My family and I headed down to Texas to see our children (my step children.) The trip went well for a few days considering we not only visit the children but the ex-wife too. I would enjoy explaining the details but when it comes down to it, it would not be right of me. I will tell you. Gabe always enjoys taking the trip and even though at times its uncomfortable for me. I just know (well I hope) Gabe will have something to talk with his siblings about one day.
We try to show them a good time. This time they went swimming, we all went to a 3D movie, out to eat and had two BBQ’s where they played in the yard, sand, pool and trampoline, in hundred degree weather with kids from the neighbor hood. Gabe and all the other kids were dirty from head to toe and bushed by bed time which was fine with us. We were bushed as well.
This was the first time since his divorce he was able to take his daughter back home with us for one week. This was a milestone in my husband’s life. I’m proud of him, happy for my son, but feel a bit sketchy about the relationship between her and I, which I suppose is normal.
If you need an explanation we just didn’t talk much and when asking her a few questions she spoke quietly and brief. We did have one moment where we sang a few songs on smule together (which is a cool Karaoke App.) She also made me chuckle hard when her dad asked her this.
Steven: Izzy
Izz: Yes Daddy
Steven: Do you want to visit Lincoln Tomb while you’re here
Izz: No, sorry dad I don’t do good at old mens grave sites….
“Jack and another resident. Saying goodbye as she moved to another home.
Hello Good People,
First of all this blog will not be as short as I would like or you would like? There is no way around it. One day I would like to be a brevity writer…
This last year at my job we have lost lots of residents. Some have moved and some have passed away, either way it’s been tearful. One particular resident who recently passed had been at the home for as long as I can remember. (I have been there fourteen years almost.)
We called him “Jack” because he favored “Jack Nicholson” right up to his brows and wrinkles on his forehead. “Jack” stayed cranky most of the time and was plucked out by a few of the residents for target practice. One lady resident he particularly couldn’t stand. When “Jack” would yell out like he did in the dining-room. (most mornings) she would be the first to tell him to “shut up no one wants to hear your mouth.” One morning as she walked past his table after yelling at him she said “toodles Jack” he sat back in his chair slowly and nicely told her “have a rotten day.”
This was what I loved about “jack” he pulled no stops when it came to how he felt about people and when SOME of our residents would make snide remarks to him. He never backed down. He had a rival lets call him “Charlie Chaplin” for his protection and also there mustaches are similar. When “Chaplin” was able. He would go around the tables in the dining-room collecting the “clothing protectors” he was gathering up the “protectors” from a table which put “Chaplin” directly behind “Jack” (remember my residents are blind…) “Jack” wings his “protector” backwards and it landed perfectly over “Chaplin’s” head and being the nurse on duty I yelled “jack” why did you do that? “Jack” says “Shelley I’m in the ball throw for special olympics and I was practicing!! He wasn’t trying to be funny either it came out that way because even though he was an adult he was childlike grown up but not… If you catch my drift?
“Jack’ walked on a walker most of the time. The last few years he became short of breath and walked with a limp and grimaced as he did so. He didn’t once complain or tell us he was having trouble with these things. WE noticed he was struggling. When we confronted him, his response was “What The Hell Are You Talking About” (God I miss that man) we got him seen and he was ordered a wheelchair that we never once pushed until the man was near death.
“Jack” was a Cubs fan and also had a hard time hearing. I’m not a huge baseball fan but was born and raised around the cubs my entire life. My dad is a die-hard, my husband is too and most of the residents at the home are. You could always hear the ball game from “jacks” room because he blared it up so high. When they would win he would yell Cubs WIn Cubs Win! automatically I’d think to myself WOO HOO WOO HOO because I knew my father and husband were happy as well. I long for the day the Cubby’s when the series’ and hope my dad lives to see it. It is on my bucket list and I hope to be sitting right next him.
A week before “Jack” passed away “Make a wish Foundation” notified our home. They asked if there was anything they could do before “Jack” died? “Jack didn’t know he was passing untill his last night here on earth. So our boss told them he was a Cubs fan and that if the announcer could just mention his dedication to the Cubs and where he was from, we thought that would be enough. Sure enough the night I was on duty taking care of him. He was all geared up in his Cubs wear telling me all about what they’d said on the radio. The whole night he repeated the broadcast over and over again.
