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!

 

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Update

Longstockings, is in her mid forties. Years ago she developed a rare brain disease. The disease has affected her eyes, speech, and walking.  It’s not a fatal disease but it has come with neurological problems.

You can’t walk past her room without her calling out your name to either show you some move she learned in exercise or to complain about the argument her and her mother had.

Her parents are involved in our home activities. Her mom helps the activity director  with the residents when taking them to the Muni, fundraisers, Special Olympics, and she always helps me organize Longstockings room

Her siblings that live in our town will also show up to our chili supper, Christmas party, and once in a great moon to fix or give her something.

This particular brother that she had on the phone the other night lives In another state. He don’t get in as much as the others, however he will call, write, and send updated pictures to her.

He did make it to the home. He brought his wife and kids. They played a few  games in then went out for pizza!

 

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The Be Thankful Challenge

IMG_1086

Raphaela, has nominated me for the Be Thankful Challenge. Thank you for this honor.

Challenge Rules

Share this image in your blog post

  • Write about five people in your life you are thankful for
  • Write about five things in 2015 that you are thankful for
  • Spread the love and challenge five other blogs to take part

Five people in my life that I’m thankful for.

*My husband Steve, he gave me my son and also his ears. I have told him more than one dark secret. He listens like a hunter hunting a deer.  I am thankful he still here.

* My son, he has brought the joy to my life. I blurt out in song all the time when we’re home, tonight he is under the weather. I was giving him cough medicine while singing “a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down the medicine go down the medicine go down” Mom, I’m tired of you singing all the time. I let out a wine and made a sad face. Mom, I still love you, I just don’t feel like hearing you sing right now…

*My mom Linda, she has taught me how to look inside myself and others. “It’s who we are there that counts” this may sound a bit off the bunny trail… I have this head full of hair, it is black, thick, kinky, course, and grows out instead of down. Years ago before developing vitiligo (which turns the skin milky white I’m one hundred percent covered now) people would refer to me as mixed with black and white. We lived in small towns during my childhood. I got the worst of one world. I won’t go into it because I have already. I’m just trying to help you understand Linda. I suppose living in the small town we do now people see my hair and may think I have something in me. My son the other day came home and told me “I was not his mom because he was white and I’m black” I told him that I was not black and changed the subject. This brought back triggers of being younger. I  didn’t want to make my thoughts his thoughts. I called my mom later and she said you just tell him “so what it does not matter what color I’m” I forget myself at times that it don’t matter if people think this. The only reason it hurt me is because of my past. I’m thankful that she reminds of the person I’m instead of labels people put on me.

* For readers on this platform who have encouraged me to continue writing and told me it’s okay to write whatever you want. You don’t have to have a plan. Write about what happened during your day, whats going on right now, or what Gabe says “readers love to hear about what kids say” These comments have taken the pressure off, given me fuel to write, and not feel as though I need to impress the world.

*For my dad, he is a believer and has pushed me all through life. He never lets me talk down to myself. When I did he would build me up. I took a class three years ago out at the community college. I had to gather lots of information from my past because I needed proof to get the help they offered for my organization skills. It brought me back to who I let people believe I was then. I made several calls to him during this class because of the nice comments the teachers would make about my writing. I was always shocked because I had never had anyone else comment on my work  or what I put into it, except for him. At the end of the class she pulled me aside and told me she had enjoyed reading my work. She wanted to publish  one of my papers into a college art book. I decided against it because it had to go through a board and they had the last decision. I did not want to take the chance of having my balloon popped. The gesture was enough. When I told my dad, I cried because of everything I went through how kids treated and talked about me. My dad said “they were kids then Shelley they are not the same people anymore you still think people think that way about you and they don’t” he also said I had a hidden talent and I should continue to write. Here I-am on my two-year anniversary!

Five Things I am grateful for

*Ears for those who listen

*Joy during grief

*Wisdom for the long haul

*Support when the going gets rough

*Love to light the way

I nominate the following to take part in the challenge

1. Raspberry Daydreams

2. TheLoneRose

3. My Weary Mind

4. Dear lily June

5. smiling Notes

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I wrote

The last post  to build more story, Does anyone else use this method?

