Four Little Words

Yesterday I had lunch with one of my best friends and she gave me a birthday card along with a bag filled with gifts that clearly showed how well she knew and loved me.

We have been friends since 2001 when God made sure we were neighbors, a few doors away from each other.

We spent evenings drinking cheap wine on her driveway, watching kids ride bikes and play outside and during those times, we learned to trust and to love each other.

She became my fiercest defender- this tiny little blonde-sometimes redheaded- woman.

When she overheard someone make a remark about my deafness, she would strunt over there, fire in her eyes,guns blazing and give them a piece of her mind.

We once had a man and woman ask to pray for my hearing to be restored. Aletta Joy could barely keep from rolling her eyes and the margaritas that we had been drinking had definitely kicked in as I told them that they could pray all they wanted but I didn’t need my hearing change as much as I needed my heart to change towards people that eavesdrop.

This woman kept my kids during the difficult weeks that my mom was in and out of the hospital. She even made black eyed peas the hard way on New Years eve of 2004, as I stayed at Medical City with my mom and Mema, absolutely overwhelmed and grateful that my kids were having fun despite everything that was happening.

Life bought more changes and more hair colours.

Her dad died. My Mema died. She got divorced twice. I almost did. Our kids got married. She moved several times.

Our times together became rare. We got busy. We got comfortable.

We almost forgot who we were.

It has been way too long since we have sent this text to each other.

“What color? What time?”

Those four little words were all we needed back then when going dancing was a weekly-sometimes twice a week-given.

We would just make sure we weren’t wearing the same color tank top and showed up within minutes of each other at the Southern Junction.

That was who we were.

Free spirited, honky tonk angels rocking the dance floor.

She would lip sync the words to the songs and we would never turn down a man that could spin us around.

As we sit there at On The Border drinking pineapple mojoitas when we should have stuck to margaritas, we caught up on things and we talked about our changing bodies, our kids and our careers and the men that love us and drive us bat shit crazy,too.

There’s a hard truth to be reckoned with.

We aren’t getting any younger and we are at the halfway mark of our life.

Paulo Coelho has a quote that I had claimed for myself many years ago..

I told her that I believe we will regret the things we do not do much more than the things we do and she agreed.

We vowed to take better care of our bodies, pursue our passions, point out stray hairs and tell tale signs of age.

We promised to get together more often because we damn straight didn’t want to stand by a grave with regrets that we hadn’t spent enough time messing around with each other.

We might not be wearing the same tiny tank tops for awhile but I expect to get a text real soon with these words.

“What color? What time?”

And I’ll reply,

“Red. 8. Don’t be late!”

❤💛For my bombshell,Aletta Joy Leaveitblank…WOMAN…I LOVE YOU!

JEANNA’ MEAD

7 16a.m 5-21-19

Www.jeannasoul.com

Country Goddess

So, what does it mean,
to call someone a goddess?

In ages past, when confronted with the most inspiring, the most mysterious, the most desirous… we often gave a name and a form to it…

Aphrodite for beauty,
Minerva for wisdom,
Isis for strength and nurturing…

You, my friend, have all of that, in abundance.

I’m not shy at all to call you a goddess…
A goddess in jeans and boots and a tank top and a little bit of lace.

You’ve sent me to other worlds with your hands and your words.

Oh, how I wish that you would dance with me again!

Happy birthday, country girl!.

❤over ten years ago,this guy and I became friends after sitting next to each other for the Dallas Morning News Voices writers meeting.

I became his “country girl” and he is my “city boy”.

We share stories and poetry and check in on each other and after years of teasing, my city boy finally caved in and bought cowboy boots.

He wears them every Friday to the office and thinks of how his country girl was right when she told him that a pair of good cowboy boots could change his life.

I guess now I’m the “country goddess”

Lord have mercy.

Dangerous

It was a wake up call

A hard truth

Slap in the face

That she knew

No way about it

No amount of covering up

Would change the cold,hard fact

She wasn’t prepared

Couldn’t do what she should

If the time was to come

She’ll be filled with regrets

Left behind

A burden to bear

The weak link

That was so dangerous

Not anything she ever dreamed

Nothing she was proud of

Hard to believe

So she watched it all again

Thought about it

How the universe works out

That she would find it

On the week she was making plans

Bucket list

Promises to herself

For this year of her life

She would be dangerous

Force to be reckoned with

Strong enough

To run to and from

Save her own self

Carry another

She was hellbent

Not to ever be

In the place She is

Much longer

It was too dangerous

In this time and age

To be the one that couldn’t escape

She wanted to be

So dangerous

And free.

❤👣Jeanna’ Mead

7 33 a.m 5-19-19

Many years ago I was in a situation where it was dangerous and I got away. I swore I would always be able to…but the truth-the hard truth-is that I haven’t kept that promise to myself.

This year of my life I’m keeping my promises to myself.

Be dangerous

Three Words

The words made her laugh

In the aisle of the grocery store

She winked at the guy

That caught her eye

and laughed as she said

“Time will tell”

But she knows the truth,

When she’s hot and wet

Tired and spent

At the end of the day

All she wants can be found

In those three little words

Hard.

Cold.

Refreshing.

She takes it home.

Puts it away

Lets time do it’s thing

She can wait

Until the end of the day

Then she’ll hold on

Lean back

Shut her eyes

Wait and see

Just like the words

It’s hard.

It’s cold.

It’s refreshing.

Well worth the wait..

👣❤Jeanna’ Mead

6 19 p m 5-18-19

Www.jeannasoul com

Kissed Like That

Lipstick stains

On the coffee cup

Showed bright red

As can be

She thought about

All the ones that are made

To not leave any stains

No tell tale signs

Nothing to give away

That she had kissed

Like that

Leaving lip prints

Bright red

Hot pink

Where she had been

Kissed like that

👄Jeanna’ Mead

6 13 a.m 5-17-19

Www.rockwallbodyandsoulmassage.com