Journal, Entry

Yesterday, was my first day off I had since last Monday. I told you last time we had gone in to overtime at work, because we WERE short-staffed. We have two residents who are on hospice care. The boss wants two people on duty at all times, because both of the residents are total care.

When Steve (my husband) came home from work, he fired up the grill. I wrapped up potatoes in foil, to have him put on the grill. I finished doing what was left of the dishes, and HE sucked up the leaves, with the blower!

The sun was shining, kids were laughing, playing, and I could smell freshly cut grass.

I decided to walk over to the school, and pick Gabe up from after school care. He was on the swing by himself, and I quietly stood there watching him swing. One of his friends came up to him holding a soccer ball. He asked Gabe if he would play soccer with him? Gabe, said no. I then spoke up from behind him, and said: why not? He said “Mom where did you come from?”

We gathered up his backpack, jacket, and signed him out. He told me he was on green (which is good.) Then told me there was a note in his bag. I un-zipped the bag as we walked home, and he helped me pull the note out of his blue folder. The note read “Is Yelling A Daily Event At Your House” I stopped, and looked at Gabe after I finished reading the invite to the school from a speaker who is going to share “effective techniques of getting through to our kids without yelling.”

I asked him if he thought we needed the class? “he said: “well Dad does.”

I shoved the paper back into the bag. I could see my husband working in the yard, as Gabe, and I got closer to the driveway.

Gabe, crossed the street, and I paused as I watched him walk up into the yard.I couldn’t help but ask God, how did I ever get here? what in the world, did I do deserve this moment?

The sun shining, Gabe laughing, and Steve in the front yard, working, and waiting for us to come home. If I happen not to make it through the day Lord, thank you, thank you, for another beautiful day!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Long Time No Talk

I know how much you’ve missed me… I’ve been missing you too. And that’s on the real.

I think, all of you, will be happy to know, I’m reading my second book since the year 2009. I’m bound and determined to finish what I’ve  started. I ask that you stay with me, through my hiatus?

The book I’m reading, is “fiction”.

To tell the truth I’m not a fan of fiction. I thrive on real life stories of people who have survived addictions, abuse, and illnesses.

I love when people dig into themselves and all their obstacles life has given them.

The book, I’m reading, might be based on SOME truths. In my opinion!

I believe the Lord does give us visions and dreams. I have written about them in some of my blogs.

Yes, the book is about an encounter with God!

One time, I dreamed, I was walking on clouds in the sky.Walking cotton ball after cotton ball. For miles.

To my right there were tables with blinding white tablecloths. There were people of all kinds surrounding these tables.

They all had porcelain skin, skin so radiant their glow would guide you through any black night. They were watching me, and I them.

The walk didn’t seem to bother me.

I felt time on my side, and nothing hanging on my shoulders. I felt like a piece of fuzz from a dandelion someone blew into the air.

The people whom turned my head, appeared the same way.

In front of me, far into the distance.

I seen a woman with her hand up. She waved back and forth, like a flag in a gentle breeze. At first I squinted my eyes, and forehead, in wonder, who this could be?

I got closer, and  recognized my Grandma.

She looked to be in her late forties early fifties. Her skin smooth and radiant just like I described the other people to you..

Her hair was short, black, thick, freshly, curled, and set. I waved back at her as she stared into my eyes, with that smile that lit up her cheeks. I had to keep moving with the clouds and she kept moving too, staying in the distance, letting me know she’s always with me.

A GIFT from God, I BELIEVE to get me through the times we are not together…

Fiction or Non Fiction?

You’re FREE to decide.

LooK OUT BELOW

The storm outside tonight wants to let loose but it’s stagnating, like my mind right now. The thunder sounds like a jet flying back and forth, waiting to drop a bomb. I want to type a post, but there is much on my mind, as always. Once in a while I get set free, but not tonight. So with this said, I have decided to share some post that have stood out to me. I will dedicate it to my two-hundred followers, this will also make blog post one-hundred-one. Go us!

My first shout out will always go to Diane from HOMETOGO232. Diane, writes about her mother, husband, kids, and sister. I can feel the love her single mother had for her, in her writing. There is a sweetness that fills your cup of tears, and overflows you with joy. She was my first follower, and also the first one to get me established on this platform. She took me under her wing, explaining things step by step, (on computer mind you) encouraging my writing. She became friends with me on fb and when I would post a story on their and was not writing on here. She would ask “why don’t you post this on your blog” and she did this on more than one occasion. In her blogroll her explanation of my blog says: “I write from the heart” it  makes me feel good, about what I do write. I had to do a double take of what she wrote, because I have read a few blogs that I consider “from the heart” and don’t think I measure up. However, Diane thank you for the compliment and keeping me going.

