Just Not Today 

(To my son, Trey Biddy)

Holding you for the first time, I knew one day I’d have to let you go – but just not today.

When you took your fist steps, I knew they were the first of many that would one day lead you down your own path – but just not today.

Your first sleepover that I wasn’t called to pick you up in the middle of the night, I knew you would one day find your independence – just not today.

Delivering you to school on your first day in a back pack almost bigger than you and full of anything you would need to survive, I knew one day you would need your friends more than I – just not today.

With every milestone I knew the day was coming, when you would take a journey carved by many tears and smiles from those who love you most, and I would have to watch you go – just not today.

I knew there would come a day that I would face a special kind of storm that I would want to hold you back just one more time, to keep you here under my diligent watch and protection a little longer – and we both know that day is just not today.

Songs I Sing

There are songs I sing still, but so long forgotten, haunting a story that should rest, disturbing my slumber with a touch I can’t seem to remember, yet must remind myself to forget. I stand aside to let it pass, but the melody twists and turns through these valleys, relentlessly searching to bring me back to a place I never really left. — Susan

Hwy 152

I used to drive hwy 152 going home to see family. On my way I would always pass by this old farmhouse just outside of Cordell, Oklahoma. I noticed the house was leaning a little more each time I drove by it. So one day, I decided to stop and capture the place before it was gone forever. I’ve also been told this is where the Chevy commercials a few years back. 
Today the place is gone, and I’m glad I stopped that day to get the picture.

Abandoned


Expressions of sunlight, burning delight, mysteries in moonlight silence the night. Echoed souvenirs line the walls, defining here our treasured moments, as well as hidden fears. It’s one of life’s greatest pleasures and toughest journeys, embracing the hurts and joys, alike, to free our tears. — Susan

(Photo taken of an abandoned building Fort Cobb)