I got to spend a night with “Jack” right before his transition and he fought a good fight right up to the end. Even though he couldn’t talk anymore. Whenever I told him I was getting ready to give his meds or wipe his mouth, his eyebrow would raise up and he would do his best to help me. It was slight but I noticed it. I walked away that morning knowing I wouldn’t see him when I clocked back in and things have been different ever since then.
If you follow me the other day I put a picture up. One of my residents and I coming back from the doctor. My residents have taken me places that I only hope that you can get a hint of in my writing. When time allows there will be more. It has been here where my soul has grown and I can’t help but watch the wondering ways people drive by or hear about the people in our home and not stop to get a little piece of heaven.
Do y’all ever want to just blast a few bad Apples out on Social Media?
I wish I could post a big huge rant, about a few things going on in my life. It wouldn’t be classy and it wouldn’t be nice. If you’re the kind of person I am you can read = the l-i-n-e-s. If not I don’t know what to tell you.
Happiness is overrated, if you want to know my feelings on the subject. Even if you don’t I’m still telling you! You don’t and won’t wake up everyday happy. Its something you have to work on from time to time.
For example: When my husband and I lost our twins he was going one way with grief and I another. I held it in and took a lot of things most people said offensively. (Why were on the subject: When a mother looses her babies skip all the I’m sorry, they’re in a better place, you can have more, it was for the best, you will see them again. The best thing would be to ask her if there is anything you can do to ease her pain? and whatever she tells you try to grant it for her.) My husband who has PTSD disassociated to the point he wasn’t for sure we should be together and dabbled in some unspeakable computer activity. We spent a few months not even talking we barely made it through to be quite honest. Most people believed it was the end. The best thing we did was keep going. We would have brief discussions and it helped to make it through another day but I’m here to tell you it was the hardest time of our whole life.
To be quite honest it’s has taken me a long time to be where I’m at today with myself. It took giving birth to my twin boys who passed away from being premature: The aftermath was arbitrary to having a zip lock bag over my head. It hurt to breathe and it was the first and hopefully last time I didn’t want too. I felt angry, worthless, helpless and pieces of my past started to surface,making me believe at one point I didn’t deserve the gift of twins. I know now this isn’t true but then I didn’t because I had not dealt with issues from my past. It took some time but I started seeing a therapist afterwards who basically opened my heart she gave me permission to grieve the way I never was allowed or allowed myself to do so. She brought my husband in and helped us disagree on a healthier level. During our times of talk led me back to my faith which led to a weekend encounter with my church for more healing. Then I took an English class where a teacher, perhaps the only teacher in my whole life encouraged me to keep writing. “She said you have a lot to say and she’d enjoyed reading about my life.” Here I’m thirty-eight years old and still trying to stay on track and remember who I’m.
To whom it concerns,
This has not been a walk in the park for me. I’m now learning how to put up boundaries not only to protect my happiness but my family’s as well. I’m however sorry you cannot find yours. I can’t look back to roll up my sleeves to try to make you or anyone else happy. Yes we can be kind, but we can’t do your foot work. I refuse to take your problems on and sacrifice how far I have come.
This road I’m on has been easier. I can’t explain it… Most days I feel lighter not so heavy. I know we’re still going to have hard times. Times that we won’t be happy. I feel like a part of happiness is knowing that the sadness will come and together we will get through it again.
A fellow blogger of mine wrote a post sometime ago about “The Green Eyed Monster” asking what wakes “the monster for you?”
Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re Jealous of!
I may raise my eyebrow here and there when I hear people my age have degrees. I have always wanted to go to college and “make” something of myself. School didn’t come easy to me at all. They’re lots of people in the world who are successful and it didn’t come easy. When looking back, I could have made better choices. When taking a few college classes years ago. I could have applied myself better, stuck it out, and got the help I needed at the time. Yes, it would have taken me longer than SOME but it could and still can be done. I’m not sure this is what defines jealousy?