It was hard trying to keep some sort of normalcy for Gabe while “Saltine Cracker” was fighting for his life. My friend Audra, named her, her first name. We finished her middle and last. We bought her at Pet Smart when she was Ten weeks old. She had light green feathers, two or three red feathers under her right-wing, a black tail, with a black cap head and a sweet disposition. Gabe ruffled those green feathers of hers one to many times. Towards the end of her life if she was out of her cage. She enjoyed sitting by him and watching his every move. When he “tried” to pick her up she would peck him! She loved my husband because he was the one who held her, cleaned her cage, and fed her. Steven acted like he always does during sad times. The middle wrinkle on his forehead gets bigger, his face looks clammy, he shuts down, and always look as if he’s about to flee the scene. When I asked him if he was okay he said he was feeling stressed out and he hated to see Saltine die.

When calling my mom for comfort, she asked me if we were taking care of the bird. She said when she was here last the bird was picking at itself. First off, that is what birds do, it’s called Preening. Lets just say when my moms bird died it had lost all its feathers. Saltine was loaded to the gills with feathers! My parents did not like the bird. They said it was the source for Gave and I always being sick.

My friend Audra had lost her cat the night before, my friend Nico lost her gecko, minutes before my bird died. I felt uncanny about how close together they all died and wondered if something was in the air. I mentioned my thoughts to Steve, he didn’t say much. I have to watch my thoughts. My anxiety gets the best of me. This last year I have had panic attacks. I TAKE medicine for them but it doesn’t ALWAYS help. I have heard if a bird drops dead it is usually the sign of a gas leak. At one point during this turmoil I just knew the air in our home was looking smokey, everything around me was blurry, and my stomach was bilious. I couldn’t tell you what snapped me out of it, maybe the medicine?

I had also taken a pregnancy test this same night and we found it negative. We have been trying for another baby for about three years now and haven’t had any news. We are not devastated just disappointed. It’s hard to believe the sun is going down on this part of my life.

Stay tuned

Family · Home

Crying-Out-Loud

Last night cooking supper I noticed our bird hanging upside from his food bowl. I gave our parrot a smile and continued fixing our supper. When I walked by the cage again he was sitting on the bottom with his green feathers puffed out. I stood at his cage for a moment staring in on him. He usually don’t  sit in one place at the bottom of his cage. He either rubs his beak trying to get something off or he’s picking food off his floor. I read one time in a parrot pamphlet, “its abnormal behavior for them to be sitting on the bottom” I bent down opened his door and grabbed him out to take a closer look. When I put him on my finger he didn’t clinch it with his tight sharp grip, I embraced him in my hand and gently flipped him over to check out his feet thinking he may of hurt one, this was not the case. He did not fight me at all while accessing him and upon noticing this my heart started beating faster, thoughts racing and it was getting harder to focus. I then notice him opening his beak but nothing  was coming out, not a chirp or peck. There was a bit of food on his beak which calmed me down, for a second thinking this was the problem. Unfortunately, he was still struggling to breath. I put him back down realizing he was on his way out, opened the back door where my husband hangs out on the deck and chain smokes. “Steve the bird is dying, what the hell did you do to him”? My husband being his calm self “nothing” he continued to puff away as the door slammed! It took a minute to start rationalizing because of hurt and panic. I knew he was dying and also new that it was too late in the game to head into town to the vet. The last time one of my animals went into respiratory distress. I got to the office, handed him over to the vet, as he started toward the back to check him out, the kitten died. The vet billed me for the hand off…

When Steven came in, I shared my thoughts on the subject, he did not disagree. We took Saltine in our room to pass. I felt this was to heavy for Gabe to know and watch.”Salty” died minutes later. I cried the rest of the time cooking supper my husband called out my name which was a prompt to “get a hold of myself'” I still stood at the sink slowly washing dishes with my back turned to my son. He then started telling me a story and when he was done. He asked me a question about his story. When I wouldn’t turn around he started digging his way in front of the sink and me “mom answer my question” ( I would have if I knew what he had asked).

“mom are you crying over my story”

“yes with a loud wail”

Family · Home · memories

Million Dollar Night Gown

This post is older. I wanted to share it with you. I have gained three or four more followers since. I also wanted to thank all of you for following me and all your encouragement. You know how to make a gal feel welcome.. I have enjoyed your journey’s as well and look forward to many more of your post. Thanks again.

Life In My Tin Can

As a young girl my grandma helped my dad out a lot on the weekends. When my dad had to work. On Friday’s she would come to get me and my brother.

My grandma was a bit more laid back then my father with getting our way. We’d   go shopping for clothes, toys, and out to eat. You know the things most grandmas do?

She always enjoyed having us stay over.

