part of him. Since he did not have photographs and most people could not read or write he would log his memories on his walking stick. Each time a significant event occurred, be would cut a notch in his walking stick. So, one could say that a man's walking stick represented his life. A man was married ... add a notch; his father died ... add a notch; his son was born ... add a notch; and so on.

When God told Moses to drop his walking stick before Him, He was really asking Moses to surrender his life to Him. When I heard about this, I started thinking about all the notches in your walking stick. I knew I had to get you one. When I was at the mall, I found one. It was tucked away in the back of the rack and it wasn't quite as pretty as all the other ones. It looked a little banged up and bad knotholes or "notches" all over it. It reminded me of our lives together - a little banged up and rough around the edges - yet strong enough to withstand the test of time. It was perfect!

So you see, my dear daddy, every time you look at this walking stick and you see the notches, pick one out and think of me, your "little Andy". Call to mind a memory. Remember both the pleasant and painful. I believe that we would not be where we are today without going through it all ... good and bad. Most of all remember the day I gave you this gift. Remember that I love you more than I know how to show and never forget that you're still my hero and always will be.

Your Loving Daughter,

Andrea

My Response to a Post About the End Times

By Andrea Tadpole-Brousssrd

I was forced as a kid to attend numerous Bible studies on Revelations and the end times. It caused me to live in fear. As a young mother I remember when they started putting bar codes on groceries and scanning them. Everyone screamed that's the mark of the beast! I prayed one night about this hard because I was taught if you accepted "the mark" you were damned to hell. That never made sense to me. If God is all loving and we are His creation why would He set us up to rot in hell? So, like I said, I prayed hard about this. I told God I would be a liar if I said I would never take a mark to feed my family, because I would. Its not that I hate God, but I love my family and have to care for them. I experienced a peace about it like never before. I heard God say in my spirit, "I know. Its ok. Do what you have to do to survive and I will protect you. Nothing can keep me from loving you. I judge your heart, not whether you take a mark or not. Trust me, I'm in control." After that, I just do not worry about it anymore. So there's my 2 cents worth on it. Have a good night!

Prayer for My Baby Girl

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

I was blessed with this beautiful little girl when I was still a very young woman myself. I named her Alicia Dawn. I had her first name picked out since I was 14 years old. I named her after a younger cousin of mine who I babysat for. I was named after her mom and I thought it would be neat to carry on the tradition. Her middle name came from the fact that she was born at the crack of dawn. So, here I was 21 years old with her and her big brother. I had so much growing up to do. We went through alot together throughout our lives. We have clashed horns, screamed, yelled and cried. Yet we have always found our way back to eachother. 

I always called her my "Sweet Alicia". We took a twisty-windy road to finally bonding with eachother. Yet, today she is my best friend. She has no idea how proud I am of her. I see her today and I think of that tiny little baby and how absolutely beautiful she is inside and out and I am humbled to think that God let me be her mom.

Tonight my heart is heavy because my Sweet Alicia is facing something pretty scary and I cannot be right next to her to protect her like the momma bear inside me wants to. I will not put details out here. I just need all my friends who pray to join in prayer and agreement, so please, just stop for a minute and pray with me...

Father God,

Right now I come to you and I lift my beautiful, Sweet Alicia up to you. Lord you know the thing she is facing right now. Lord, I know that you are our Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. You said in your word to call the things that are not as though they are, so Father I call Alicia healthy and whole. No weapons formed against her shall prosper. Lord give her and all of us around her the peace that passes all understanding. Let us all know to very depths of our spirits that you have Alicia in your hands and she is going to be ok. Lord Jesus, I pray from depths of all that I am that in my absence from her side right now that you bring other angels in human form to help my baby girl with whatever she needs. Bless her coming and going. Father I know that all of Heaven is praying for her too. I also know that the prayers of a mother are the strongest and live on forever. Tonight I am storming the gates of Heaven with prayer for my baby girl. Please wrap Alicia in your arms for me and let her know how much I love her. Please hear our prayers. 

