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!!

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