The second you walked into her house it was like walking into a different world. She would greet us with a smile and hug. My childhood troubles would be lifted like a book-bag loaded with seven or eight books at her door. She would ask questions about our lives. What our you working on in school? Do you like your teacher? hows your dad been? I would answer her questions but tell her more about the bullies in…

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friendship · Home

Laughing To The Grave

Too Soon

Can anything be funny or are some things off-limits?

In my opinion, there are times you need to be serious and try not to make light of a situation. I also believe in serious moments, humor happens. Here are a few examples.

After our twins were born. The hospital gave us an option to have a visitation, people could come and see Willy and Gabe before they took them. I wasn’t for sure I was up to it or not but my husband had purchased mementos he wanted to give to everyone. That night all my friends, his parents, and brothers came up to visit. I was sitting up in bed, most of my friends were sitting on the side with me. A nurse who was assigned to my room when they first diagnosed my Premature Labor came in to tell me she was sorry to hear about my loss. She did this out of  genuine compassion because she was not assigned to me during this time. The whole room was quiet as she expressed her sympathy, which wasn’t easy at all for her to do. The only noise you could hear was people catching their breath and sniffing. My friend Sarah pats my arm, gets up off my bed, walks over and pulls a wad of kleenex out of the box and blows her nose like an eighty year old man in the doctor’s office with a hanky!  My friend Allison was the first one to laugh than me and after that there we all were!

I also chose for the hospital to put the funeral on for Gabe and Willy. Which took us to a cemetery here in town, it’s a big cemetery. They have a designated area for the babies, on top of a hill. You have to walk over another hill before you get to the top of this one. My mom, me and my friend Allison were watching people as they were trying to carefully walk down this muddy hill. One lady wasn’t so lucky as the mud got the best of her. To the ground she went and rolled like a barrel all the way down…

My dad is the serious one in my parents marriage. He secretly digs my moms humor, which sometimes involves him. Not long ago we were all out to eat together. We got on the subject of an acquaintance of theres who had a spouse that recently passed. They had found another companion. I asked my mom if she thought it was weird that she was “back in the saddle”. My mom says. “Shelley not at all, I’m engaged to be married the day after your dads funeral…” I laughed hard as my dad sat there shaking his head, rolling his eyes, and not even giving the slightest smile.

We have talked many times about where I work. My residents are Visually Impaired. When one of them passes on its hard for some of are residents to get out and go to their funeral. We have memorials here in the building in honor of the resident who passes away. This allows residents to be able to talk about their “good times”. We did this recently for “Jack” when he died. We had quite a few who came down. They sat in the dining-room. We have couches that make a square all the way around the room, They started from right to left, “Emmet” was on the other side which would make her last. They let everyone know that they had to wait their turn. Each one of the residents were standing up telling the preacher about one thing they remember doing with “Jack” or something funny he said. All the other residents and staff quietly sat and listened meanwhile Emmett was raising her hand, standing halfway up to try to raise it further, she would get tired of holding that hand up and start in with the other, grunting, moaning, whispering pick me pick me…

I call these “hold Ons” constellations to shine down on us in times of darkness giving us hope and a future.

 

Children · friendship · Home

Cruising

When Childhood Ends, Write about a defining moment in your life when you are forced to grow up in an instant (for a series of instants)

There are a few moments that define when I was no longer a child. I have been faced with decisions in my life especially with the twins, even with that decision I wonder if the state I was in at that moment of my life if it was a rash decision or a decision made out of anger and pain… It may be a topic we talk about one day or not. It’s a controversial subject it would open doors for others to chime in and I have come to far to open all those sores.

My husband and I take drives every now and then to get out-of-town, not to far, far enough where we have time to talk, talk about the things we don’t normally discuss at home during the work week and raising our son. I can’t remember the exact date. What I do remember is thinking “this is what it feels like to be a grown-up) We were on the subject of ex-girlfriends and boyfriends. If you have read my about me, I-am wife number three for my husband. He will tell you the first wife was a mistake. We barely talk about her, as he says “it don’t matter because there is no history” take that comment however you want because it’s for the best.

His second wife is where conversations get complicated. They have children together, he did love her, and enjoyed their friendship. On the day we took this drive, we had just found out some news about her and her husband that was concerning to him. It brought him back to a conversation that they had together before their divorce and her new marriage. I could tell Steve was having a bit of a hard time explaining his emotions he had going on inside, to me. I-am typically a jealous woman when it comes to him but this particular day I told him it was okay to share his hurt and regret with me. I felt led to keep my mouth shut for him and that is what I did. He was able to tell his story without me sighing, chiming in, explaining his feelings and all the other bull that comes along with those certain conversations.

