I went to a donor reception for JHW Foundation and heard from three success stories. I am sorry I didn’t get the young ladies on video. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as they told their stories about how JHW Foundation
The first time we did this, I thought it was #iamnotashamed but it’s #imnotashamed. I’m and not I am.
I am sending this to TeamNotAshamed today so it was only fitting to make it today’s #griefheart. Rachel Griffen, a singer songwriter,
These were Charles’ favorite shoes. Nanny gave them to him. These were the last shoes he was wearing when he died by suicide. So ironic that he’d be wearing “Man of Steel” shoes.
What is the #griefheart project?
I explain my #griefheart project here.
Everyone tells you that tough love is the way to go with those with substance abuse disorder (aka addiction). What no one tells you is when to help your addict.
No one defines “rock bottom” or when it might be time to actually help your addict.
Everyone’s bottom is different.
For whatever reason I’m wondering about clouds and heavens today. Thinking about Charles running around on them. So thinking about heaven as an 8-year-old might. I think the image is inspired by the Run Free song Charles wrote where he talks about leaving earth.
I wonder if that’s
(aka Reezin the Revolutionary)
Granbobby used to make my card disappear,
and pull a quarter out of my ear,
Momma how’d I end up here?
Life was so different,
I was so innocent,
Who knew I’d ever act like a criminal,
My love for you is far from minimal
“I found my place amongst these beats
And my passion with these stanzas.”
–Charles Aubrey Rogers, 1995-2015
This one is inspired by two songs I thought were lost forever. Charles loved his rap music. He was rarely spotted without those earphones around his neck or earbuds in his
For months, I have mourned not having this song, “Family Matters.” Charles wanted to record that rap song and publish it to iTunes through Imperial Alliance Media, but he died before that happened. I believe he wrote this one about
Sometimes I just can’t believe I’m the one that lost a child. That was something that happened to other people. Not me. And not only did my child die, he died by suicide.
I could argue that I know my purpose now
But this “purpose” has such a high price tag.
Some days I feel like I am barely able to scrape myself together. I wake up and just can’t believe I am in this