memories

Nineteen Years Ago The Second Half of Eighteen Years Ago

The pain I experienced was nothing I prepared for back then. I was single through high-school and after, someone came a long and changed my life. My lonely nights, to late night calls, beside my parents, hugs. He hugged me as if he were holding onto his own life, he asked me how I was. And questioned my past. We talked about his past, and at the time I just was not catching on

My friend, Cher, came and picked me up one day. She said she was “taking me up to the big city to find him”. We went to his sister apartment. She got into our car and showed us where you were staying. The place didn’t have all the windows, the skirting was unraveling like yarn, the yard had no grass, and there was blue-tarp over the roof. I can’t believe at the time, my eyes were sewn shut but they were. You took ten-minutes to come out and greet me. You looked whiter than normal, thinner than remembered, The black circles you had around your eyes are still embedded in my mind. You grabbed both of my hands and whispered to me “what are you doing here” I had to see you, and thought I deserved to know where you were… “Go back home.” I promise, I will call you tomorrow at twelve” I never got the call. But our phone did ring, my parents had them all locked up in their bedroom because I had been making long distance calls.

Eight months later I moved to the big city because I crashed my car. I moved in with my best friend. My friend Cher came up to visit me. She knew where you still stood with me. She said “let’s go over to his sisters” we did and you were there. I walked over and sat on the coach beside you. You were thinner than last time, you still had those black circles under your eyes, You would not look on either side, just straight ahead and you never said one word. We wrapped up talking to your sister, and on my way out, I turned around and asked if I could have a pen. I wrote down my phone number on the paper with a note. I walked over to you and tucked the piece of paper in your sweaty palm, you opened it right up, shook your head and smiled. I heard from you on and off after our visit. I chased after you, a few more times, and told myself, I was finished. However, a few months after I decided to throw in the towel. You showed up at my job, where I waitresed, you said nothing to me, as you waited for your pizza. I said nothing to you as well, not because I didn’t want too, but because I was mad. I got a phone call that night from you, you said you wanted a chance and that you would call me after you got off work.

The other night at the grocery store, seeing you, took me right back, to those moments in my life. The  feelings I had did not follow the now. I told my mom how upset I was that they were not there and wished it wouldn’t have happened. She said “you got what you have been looking for, closure and closure is what you needed’

My friend Chris over the last six years has told me “give it up woman” she don’t understand why I hold on. She says “he’s the one who got away” I will ask her, do you think he did care?  and she will say “no” he would be here if he did.” Another friend of mine, three said to me a couple of weeks ago it’s “your story, you’re a writer, why don’t you come up with your own ending?”

Dearlilyjune: Once wrote a memory of “Eddie” a guy she dated in her past. Even though, the story is different. These words stood out to me in neon flashing lights. I had an A-ha moment.”I stopped talking to him altogether. And it was the cruelest and kindest thing I could think of. And he, whether he felt it at the time or not, was lucky to be free of me”.

We didn’t say too much to one another besides the same old hi how are you, I may, may, I tell you been a little nervous, and picked up a Lipton tea package, turned it over acting like I was reading the package/ingredients because I was nervous. And said “Oh hell, it’s just Lipton”. You walked away to go stock another shelf. I could tell this wasn’t  a moment you wanted to be in. I trailed behind you hoping, before the end of the aisle you would give me some sort of an apology and it did not come.

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And this quote from -Leo Christopher landed in my lap a week ago today and clarity comes to my mind. I believe we get answer to our questions through other’s. The process might be slow but if we’re  truly after peace, peace takes foot-work but it’s all right here in whats been wrote from other’s and their feelings.

I took the day off today, our step-children are visiting us from Texas. We got stuff moved from the garage to the basement, three of us went out to eat and my step-daughter and I went for a walk in Forest park. We took pictures, talked, we broke through to each-other. We came home and my husband filled up the pool, and the kids done some late night swimming. I’m sitting here about to wrap this whole thing up but first before I go.

My dearest first love,

Thank you for walking away from me, thank you for knowing, you weren’t for me, thank you for giving me a life I deserve.

 

 

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Toilet Stall Wisdom

Raphi, thanks for sharing such great graffiti, your blog always reminds me of the good in the world!

raphaela99's avatarRAPHAELA ANGELOU

These were discovered in a toilet stall at a young people’s theatre. The writings really spoke to me, and I had to photograph them. I wonder where these kids are now; whether they are still performing? I hope that they all have grand lives and I thank them for their ponderings.

