A repeat of seasons

This is a repeat of a blog post from about six months. We all go through changes and must remain thankful for the seasons. Enjoy!

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Season: a time characterized by a particular circumstance or feature. This was the most fitting definition for today’s post so thank you Merriam-Webster.

We all have our favorite seasons – winter, spring, summer, or fall. But what about the seasons of life? What happens when it’s not your “season,” and self encouragement dwindles?

Speaking candidly, my current season is not at it’s best. We’ll say I’m in winter but I’d prefer summer. And last week I hit a pivotal moment.

Since having my baby girl in February, I have been a domestic engineer over the last nine months. That means no job that I clock into, but still “working” this thing called life. As I have mentioned before, we have three kids and own two businesses. I’ll let you fill in the blanks.

Quite honestly, it has been tough. This past week I started to feel like I wasn’t making any good strides professionally – as I reenter the workforce- and low self-esteem and lack of self encouragement was turning into self pity and shame.

Then I started to pick on myself. But one of my girls told me quickly “You have tell that (self pity and shame) heffa she gotta go. Kick her right out the door. She ain’t welcome here.”

So I did. I kicked her out the door and welcomed my new friend “you got this.” She’s cute and much nicer.

In most cases, challenging circumstances or seasons don’t last. They tend to pass and make us stronger and wiser anyway.

Now . . . fast forward a week later and my best foot is right in front of me. I have also relearned the importance keeping your head up through the tough times; we’re our biggest cheerleaders and supporters. And more importantly, there’s beauty in every season:

Winter is cold, but the first dust of snow is quite delightful.

Spring brings showers, but our days are lighter and brighter.

Summer is hot, but a sunset is always breathtaking and amazing.

Fall brings leaves galore, but the colors are bountiful and beautiful.

Be thankful for the seasons.

Because the sun always comes out after the rain . . .

Sun Taylor

Our First . . . MLRO

Beauty. Style. Grace. Michelle Obama. Need I say more.

She was the first and will probably be the last of what the First Lady should truly encompass as the woman who stands not behind, nor in front, but beside a great man. Never perturbed by what others thought she “should” look or act like, and for that matter, what her kids should act like, she belonged to herself, being herself.

And that’s exactly what made this nation so proud to call her FLOTUS. From her candor as, first and foremost, “mom-in-chief” to being married to our president, who ain’t bad either,  we fell in love with her – quickly and deeply.

She was like our aunt, sister, or friend stepping out on stage in 2008 and 2012; an instant connection because of her humility – and she was headed to the White House. The same house, built by slaves, which she unequivocally brought to our attention during her speech at the DNC, speaking her truth. Yes ma’am this was our First Lady, my First Lady.

There were so many firsts but the first that will forever go down in history; she was our first black First Lady. Just stop right there and take it in. FIRST.

In my excitement as we came to know her, I wrote an ode about Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama when her husband was the Democratic presidential candidate. I rummaged through my 44th presidential paraphernalia this week and found it. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!

While I would never bore you with the entire poem, here are a couple stanzas (I know a little something about poetry) that speak to how proud I am to have called her the First Lady.

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You, a black woman, strong, courageous, elegant, determined
led the way like so many other black women – Harriet, Ida, and Madame C.J.

You, a black woman, like me, married an educated and dedicated man
who values family & fellowship and are true to their word as men

You, a black woman, with two beautiful black children, whom you hold
near and dear to your heart and cherish with your touch, defines the meaning of family

You a black woman, gave your husband a front-fist pound (on national TV )
which spoke pride to all black men, women, and children

You, a black woman, wore a White House Black Market dress
and will soon occupy the White House, the most prominent address in our nation

You, a black woman, often imitated, but never duplicated
will be the First Lady of this country

You, Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama
I thank you for being a black woman

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I can’t begin to tell you how much she has influenced me and so many other women I imagine. It’s tough seeing her leave the White House, that great man we called our president, and those two girls who have become women before our very own eyes. And let’s not forget momma Robinson who came along too :o).

We all should be thankful we experienced this in our lifetime. As Dr. Seuss says
“Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.”

Because the sun always comes out after the rain. . .

Sun Taylor