Amy M. Schaefer
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From the Front Porch

I am an "accidental blogger". When I launched my writing career in March of 2014, one of the things that I decided to include was my journaling, which I have always found to be a comforting and therapeutic endeavor.  It was a big risk to open myself up in such a public forum, but it has taught me that, for the most part, we share far more experiences than we think. It's comforting to know I'm not alone!  (*the "Button Text" is the link to my first novel)
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My Baby Wears Combat Boots

5/2/2016

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Baby Zipperhead's NWU's (Navy Work Uniform)
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Baby Zipperhead's "Trash"
...flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. In a few short hours, my youngest child will leave this home for good to make her own way in the world. I left for work this morning with a heavy heart, forcing my feet to move at the normal rhythm of a Monday morning routine, but I didn't want to do it. Sunday, when Mother's Day arrives, her absence will be potently felt. I know she's as ready as anyone is at this time in life where we all venture out of the "nest" to create an adult life, but that doesn't make it any easier to let her go. Goodbyes have never been my strong suit anyway. Time passes in strange ways, speeding up with you want it to slow down, and dragging endlessly when you wish it would just hurry the hell up and "get here".

I am restless, when I should be studying, unable to focus on any one thing. I shuffle papers, stop to clean something random, or sit on the deck and stare up at skies that hang quietly overhead, unconcerned with mortal things. My baby wears combat boots, like her father before her, and her grandfather before him, and I'm so proud of her I don't know how my heart can even hold it all. And yet, our country is an embarrassment, with a political shit-storm front and center on a global stage, while the bits and pieces of government beneath that are as shady as the carpetbaggers of old. I think to myself, "What is she, and others like her, going to defend? So many spit daily on the Constitution and its vision, while many others would die to defend a way of life that I believe to be the heartbeat of this Nation."

I am one random woman in a sea of nearly seven billion people on this planet, sending one random child off to serve her country. In the grand scheme of things, neither she, nor I am particularly "unique". But she is...flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. Without me (and her father, and a Creator who placed her soul inside that body she occupies), she would not exist. Without her, I wouldn't want to exist. And when she goes, she takes a piece of me with her.
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    About The Author

    I grew up in rural North Carolina. When I was only nineteen, I moved away and became a military wife. My only aspiration at that tender time in my life was to create an adult life that "fixed" all of the "injustices" of my childhood. Secretly, however, I wanted to reach for the sky! I wanted to be a writer and find ways to "save the world" (my mother used to say, "You have Save the World Syndrome".). Mostly, I wanted to matter.

    Since then, I have learned to reach well beyond what I ever dared to think was possible. I've learned not to allow fear to stop me from whatever future I want to create!

    What keeps me grounded? My Tribe! What provides the wind beneath my wings? A well of reserves filled with unstoppable passion!

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  • Amy M. Schaefer, Writer
  • Blog: From the Front Porch
  • Novels
  • Short Stories
    • Children's Books
  • About the Author
  • Contact
  • Photo & Art Gallery