‘Acting isn’t about putting masks on-But taking them off.’ Indeed, young sage.

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memories

Eighteen Years Ago

You called me, and asked me to give you another chance. You said, you would call me when you got off work. Nine, ten, eleven twelve, and one came and went. I turned out all the lights in my apartment. I walked down the quiet, dark, hallway. I laid across my four-post bed. The black night, was a spotlight, on the white, cordless phone. I dialed up the story line, and played it over and over, hoping for the beep, letting me know, I had another call. And I would click over to my happiness. I don’t know, how long, I held on to the phone that night. I do know, how long, I have hung on to you.

I ran into you, a week ago today, since you left me hanging that night. Clearly, seeing you took me back like it was last night and here is MY story.

I was fresh out of high-school, a late bloomer to the core. It was the second time I kissed a boy, and the first time my body moved in ways I wasn’t quite familiar with. You wanted to take it a bit further, but I wasn’t ready. We were up all night long.We repeated the same scene the next night. In the morning I went home. You came by my house to tell me you were going back to the town. Witch was thirty-miles away. No, it was not far. But for a girl who only had her license for a few weeks, and her first car. I had never left town on my own. And, you had no car.

I lived with my parents, and worked at Subway. You called, around ten every night. I can’t for the life of me remember what we talked about. However, it was brief. My best friend  took me up to see you one Friday. When we got there you came running out. You had  black, shiny, straight hair. Your bangs brushed your eyelashes, your white pasty skin was a beautiful backdrop for your sky blue eyes and you kept  them open when you wrapped your arms around me, pressing your forehead against mine and whispering how you missed me.

We crammed into my friends Taurus and drove around the big city for a while. I cannot remember where we went, but I was on your lap the whole way. We played R. Kelley the whole time, you sang certain lyrics in my ear. The contact-high I was getting inside that car, made me feel like our lives together were the only ones on earth. I felt nothing, saw nothing, wanted to do nothing, except you.We got back to where you were staying, and my friend told me we had to leave. We went into the laundry-room and said our goodbyes. I can still see your smile, the way you stared right at me with your eyes, the way you ran your hand up in down my cheek and told me how nice it was to see me, you couldn’t wait to see me again.

I got home that night, and we talked briefly on the phone. I worked the rest of the week and you called every-night. We disgust me coming up on my own for the week-end. I was scared shitless, it was gutsy move, and my parents knew nothing about my planned get-a-way. You gave me directions. They must have been easy, because I made the drive. Until I got to your town and missed my turn. You seen me miss my turn and hopped in the car with your grandma. I looked up in my rearview, and you were running after me, waving, and chasing me down, like I was about to go off a cliff. I stopped my car, in the middle of the road and you told me to “scoot over I will drive”. We barely came up for air the whole time I was there. However, the conversation, you did bring up, was your time limit at your cousin’s house. You both had been staying with your cousins dad. He had given you BOTH a time-limit to get a job. If you could not find a job. You had to find somewhere else to live. We did go over a few places you could put your application in. I named a few fast-food places I seen on the way up to your house, you told me you had filled them out for those places I mentioned. When I got ready to leave my car wouldn’t start. We had to call my dad. When I told him where I was. He said  “find a way to get your ass home”. We looked at each-other and both decided I would stay one more night. The next day you got the car running and I went home.

The next night at work I never got your call. I did not think nothing of it, until the next night you didn’t call. After that, my chest felt like it was cut open, placed on the outside of my body, with someone tightly squeezing. The next few weeks went by, was like watching a movie in slow-motion. The reason, I did not call you at the time, is because it was long-distance. I was able, on my next day off to go over to a family members house of yours. They lived in the same town. We tried to call and only got a machine. She ended up getting a hold of me after a few days. She let me know you were staying with your sister. When I was able to get to a pay-phone you wasn’t there either.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpkS2DU_qMs

“Like sands through an hour-glass, these are the days of our lives”

To Be Continued

 

 

 

 

 

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The Oldsmobile

shelie27's avatarLife In My Tin Can

Childhood

Being  lean in age and money my dad bought a car to get him from “Point A to Point B”

The olds did just this for my dad

Today it holds a bittersweet memory

The car was a lighter brown and long like the long hours my dad worked to support his family on his own

There were four doors only three worked

The driver side door would not open a reminder of being the family of three we were

The driver side mirror was shattered spider webbed out where you could see my dads broken reflection

Symbolic to all the years he drove around single with a broken heart

The passage side door we all climbed in

Was heavy like the love that my brother and I carry for our hero of a dad

The brownish red interior of the car hung low

like the low times we…

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Family · friendship

Laughing To The Grave Part 2

Writing on my blog has not been easy lately. I’m not going to lie. I look around at some of your post, and think my God, where can I get a blog like them… It’s not the size, I envy. It’s your writing style, your format, your flow, pictures, fonts, and the time that looks like you put into your blog. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t sit at the table with my elbow on it, leaning against my hand, for hours. It just makes me more aware of what and how I write. My cohort told me the other night.

