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….
I have not been able to find the words to write a post. I am finding out that I enjoy reading about others just as much if not more than my own life. I am sure I have built up an imagination on those of you, I read about. I find myself wanting to ask who you are, where your from, and if you’re everything my mind has made up? I talk to my mom about SOME of you. She is real wise. She sometimes thinks I get to wrapped up,but she listens to what I read her and even sometimes comments. She is not big into blogs but if she was all of you would like her. I know a FEW of you have been going through some hard times. I know we don’t know one another, at times I want come over to your houses and hug you and let you know you have a friend in me. Please don’t think weird of me. I take it this is SOME of the reason you write. I have just been thinking on writing something up to show you how much your blogs have touched my life and know I’m thinking of you.
“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.
I wanted to share this gift I received from a secret pal at work not to long ago.It put a smile on my face about a mile long. I had been working my tail to the bone this specific week and this small gesture took a big load off the old backside.
Describe your last nightmare. What do you think it meant?
All last week I was busy, with my regular job, side job and spending time with family that I haven’t been able to sit-down and write. I couldn’t wait until today. I have a few hours for myself. I had planned on writing to all of you but my slate was blank. Then as I was looking at my reader my eyebrows raised up from the dead!
Nightmares: They have stuck by me my entire life. I can’t say that I have never had a good dream because it would be a lie. I wrote a poem not so long ago about windows which didn’t actually turn out the way I seen it but was one of the most symbolic dreams of my life. Do I believe dreams have a meaning? Yes, sometimes it’s a direct line from god to you. Go ahead and chuckle. We all have gifts and it says so here.
My dream!
My friend Christy decided to move to a gated community. She asked me to think about moving in? I decided to pop in for an unannounced visit one evening! It was spitting rain, foggy and only a few cars sat in the parking lot. I got out of my car to no voices, no birds chirping or wind blowing. I walked up the steel stairs to apartment number thirty-eight and loudly knocked! the door opened slow as she peeked her head from behind it, bleakly staring at me without a word. She walked over to her card table. On top of it was a black rotary phone. The phone rang and startled the crap out us! She answered hello in a mono tone voice. she answered yes, no, and said Thank you? After she hung up she informed me she was going to step outside. I watched her walk down the stairs, pass the parking lot, to a vacant, dusty, storage unit. I decided to head down there. Upon arrival, my friend of twenty some years was holding a cigarette and trying to hide it. After all these years? I was just about ready to say something. Then out of nowhere I heard my name being called. It was muffled and faint but it was my name. I squinted my eyes looking around for whoever it was. Then over by the stairs I saw what looked to be an old man with a brown, dirty, tattered cloak that covered is head. He barely made my name out as he motioned me over. The closer I got I noticed he or she was cradling something in his hand. When we came up on one another I could barely see his face to make out the sex of what was in front of me. The small baby he cradled in one arm looked like a blow up toy that had just been deflated. He held the baby out as to offer me to take him, I wept over his lifeless body as I wrapped my arms around him for a better grip. He opened up his mouth and took a bite out of my arm with his three sharp pointy teeth, I pressed through the pain without loosing a stride. We walked over to the storage shed, and went inside. The light rica shade off the glossy tiles making them look like porcelain, the showers were on and a blanket of clear water covered the tiles and my bare feet. I lathered the baby up with soap, hugs, and kisses over and over with each piece of affection his lifeless body begun to fill up. He became the full, beautiful, thriving baby he was created to be all because of love life was restored.
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.