In the mighty name of Jesus. 

Amen and amen!!

Destiny

I love all my grandchildren the same, I just love each of them in a different way. My grandmother always told us that and I understand it more every day.

Destiny is my oldest granddaughter and she started me down the path of being a grandmother. I have been blessed to be a part of her journey through life since she took her first breath. She and I laugh together, argue with eachother and cry together, sometimes all in one day. Yesterday was one of those days and it ended in us holding eachother and crying after Reggie died. Destiny rarely says the words "I love you" to those she loves the deepest, me included. Yet, she always does something out of the blue that screams, "I LOVE YOU" loud and clear. Last night was one of those times. After we got home from the vet she went to the store. When she came back she gave me a container of my favorite ice cream, some reese's peanut butter candy and a little necklace with an "R" on it for Reggie. It's not about the cost, it's about how precious the thought that went into her gift.

I am so amazed at Destiny's beautiful heart. She has grown into such an awesome young woman. She makes me proud. I love Destiny Zelsnack and I know you love me too even if you don't say it. ❤❤❤

Pocket Notebook in My Heart

I wrote this for a friend whose going through a hard time. I hope it helps you too! ❤

Here goes...

Pocket Notebook in My Heart

By Andrea Tadpole-Broussard 

When my granddaughter died I could not save her. I pleaded with God to take me and not her. When my other grandson died a couple of years later I could not save him either and God did not let me switch places. I am the caretaker in my family. I am the oldest and the one who is supposed to be able to fix it all. Well, at least that is what I tell myself. 

The two most difficult losses I have ever endured were my grandkids. What I learned from this is that I am not God and I cannot choose who lives or dies, be it a person or an animal. By the way, in my world I see animals as people too, just in different forms. So, I understand the sorrow of not being able to save them all. I am going to try to explain to you how I deal with things that are what I call unanswerable questions, like why did my grandkids die, why could I not save all those puppies or birds (I am bird person), etc.?

I have been a sober member of AA for 30+ years. When I first got sober I had a sponsor who walked me through the 12 steps. In one part of it, the challenge was to develop a relationship with your Higher Power. I have always called mine God for lack of a better term. Anyway, one of the hardest things I went through in my early sobriety was the death of my grandmother. She died of cancer and fought a long, ugly, horrid fight to try to survive because she loved us all so much. After she died I was talking about her death and how it related to God with my sponsor. I kept saying WHY? I JUST WANT TO KNOW WHY?!

My sponsor gave me a tool to use visually in my mind. Being an artist, those kinds of things work real well for me. She said to imagine that I have a small pocket like one on the chest of your shirt, only this pocket is deep inside my heart. Inside this pocket is a small spiral flip notepad and pen. Written across the cover in huge, bold, black sharpie marker is the word WHY. Inside this notebook is all the questions about things in my life that cannot be answered on this earth. The answer will have to come from God. 

She said every time something happens that there is no rhyme or reason to, no phathomable way to explain it, to open up my notebook and write it there. Some day when I die and I am standing before my Creator, Higher Power, God or whatever his name turns out to be, then I can pull my notebook out and tell him we need to talk. Believe me, I have many questions. One is why did my grandkids die? Why did He not take me instead? Why was I sexually abused as a child? Why did that one beautiful black kitten I had when I was in my 20s die? I tried so hard to save him. Why did my ex commit suicide? The list goes on and on ad nauseam.

Every time the questions and thoughts start dragging me down I pull my notebook out of my heart and in my mind's eye I read the questions and remind myself that some day I will get an answer when I am at the throne of God. For now, let it go, move on and trust God. Then I say a prayer and get up and do the next right thing in front of me, be it washing the dishes, calling a friend, working on a painting, playing with my grandkids, etc. I just keep doing the next right thing and get out of myself. After awhile I realize the doldrums have not overtaken me and I breathe again.

I suspect some day when I am at God's throne I will no longer need my pocket notebook. All my questions will be answered in the blink of an eye. Till then, I will keep it tucked safely and deeply inside my heart.