“When it comes down to it, what matters is that people understand what you’re trying to say”

A few things have been keeping my family down in the dumps, my husband and I mainly. I won’t go into it too much, because you heard it all before. I would rather make us both laugh, how bout it?

A few weeks ago, Emmet was under the weather, and just not acting normal. My supervisor asked me to take her into the Emergency Room. They were getting her checked in, asking her questions about who, what, when, where, and why.

“Where is it, that you live?”

Emmet: The Jerry Kline Home For The Blind

“What Did you say”

Emmet: She then, slowly, broke-down all the words, and repeated herself

“Ok”

Emmet: busted out singing the nursery rhyme “Three Blind mice”

The same night, my husband and I were getting ready to go to bed. He had stepped out of our room for just a few minutes. I had a pill to take in my hand and of course dropped it. I was in-between the bed and the wall, on all fours, running my hand across the floor, trying to find that tiny thing.My husband walked backed in the room while I was on the hunt. He yells my name like he lost me in a crowd at a carnival. He scared the crap out of me. I pop up and say “What the hell, is going on”

Him: I did not see you, I thought the rapture had taken place and the lord took you instead of me…

My son and I got out-of-town, a few weeks ago. We went to a graduation. It was down by my home-town. On our way back home, we stopped in to see an old friend. Gabe asked them if we could use their bathroom. I went with him, because I had to go as well. He tripped over a toy and put his hand through a hole, which you could tell had been there already. He looks up at me, motions me to come in closer, when I get face to face with him, he looks around and back again at me.

Mom: I think their house is ripping apart!

I know you’re aware we follow Jesus, since my son was born I have let him know he can talk to him anytime. It does not matter where you’re, what you’re doing, it’s as simple as talking to me. The other day he found a spider in our house. He was squatted down, following it around. He motioned me to come look at it and I did. I grabbed a shoe and smashed it!

Gabe: JESUS, LOOK OUT!

Daily Post

Felix

Felix Silla, lived in room #106. He was short, hairy, bald, with light brown hair on the sides of his head, and on the back of his head too. His right leg wouldn’t bend when he walked, and his left leg dragged. He would always wear shorts that grazed his knees and a tee-shirt that hugged his firm body. The tee-shirts he wore never came down past his waist line. He would smile every-time you say something to him, even the simplest hello. When someone would make a joke or say something funny, he would put his right hand over his open mouth, the palm of his hand facing out and throw his head back.

It’s been a long time, Felix. I still feel joy, when you come to my mind.

On Saturday mornings, I used to put out mail. In the residents mail boxes. Once it was passed out. I made an announcement over the intercom. Felix was always the first one down and others soon followed. He would grab his talking-books he ordered or if  he had an envelope he would shuffle to the desk where I sat, and ask me who it was from. And then quietly go back to his room. I don’t know why Felix stood out to me at mail time. It might have been the way he struggled a bit to get down to the mail box so fast to see if there was something waiting for him.

When we went to supper all the residents and him would joke around. They would call him Alpo: One time, he went shopping, and grabbed a can on accident.(This happens a lot because my residents are blind.) There was no shame in Felix game he announced it to everyone one night during supper, and that was always the going joke.

When he would come to the medicine desk at eight-o-clock. He would carry a red, white, and black transistor-radio. He would sit it up on my counter, turn it down, and say”You getting tired yet Shelley” I would tell him. Yes I was, until you showed up! he would turn red, put the back of his hand over his open mouth and throw his head back laughing. He took his medicine and headed straight back to his room.

When I noticed Felix being a bit more quiet and not AS prompt. I would make a pit stop by his room, after all my meds were passed. He would be laying there toward the wall, curled up, with that red, white, and black transistor-radio, tucked inside the circle of his arm listening to music. I’d ask him if he was okay or if there was anything I could do? He’d tell me his neck hurt. I asked him if I could rub it for him. And he said “yes Shelley”

I feel pensive whenever Felix comes to my mind. He comes often. He was one of the first resident who showed me the meaning of humble, not the definition. The way he lived his life. Simple, sweet, funny, and quiet.