I recently told you about another mishaps regarding  the ex-wife and the daughter. (click here) I did take the advice of a few of my readers. I apologized with a brief note and she accepted and told me that she appreciated my apology.

Children · Family · Home

A Different Perspective

I was talking on the phone with my friend Michelle the other day about what I wanted to do with my life. It’s always been a regular conversation piece with us. She’s grounded and always challenges my pipe dreams. I told her I was thinking about changing my career path in school. (which by the way I have never started) to Social work. I do lots of talking and dreaming, please don’t feel like you need to chime in and tell me I can do it or still have time. It’s not what I-am going after in this post.

“Shelley I think you should continue to counsel people like you have been doing most of your life I think once you go into that career there’s red tape, it might mangle your outlook and damage the angle you do take with people.

I would suppose there is lots of truth in what she said

As long as I can remember people have confided in me, not only sharing their ideas or rundavoos but tragedies, mistakes, and what ifs. In my middle-age years I’ve come to think of it as a gift. I believe I was given the gift of love. It’s always been easy for me to do, more than the alternative. I will admit sometimes I fudge up but I try to keep my eye on the ball. I made a pact to myself when I was younger that I wouldn’t call people names for what they looked like or what they did or didn’t have. As I grew older my pact grew.

When your younger it’s all about looks, what you wear, and money. In your older years those things do follow but people start damning you for your choices, thoughts, and mistakes. I-am not going to tell you that I sit and agree with everything that is shared with me. It’s not my place to try to fix or change anyone either. My place in this world is  to love and you can never steer anyone wrong with love.

One year in Two-Thousand-Three or Four, I was working with a cook. She worked every other weekend with me. On Sundays it was always just me and her working. She lived right behind the building we worked in. In the mornings from the dining room windows I would watch as she stumbled into work late.

She was tall, skinny and had light-brown shoulder link hair, It looked like she didn’t brush it. I would open the back door for her and she would say, “It was another rough night Shelley”.  I would smile, say hello and act like I didn’t hear what she said, not because of conflict but because the heaviness in her eyes and the frown on her face told me a story.

I knew I would hear

We were taking a break in the living-room of our job one fall afternoon. I can still see the multicolored colored leaves on all the tress around the windows that lined the Living-room of where we were sitting. She was on one couch and I was on another one across from her. She slurred asking me “How my day was going” being so long ago I don’t quite remember what I told her, knowing me something light-hearted one of the residents did or said to cheer up the moment of awkwardness, we had going on since we hadn’t had too much conversation.

Her: Do you have any children?

Me: No

We sat in silence for a few brief moment after I answered my question. Deep down for some reason I didn’t feel lead to return the question but noticed her head dropped down right along with her face as I gave her a look and a smile.

Her: Do you want any?

“Someday”

Her:  I have three children my oldest are sixteen and eighteen, they’re in Foster-Care. We get to visit on Wednesdays if they want to see me, which usually they do.

“It’s nice you all get together”

Her: We talk about their sister who is three. She just got adopted. It’s an open adoption and in this open adoption they get pictures of her, and I don’t. They show them to me when we visit. We will spend our visit discussing the pictures. They’re a good conversation piece.

The couple who adopted her lives in the country. Before the adoption went through, they were nice enough to let me come out for home visits. After we had gotten acquainted. They have a nice big yard for her to play in, with one of those big wooden swing-sets, a pool and animals. She’s happy Shelley and that’s all that matters. As her voice cracked tears streamed down my face just like they are right now.

“I’m glad she’s happy”

Her: You want to know something? Some days I take a drive out where she lives. If she’s playing outside, I pull over and watch her. I daydream about getting out of my car, walking up into the field, stand there and see if she sees me. I wonder if she would come running yelling “mommy” Mommy” and remember who I am. I come back to reality. I have multiple addictions and have for years, I just can’t do it.

I nodded my head and told her crying, Thank you for sharing not only a painful but dark-side of your life with me, also for giving me a different perspective to an Open Adoption.

Towards the end of my Foster-Care Class, the teacher was on the subject of Open Adoption and asked the class “Could you be a part of one”?

I raised my hand and told her and the class the same exact encounter I had with this woman “yes I wouldn’t have made a life changing decision to be a Foster Parent without this mother of a child who forfeited her “happiness” for a lifetime of heartache and what ifs.