Category Archives: True Story to me

My New Man, Jason

With everything I have been through in my life, I didn’t think there was such a thing as a good guy. Every guy in my life has hurt me in some way in another. For the first time, I have met someone who treats me like a princess. He tells me everyday that he loves me, that I am perfect for him. I find it hard to beleive. LOL When you spend your whole life being treated like crap by guys, it seems kind of weird to meet a good guy for once.

He is such a great guy. I am moving to Portland and will be with him soon. He is the love of my life. 🙂


My Letter to Santa and My Heavenly Father

Dear Santa and Heavenly Father,

Even though I am an adult, two years ago you gave me my Christmas wish. I am writing you this year to thank you for the special gift of life you gave to my mom. You see, in 2003, my mom was given a terminal diagnosis. For the next 6 years, she would live a painful and hard life on oxygen. Then in 2009, we were given some hope. My mom was just strong enough to be put on the lung transplant list.

Even though I was in prison, I wished that my mom would live long enough to get the double lung transplant that she so badly needed. I knew by making this wish, I was wishing for someone to die. However, I was being very selfish. I knew that I was part of the reason my mom was so sick. See, I wasn’t able to stay away from the drugs. From the stress that I caused her, I am sure it sped up the illness, and made it difficult for her to recover.

Tomorrow, my mom will celebrate her new birthday. On December 6, 2009, my mom was given another chance at life. Even though she had her struggles with the recovery, today she is a wonderful and beautiful person. Not only did you give her another chance, you also gave me another chance.

I love my mom so much. She is such a wonderful mom, and grandma. So this year I want to thank you for my mom. My only wish  this year is that everyone may live their life to the fullest. And thank you to the family of the person who gave my mom her second chance.

With Lots of Love,

Audra D. Maxwell


Forgive and Forget

You and I really have a lot in common. The thing about you and I is we just don’t seem to be able to trust one another. You scare me. It seems that you expect me to take a leap of faith. I tried that once. You hurt me in a way that shattered my heart. You say you want me to forgive you. It seems forgiveness is easy. Forgetting, well that’s just not as easy. I wished I could put my trust back in you. It’s just so hard. How do we get past that?

My Voice

Have you found your voice? I think I have.

I’ve found my voice. For a long time, I didn’t that I had a voice. I used to think to myself, but never voice what I was thinking. I used to let others speak for me or at least they thought they were. Amazingly, those people were so far off. I just never thought of using my own voice.

A lot of time, I just keep what I’m thinking to myself. Nobody want to hear what I think, or so I would tell myself. Once someone said what they thought I wanted to say. Thats when I realized that I’d have to use my own voice. So I spoke outloud. Since I’ve found my voice, I haven’t stopped talking.

The Most Amazing Woman!

There is only one simple thing to say about this piece. I love my mom.

Of all the people I know, my mom is the most amazing person I know. I came way too close to losing her in the past few years. My mom had a double lung transplant on December 7, 2009. Then she had a horrible reaction to a medication. In a space of four months, my mom lost over 37 pounds. The medication had basically shut her body down. She was unable to communicate, and we almost lost her.

Today, my mom is doing great. She is helping others understand lung transplants. I have put my mom through hell with some of the choices I have made. However, she loves me anyways.  This is just one reason she is the most amazing person I know.

Bedtime Routine

Sometimes it seems like our life is so routine. Even bedtime becomes a routine. This is what I do. What about you?

Before I go to bed, I look around me. So many different people, different noises and things to see. The sky is so full of starts. The dark sky begins to swallow me into it. The stars like hundreds of little headlights all around me. I try to separate myself from the darkness. I fight the fatigueness of my eyes. I struggle to keep my eyes open. I don’t want to forget this wonderful, beautiful night. I begin to lose the fight with my eyes as they close. oh well, maybe I will last longer tomorrow night.

Our backpacks

This is me just shooting from the hip, so to say. Yesterday while I was laying down because I am still recovering from the stomach flu, this thought came to me. I hope it make sense.This is completely unedited and just me.

When I started kindergarten, I really didn’t take much to school with me. I didn’t even need a lunch box, because back then, we were given free lunch even if we didn’t sign up for it. The load was light and easy to carry.

However,  I found in about third or fourth grade, my back got heavy.  Then in junior high, wow, was it too much? I asked myself that a lot of time. Between periods, we would throw our homework and books in our lockers and go to the next class. By the end of the day, I had seven different books.

As I graduated from junior high into high school, I still had seven different books, only they were much thicker and bigger. I’m sure I went through two or three different backpacks my high school years.

When I finally finished high school, I thought maybe the backpacks would get lighter. WRONG!!! I didn’t have as many classes, but these were the books of the rest of my life. Some classes had two or three different books. In college, we only got lockers if we rented them. During those years, I felt like my backpack would break me.

Finally, I graduated college. That meant that I wouldn’t have to worry about backpacks anymore. Right? WRONG!!!! Even though I didn’t carry a literal backpack, I still carried life on my shoulders, in an invisible backpack. There were times, I felt that I couldn’t possibly carry anymore. There were times when I didn’t have many things in my invisible backpack.

At times, that invisible backpack did actually break me. It was hard to carry it at those times. Just because I was broke, didn’t mean that life wouldn’t hand me more to carry in my backpack.

There are times I feel like I am carrying the backpack 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It was after I could finally drop that backpack to the ground, that I felt relief.

How many times in life have we felt as if there was so much to carry? How many times have we thought we couldn’t possibly carry another book, burden? Mainly how many times do we wish we could go back to grade school and just have that backpack.