The night he passed he was holding on to that red, white, and black transistor-radio

 

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I can’t let it go, Felix.

 

 

 

 

Children · Family

Hanging On To My family By A Thread

This morning hasn’t started off good. I had made an appointment, a  month ago, for today. I thought it was for ten-o-clock but it was for nine-o-clock, which is weird, Gabe starts school around then. This was the second time, they have re-scheduled me. The receptionist called me at nine, asking if I was there?  I said no, I thought it was at ten? She shuffled through her papers while continuing to say hmm, “no, my Calendar says nine” (swallowing crow) I said: it’s my fault and I’m nowhere near the office, I’m sorry. I talked to my mom a bit about the situation. She told me to start writing things down, and how there is an app, that will remind you, of the appointments you have.

It’s all well in good, but writing things down is a downfall of mine. I hung up the phone and checked the weather. I noticed one of the anchor ladies, on the news site. Stacey Skrysak. My mother had posted this post of her’s, on my fb page, a while back ago. It has been my favorite piece of writing ever since.

My eye’s filled up this morning with tears as I read her post this morning. I thought about having to wait another month to get Ativan for my panic-attacks. They come on like a deer jumping out in front of your  car. I do have some daily medication, it don’t always cut it. It helps but not fully.

They started over a year ago.

One night, around three, I woke up to what felt like a water hose of adrenaline filling up my body. I shot STRAIGHT UP into a sitting position and gasped for air, slid out of bed, and into the bathroom. Where I noticed my melons shaking back and forth with every beat of my heart. I thought about taking a Xanax that belonged to my husband. I stared at them thinking about the knowledge I knew. With being a nurses aid. My heart was going to need medical assistance and the hospital would not like to hear that I took medication that was not mine.

I woke up my husband and told him he would have to stay with our son. I called the ambulance to take me to the emergency room. He hated doing such, but all in all this is why we have each other. I told him to take him to school in the morning and he could meet me afterwards.

When the ambulance picked me up. I walked out and climbed into the back and laid on the stretcher. The guy started to put in a Iv. He told me if  my heart rate did not slow down he was going to be ordered to give me a medicine, that basically stops the heart for a second. He did not want to have to use it on the ambulance but would if he had too. He asked me some questions about my life. I was able to get comfortable with him. I asked if he had seen this happen with a lot patients? “all the time” we got to the hospital and they had a room waiting for me and started asking me questions.

Had I taken illegal drugs?

Did I take anything at all?

I told them a Sudafed, actually two within that day.

If you took anything illegal, you can tell us, we won’t turn you in?

No, I did not take any drugs!

The doctor came in and ordered medicine that would drip slow. He thought it may help bring down my heart-rate and if he could bring it down. He could see more about what was going on.

I laid there in that one moment, thinking this could be the beginning to the end of my life.

Who knows, what they would tell me?

I’ve had a heart problem before.

Where there is one rat there are a hundred more you don’t see.

What about my husband, my son, my dad, my mom, how will they get through it?

I’ve been in the shallow part of water when it comes to loosing a child

After placing my feet on dry land, I changed.

In one blink of one eye

I lost a family of four. I lost a piece of my husband, my sons Will and Gabe, I lost half of myself, and any thought that life, would last into our thirties, forties, fifties, sixties, seventies, and so on. I lost being grateful, for my family, when hearing of another families misfortune. Because just as you thank God it wasn’t your son or your daughter. You’re  thinking to soon. I’m thankful every second, every minute, of every hour for the life with my family.

The fear I have, isn’t the dying part. It’s the loss, the grief, one would have to feel. It’s the hollowness in a room filled with furniture, clothes, and toys. The silence when all you want to hear is crying. The passerby’s you don’t know but wish you did, so they would stop for a second, while you try to wrap your head around what had happened. It’s the guilt and the choices you made before the boom. It’s the guilt that your gone and I’m here. It’s the triggers, like missing an appointment to the psychiatrist.

The other day I was reading another writers post on loss. Her words as a survivor touched my heart.  “I have to keep living and loving because they can’t. And it breaks my heart. And it mends it too”

 

 

 

Family · Home

To My Readers


First off, thank you for sticking with me, especially since I haven’t read a lot of your post lately.