If you look Jealousy up in the Wikipedia it’s an emotion. The word refers to negative thoughts and feelings of insecurity, anger, anxiety over anticipated loss of something reference to human connection. The word these day’s is also distinct from envy. This is my confession letter.
Dear Brook,
I want to openly share because I’m hoping to find some clarity in my writing and accept your non friendship request you made all those years ago. I want good tidings for you, instead of the opposed.
We were in our elementary years. My family and yours would get together yearly. We’d run off to the park over the green hill in our dresses into the sunshine laughing and carrying on about who would go higher on the swing. We’d swing for what seemed to be hours, we’d discuss what we were going to be when we grew up, and we were going to do it together. We were both girly, wanting the same girly things joining the dance team, hanging out together without our parents, and even discussing our future together as doctors or lawyers. Many times after our family gatherings we’d go home and call each other the next morning talking and giggling about what we did the day before. We had so much fun that sometimes we’d ask my grandma if she would bring me over the next day. she’d visit with your mom and dad while we played Barbie dolls the whole time up in your room until it was time to leave.
The gatherings lasted four or five years but the friendship slipped away year after year. Yes, we would talk but each year got different. You got different, you still wore dresses, matching little outfits, with matching bows in your beautiful long black shiny hair, you went to gymnastic, dance, and competed in one more activity, you won many ribbons and trophies, you maintained your activities just like your parents maintained their marriage, you became friends with the kids who done the exact things as you, which didn’t include me. I still called you every chance I got hoping we could continue the friendship. One time your mom answered the phone. She said you “weren’t there” but then you yelled “mom who is it”
I caught that Brooks mom!
you let me go ahead and talk to her but the damage was done
You became friends with an acquaintance of mine, I grew jealous of as well. I didn’t understand what she had that I didn’t? One time when asking our acquaintance if I could go with her to your house she informed me her father told her I was only jealous of the relationship and didn’t want to miss out on what you two were doing. Which is true. At that point in my life it wasn’t in a mean or vindictive way. She also shared with me how you were upset that I had asked to come along. I was scared of things you two weren’t scared of and would only hinder your fun. When I heard that and what her father had shared as well, it hurt my feelings. I sobbed like a baby right in front of her! that day all of you confirmed to me everything I thought I was in one day. My feelings after my grief shifted that day to anger which led to hate.
We ran into each other a couple times in our twenties. We both had are own places, you even had that law degree. imagine that! You were still as slender and beautiful as you are now. You had a few people with you, you introduced me as a “distant” friend whatever the hell that means? at thirty when my grandma died you and your mother came up to me to send regards, you told me you would like to have lunch sometime. My response was “you get a hold of me I’m in the book.” You never did which came to know surprise. The straw that broke the camels back was after my twin boys passed away your mom sent a card to me and signed you and your husband’s name. I saved all the other cards. I tossed your moms in file thirteen.
I realize it may have been a bit creepy pressing you to be my friend all those years. In writing this letter just as I assumed I realize it’s not anger as much as it’s hurt and humiliation. I can read maybe a couple of things you supposedly told someone, could possibly be a lie especially now that we’re older I see her in a different light than when we were younger. I will take this into consideration in my stinking way of thinking. These feelings are lousy, yet sit on each shoulder-blade playing tug a war with each other battling over the right and wrong (flesh and spirit.) The wrong has a strong hold on me but my soul is saying these feelings are not right. The anger built up it turned it into a fight.
A fight with myself
My whole life I believed I was trash because of what others had said to me or about my looks. I have chosen to believe them and allow everyone except myself give me an identity. Which is odd because none of you know me? I’m a thirty something year old woman. I’m married to a good man, he’s been my friend, we have a son and he’s a doll face, I have a group of friends who love me and my shaded life, my job is good and brings me joy, we don’t make much but we pay the bills, and have a bit left over to say yes to Gabe more than no. I’m just as happy as you are even if were not picture perfect, Let me save you the suspense no one is. The most beautiful family pictures are photo shopped they don’t define people or there lives, neither does money. Lots of people have looks, lots of people have money but everyone has day’s in the shade!
What are some funny but truthful things your kids have Said?
