Decisions, decisions How are you more likely to make an important decision-by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?
If you would have asked me this question about four months back, I would have told you that I contemplated on all my decision. I would call my three life lines and run things by them asking what they thought? After having confirmation from them, I would still teeter and stagnate. Sometime its easier to play it safe, Don’t you think? One of my procrastinations was moving, yes moving out of the Tin Can. It had nothing to do with the fact that it was a trailer. We had not been good at keeping the trailer up. The home needed some repairs. There were some dents in the floor, the carpet had been there since I moved in eight years ago, windows were cracking and leaking, the place just needed to be refurbished. If I knew then what I know now I would have made the changes it needed before moving in. If you want me to be real though. My finances at the time would not allow me to do the repairs, it needed then. It was perfect for me than because it was just myself and my foster baby. He was getting ready to leave and go live with his grandma. This was not a choice of mine. We prayed and prayed. The day they tested his D.n.a, because an older lady thought he’d belonged to her son. If that was the case she wanted to step up. My family and I fought hard for the little, dark, chunk of burning love but we lost… He brought us seven months of joy and the decision was out of my hands.
We had to make a decision about the trailer. To put money the money we had into it or find something else. We wracked our brains and eyes, always driving around looking but nothing more than looking. I was getting board and confused about what my husband wanted to do. He wasn’t saying much. I was overwhelmed with all the things we accumulated and needed to get rid of because they were collecting dust. I made a phone call one day to my dad and told him basically what I wrote to all of you. He informed me that I was holding myself back and gave me clarity.
Dad: Shelley, Sometimes you have to hold your nose and jump in. I would be still living in the trailer you grew up in, if I hadn’t jumped. You make your decision than you learn that sometimes there right and sometimes there wrong. The only way you’ll find out, is by taking a chance. You’re a good judge and whatever you choose to do I-am confident you will be okay.
We made the move and I feel so much better. We did not buy a house, yet. We our living in a five-room duplex its small, remodeled and clean. We got rid of all those things that were collecting dust, if we need any maintenance work we just call the landlord. This works for us right now because we work, have a child, and a marriage to maintain. We decided at this point we’re not big fix it people. So if we bought a house we might end up right back in the situation we started in. If there is one thing I try to live by that also came from my dad years ago. “Never Back Only Forward”
How are things going with you? let me know in the comments or give me a ring. I have been thinking of my friend of thirty years lately. So I thought I would write you an open letter and catch you up blog style. I had a job interview the other day. I may have informed you a bit ago about how Cheryl’s sister, Sondra’s husband has been trying to talk me into working where he works. He says they pay better and they have better insurance… They’re about three times the size of where I work now.
I wanted to tell you about the interview process
I signed in at the front desk at ten o’clock. The time my interview was set for. They informed me it was a group interview and to have a seat. There were five other girls sitting in the chairs in front of the desk. I put a big smile on my face and sat next to a girl who was still in high-school. She said hello and asked me my name and told me hers. She told me this was her “second interview here, but first group interview.” I could tell she was a bit nervous just like me and trying to stand out a bit by being friendly.(We discussed it might be a part of the interview to see how we interact with strangers.) A few moments after sitting down a woman named “Kathy Bates” asked us if we were ready? We all agreed, she said to follow her. We walked back further into the lobby where a Grand Piano sat, in front of it were five or six tables and chairs (wooden) If you look further there was a black tile floor for maybe dancing? (whatever you as the reader would like to imagine) we took a sharp left down a long hall, which was boring so I didn’t pay much attention to detail, around another corner we took there were residents eating in a “restaurant” type area that actually had a counter, and a person behind it grilling, and a waitress on the floor taking orders from the five or six residents dining. We walked around another corner that led us to the door of this theatre type room with four rows of theatre type chairs, down by the screen was eight people men and woman dressed to the nines with clip boards and papers. We all got seated and “Kathy Bates” explained to us how they like doing interviews this way because it works for them. She didn’t go into detail. My mind did. I figured since they’re a good size facility it goes quicker. They can interview everyone at one time instead of scheduling each individual interview and it taking weeks sometimes months. She said she was going to ask each of us a question, which she did. She had us start by each of us telling who we were and how long we had been nursing assistants? here are a few questions.
1.) Tell me a negative situation you were in that had a negative outcome?
2.) How would you handle a combative resident with dementia?
3) (My question) What do you do on your down time? Me: I have been at my job for fourteen years. I have moved into a friendship with most of my residents. I’m usually in their rooms spending time with them and helping them clean.
The panel of people by the screen was taking notes after each one of us answered our questions. When they got done writing our answers, “Kathy Bates” informed us they were going to the back room to discuss who would proceed further into the interview process and not to be upset if you were “sent home.” I thought to myself “what is this American Idol? We all sat there for about ten minuets and a guy named “Bluto” came to the front and says Shelley and “Betty Boop” come with me!
Return for the second half of Life In My Tin Can…….
My husband’s daughter came to visit us for the first time in four years. If you click on This link, you’ll get more insight, You’ll also see where I provided a link to share with you, a song her and I shared on smule (a karaoke app.) One of the few times we bonded or even talked for more than five minutes. It was a nice moment and I enjoyed our short time we had together. I was excited enough to send the link to her mother, not only to share her daughter’s voice but our interaction together…
In my need for acceptance I was a bit carless and selfish because of the song choice. The ex-wife was quick to point out my carelessness not to my face but she did let him know. first I was angry and thought she was just jealous. Then later I started thinking and I regret to inform you the song was NOT appropriate for an eleven year old girl to be singing.
I was so caught up in the moment and a few days after, that I didn’t even think about the song choice. I’m turning to my followers for advice and wisdom. Do YOU think I should call and apologize or should I let it be?
P.s I took the song off the record in a fit of rage. I do think it was for the best?
It was more towards the end of the month. when people start decorating for the fourth of July. We are from The United States. We had been out late this particular night and Gabe was still wound for sound. I told my husband to drive around for a few minutes he agreed. We drove down a road that seemed a bit more lit up with red, white and blue. Gabe pointed out “look mom it’s the American flag?” (He Is five.)
Mom: Yes Gabe
Gabe: Can we get out and say the Pledge Of Allegiance
Steve and I looked at one another like we didn’t know what he was talking about? Steve whispered to me. “I thought they took the Pledge out of schools”
Me: I’m not sure… Gabe who taught you the Pledge?
My husband and son. They are laying down at a festival watching fireworks
Gabe: Mrs W
I told Steve we need to do as he asked us because of what it represents and to MYSELF and my HUSBAND it’s freedom, sacrifice, and God
Me: Park across the street in that vacant lot. We step out of the car, we put our right hand over our hearts and say the pledge. Gabe knew the whole pledge and never missed or skipped a beat. I was not only proud to be his mother at that moment (and many others of course.) I was also proud of the teacher who taught him about the flag and the pledge!
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!