Things are calming down, since our move. Yes, we moved! We found a three bedroom brick house.

We both agreed on it and went for it!

In the process, I got sick. Ear infection, bronchitis, and sinus. I was seen, three times in the last two months. My cough is still hanging on. I won’t lie. I just did not feel like reading or blogging. And our internet is still not hooked up.

I enjoy blogging on the computer, when I do blog. For now. My blog post will be short and sweet. There will be more reading, and less typing until we get back on the grid.

Hill Side Property
Hill Side Property

I’ve  not had time to doll up the house, yet. When I do, I will take you on a virtual tour!

 

Children

Life With An Earthling And Two Angels In Heaven

The day you were born, I didn’t hold you right away. The doctor showed you to me and then had to stitch me up. They pushed my bed through the lobby. Where your grandpa, uncles, aunts, and friends would greet us with smiles, and tears. They said how beautiful you were, and how much you looked like me.The nurse got me settled in my room and told me it would be an hour before they let friends and family in. They wanted the anatesia to wear off and monitor my stats. The nurse asked if I wanted to see you, I shook my head yes.

When she put you in my arms. I didn’t count your fingers and toes. I ran my hand over your face, arms and legs. I was in awe of the thickness of your skin. I not only, seen your hair, I lifted you up to my face, rubbing it up and down against my cheek. I rubbed my finger up and down your  perfectly in tact nose. The nurse was giving me pain meds, taking my vitals, checking my incision, and you were screaming your head off. I lied there, with you in my arms screaming. I wasn’t hearing a thing. The nurse must have had enough, because she came up to the head of my bed, put her arm around me, smiled and said, “I think he may be hungry”. We untied my gown to see if you would latch onto me but you wanted nothing to do with breastfeeding. They asked me if it was okay to give you a bottle, because your blood sugar tested low. In which I agreed.

Family and friends came in and took over. Holding you, feeding you, changing you, and enjoying a new baby like they should. I must have fell asleep during visiting hours, because when I woke up. The room was empty, except daddy he was asleep. I pushed the call bell to ask them to bring you down and they did. I tried waking your dad up but he was dead to the world. I grabbed you out of your warmer to  hold and enjoy you in my arms. I thought for a minute, the lining around your lips was turning blue but chucked it up to nerves, then it happened again. I called the nurse, I  yelled he’s “turning blue” they raced in, grabbed you, held you up to the light, turned you from side to side, shaking her head saying “I don’t see anything”. She handed you back and I was scared frozen. She left the room. I held you like I was balancing a spoon on my nose. I looked down at you, without moving my head,  your lips turned blue again. I yelled and they came running. They held you up to the light, and said “were gonna take him down to the nursery, we can keep an eye on him”. She didn’t tell me she agreed.  I asked, her what she seen?  She said “we will keep an eye on him”. The old, no jumping to conclusions move. I know this move all to well, and it’s not a good place to be standing.

That night, they came in, and told me and your dad that your oxygen level was dipping down into the forties. They had to keep you in the neonatal unit, to observe you. They kept oxygen, by your bed, in case they had to use it. They said once it lowered it would rise back up instantly and because of it rising up, you didn’t have to wear the oxygen full-time. This is also called destating, it happens to premature babies, although you weighed eight pounds and six ounces, you were big, but little. They delivered you at thirty-six weeks, there is forty in gestation.

I shut down, when they gave me this news. It was another punch in the upper left side of my chest.There was no reason, for no hope, but to a grieving mother it’s all or nothing. I have sat on pins and needles ever since that day. I have beat myself up over these last years, realizing you were behind and blaming myself for holding you to close. Checking on you through the night, making sure, I seen the rise and fall, keeping you from others without being there, in case someone decided to run off with you, driving by the school playground just so I can see that your alive and well. I realized as I sat in the doctor’s office with you earlier today and pondered on all these thoughts as I watched you jumping, skipping, and rolling around on the floor.

That you are my sunshine

My only sunshine, son, you

make me happy when

skies are gray

only God knows how much

I love you and I know he can

take you any day.

I hand his life over to you, because, even here on earth, with me. He is still yours, and he needs you just as much as I do.

I sat at my twin boys grave, that day in August. I closed my eyes, visioning,  Jesus, holding both of my baby boys in each of his arms, swaddled perfectly, in white. In that field of green, and the bluest of skies with peace that surpasses all understanding.