The other day Gabe and I were shopping at Wal-Mart. Gabe Insisted on saying hello to all the passerby’s, I felt it was extreme. I told him “Gabe we need to be careful when talking to strangers.”
Gabe: Mom what’s a stranger?
Me: Anyone we don’t know their names
So then everyone we passed he told me they were strangers. In hopes he got the hint I shook my head yes and let him know he was correct. We get up in line to check out and there is a lady ahead of us.
Gabe: Taps on her shoulder “mam”
Lady: Yea
Gabe: What is your name?
Lady: Sarah
Gabe: Hi I’m Gabe
Gabe: Mom
Me: Yes Gabe
Gabe: This is Sarah and she is not a stranger anymore…
Do you have animals in your life? If no, why have you opted not to?
I have recently drifted from the 101, however I will eventually finish what I started. It may not be right on schedule but someday I will get it done. When I saw the prompt about our animals my mind started flooding about my dog, Murphy. He’s a Yorkie. He was mine first and foremost. My mom Linda called me out of the clear blue sky shortly after my “grams” passed away. She told me she was coming to get me we were going to go on a ride.
So let me inform y’all about my mom Linda. When she calls ya out of the blue and tells you she is on her way to pick you up, clap your hands together, keep them together swiftly rubbing them like you’re warming yourself up because something good is about to come your way. Linda is hard to catch and always on the go for the good of the family. If you ever get a chance to take a ride with her she is one train you don’t want to miss!
The trip was long. I can’t even tell you exactly where the place was. We went through five towns to get there,towns you only hear about on the weather radio. You know the ones you google and they only have like ten people living in them? uh yea, most of the driving consisted of narrow bumpy roads and lots of fields. One point on the car ride I had chalked it up that she had, had enough of my deep dark side and was going to end it for both of us. This is only a glimpse of how my imagination runs away with itself. I guess that is what I get for being a complete horror nut most of my life. My favorite seat in the house as a child was on grams lap eating sauerkraut from the jar, watching Hitchcock, Tales from The Darkside, and whatever mystery or horror grams had on. The older I got it just progressed maybe one day y’all can get a load of my nightmares.
We finally got to our destination.
An old house, on an old road, with an old farm. My mom pulled up into the driveway right next to a white utility van with no windows. The van looked to be old, It had rust in random spots, dents that looked as if during a high-speed chase they hit whatever was in their way and kept going. To the left was a cage th
[/caption]at had about five sections, each cage had three or four adult dogs in them. There was what I thought to be a chicken coop behind the cage? The house was white and it even looked as if it were lopsided. I sat in the car with my hand on the door handle observing and debating about getting out, Linda says in a firm tone let’s go! and gets out of the car quickly. I’m still holding on to the door handle. She says whats wrong? Well first of all were in the middle of no where, no one is coming outside to meet us, I’m just letting you know if we have to scream, screaming ain’t going to get anyones attention around here its going to fuel the flame. I don’t know if this is safe… My mom being my mom “Shelley get out of the car!” we walked up to the door Linda leading me, I’m trailing behind mumbling “as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death.” She motions me with her hand and an a violent whisper, “get over here!” she knocks on the door, we wait for a few moments, Linda is all up in the screen doing a side to side type thing with her head trying to get a glimpse of someone or something but cannot see through all the residue on the window. This wasn’t helping the thoughts that were playing out in my head. The lady cracks the screen only sticking her nose out. “Do you have the Yorkies for sale says Linda?” The lady stepped out of the door and kid you not. You know the grandma in Texas Chainsaw massacre? Yep same physique and hair do. I could have been too far into my imagination but I was scared out of my wits! She said “follow me” you know that chicken coop we discussed earlier? We’re headed right towards it. I whispered in Linda’s ear let’s just go home? “shut up Shelley” when she opened the door of the coop the smell of dog poo took your breath away, you couldn’t escape a fly, the dogs barking and yelping sounded like human cries for help, and the medium-sized cages with more than one dog in them was an animal lovers worst nightmare.
I was in a puppy mill for the first time in my life and was over whelmed with sadness, helplessness and anger. The company surrounding me was obviously not on the same page. (I stood there as my mom walked forward with the lady from the massacre) and looked around at miles upon miles of puppies. Linda says where are the yourkies? We headed to the back to the far left corner of the coop. This particular cage sat lower than the rest and was a bit longer in size, In the corner all curled up was my dog “this is the last one he was the biggest out of the litter” and I reckon that is why nobody took him.” My mom said “he is yours if want him?” yep let’s go! My mom chuckled as the lady handed Murphy to me. She said “are you sure this is the dog you want?” are you kidding? This is who we came for and this is who we’re leaving with, he shook as he always does when he’s scared. She handed him to me, his cage was right by the door so I made a mad dash outside. When Murphy saw the light for the first time he could barely open his eyes, when I put him down on the ground he marched in one place getting used to the grass, after he did his business he walked over putting his paw on my shoe letting me know to pick him up.
My mom did the deal with the devil and we were on our way!
Murphy has always showed his appreciation of my rescue that day. He has been exactly what my mom bought him for, my grief. Through my grams, through my foster child, our twins and a few of my residents. He knows my grief cry compared to any other cry. He is patient when the grief comes, it’s almost like he knows I need that time to mourn. He will walk slowly over to where I’m lying and every time a tear falls he nestles right under my neck as if he is trying to catch every single one.
Today’s Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life and isn’t anymore. Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.
If you had the power to change one thing about this world what would it be and why? Please feel free to leave your answer in the comments.
In my last post we talked about songs that had important meaning in my life. In which I told you Phil Collins, In The Air tonight: reminded me of my friend Nikki and her mom. She was the first friend in elementary school I ever had. She is my lost someone who isn’t anymore.
“God has a habit of picking up nobodies and making them sombodies.”
The school we both attended at the time was predominately all white. She was the color of a Snickers Bar and I was a bit lighter like the background of a Cheerios box. We both had coarse curly hair, only with hers you could see her curls, since her mom knew how to manage it. My hair was just a thick, short, frizz ball of fuzz that stood straight up.
My friend and I would have sleep overs. We would always play with each others hair especially when our hair was wet. We would have competitions about who’s hair was longest. She would always win. This did not bother me. I was just glad to have a friend who was like me. She didnt stare at me, she didn’t ask me questions about my dad, Why he had red hair and was white and I was dark with hair that didn’t necessarily add up! She loved me the way people should love regardless of color, gender. size, age and anything else that will fit into this category. She was the only black girl this “black girl” had and I’m not black, but it was the way kids and adults seen us, from the “outside.”
I lost understanding and equality when she vanished from my life.
I never knew what she meant to me until the day before yesterday. My thoughts have come back to her all my life. Recently my dad sent me a message it was a link to her dad’s obituary, When we were asked to write about the songs that had significant meaning “In The Air Tonight” was the first song that came to the shore, now here I am writing this post about loss and yet she shows up again…
This is why I been writing. To get down to the nitty-gritty of all the things that have been laying dormant in my life for years. I won’t lie somethings have lingered especially the bullies but I’m pressing forward in hopes to forgive those who know not what they do. I have been held hostage long enough and I,m to old to be looking over my shoulder wondering why these kids treated me the way they did.
Steve and I have been looking for houses. This has been an ongoing battle in more ways than one. The more time it takes, I realize “What I am looking for is not out there its inside me” Helen Keller
Prompt: Woo we, someday instead of barley having time for one of the activities above, I might be able to participate in them all.
IN THE MEANTIME IN-BETWEEN TIME
Last night when Gabe was getting ready for bed, we noticed a bright light on outside his window.
Which is odd for the hour…
We both pressed are noses to the window to see Steve (my husband) out there fiddling around in the shed.
Gabe and I both look up, not saying a word, gazing at each other curiously for more than a few seconds, then he turns back pressing his nose on the window and says…
children (my step children.) The trip went well for a few days considering we not only visit the children but the ex-wife too. I would enjoy explaining the details but when it comes down to it, it would not be right of me. I will tell you. Gabe always enjoys taking the trip and even though at times its uncomfortable for me. I just know (well I hope) Gabe will have something to talk with his siblings about one day.
Life In My Tin Can 