My second shout out is, dearlilyjune. I not only read this blog, but learn as well. The post I linked you to, is a favorite of mine. However, I have more than one. This post,  built me a road to drive on for miles that was not there before. I had always looked at certain poems, and said they were over my head, deeper than my own water-well. Poems like this one, which I love and she introduced that poem to me on this post. My good friend Freebird also writes poems and after reading dearlilyjunes post it came together because some poetry freebird writes is stuff only she knows, secrets from certain times in her life. When I asked her to break-down certain parts, she said no. Dearlilyjunes  taught me that I don’t need to understand word for word what the poet is trying to say. In her post she explains how to look at poetry from another light. I had been under the wrong impression and thank her for broaden my horizons. I want you to do what makes you happy, A. I can’t wrap this blip up without telling you what a great teacher you are, I do hope you re-consider.

My third shout out, is Freebird, If you all don’t know, we know one another, from my current job. She has found greener grass else where, and is using her degree. If you click on her name, it will take you, to one of my favorite blogs from her. I’m not a single mother. I have two good friends who had to raise their kids on their own. I think this post she wrote, is lovely, and hope a few more people stop by and read what she has to say. I don’ know how life feels for her, but she explains single motherhood well in this post. She grabbed my heart from start to finish. I would like to see a few of her own head over as well!

My fourth shout out, is The Hill Billy Blogger, one of the reasons I love this post, is because, I came across this beauty when writing my own blog about my first love, there is also a second half. I love reading and writing on this platform. I feel  something divine is going on. If we read about others and their lives, it helps  to make our own way through this life. In the first post about my first love. I told you, how I was restless with the way it ended. I began to read and took time to write my  second post, and it clearly shows an example of divine intervention.

My fifth shout, is The Playground, I enjoy this blog because it’s fun. She is friendly and always responds to her comments. She has a lot of quizzes, interesting facts, animals, and its an inviting blog. This post she posted not to long ago about Dr. Seuss was interesting, informative, and a bit of a spoiler on such a great writer, but without her fishing I never would have known. I suggest if you have not checked out her playground you go do so.

My Sixth shout is Harsh Reality, this is a short post. This post is ONE of my favorites Om. I’m a bit embarrassed to say why I like it as much as I do. I’m going to tell everyone, because you have taught me in your writing it’s okay to be myself on this platform, regardless of what others say. This post is short and sweet and made me feel like you were writing to me.

If  you would like to spread the love, post a link to a blog or a post you love, you would make my day.

In Loving Memory of Room 127

"Jack and another resident. Saying goodbye as she moved to another home.

“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.

 

 

 

 

Apartment number 38

Hi-ho-eighty-body

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.

 

 

A Day In The Shade

My brother Nathan and I

My brother Nathan and 

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grateful

My little boy has a head full of dark brown wavy hair. I keep it cut short, it looks like a fitted helmet on his head. His eyebrows are dark and bushy, his brown eyes droop with long thick curled up lashes that you can ring out when wet, his skin is light brown an as smooth as ice, he has tiny dimples, and a smile that look as if he is trying to push out further. He is a complete doll.

The past six months we have set a bedtime hour a bit earlier so we can do some activities. He has started looking forward to this time and so have we. We read stories, sing a few songs, count and pray.Tonight we asked him to tell us a story of his own the story went something like this: ” The Spider crawled up mommy’s arm (using his two little chubby fingers he steps them up my arm) the rain came down splashed out the spider up came the sun and the spider lost his legs and could not walk”

After his story my husband starts reading a book one of my boys favorite books. He goes straight into the book not reading the title. My little guy says silly dad you forgot to read “Chuck and Friends” and he takes my husband back to the cover of the book. We all laugh for different reasons it was a good family moment. It plays back in my mind as I write it out and feels my heart with joy so thankful and glad to tuck it away in my time capsule in hopes he does the same. We start our counting from one to twenty trying to reach a pre school milestone. He gets stuck on thirteen and sixteen but other than that he is doing well and enjoys learning. He has got his own little accent he does while counting and laughs at himself all the way to twenty.

Tonight he was more wound up than usual. I warned him that we would cut it short if he did not straighten up, and of course being four he blew it. We told him we loved him and we would try again tomorrow. He started screaming bloody murder and chanting count, count, count. He eventually fell asleep he was so worn out it wasn’t long. I turned off the television, sat down on the couch and reflected.

I put the pen to paper so one day he can read about this memory and what he means to me as well.

I love you and try to say it many times over in hopes the words embed into your soul. If anything was gained when I lost your brothers it would be the value of life. Most so yours my little guy. I feel as though I can embrace our moments and in my soul know what they’re worth, because I know what it is like to be empty. To come home from a hospital after giving birth and have nothing, nothing in my arms to hold, nothing in the crib to place my eyes on, no baby to put baby clothes on, and milk but no baby to feed. This is the best way for me to explain such a feeling, at the end of the night while you say your prayer. My eyes survey the room at the toys on the floor, pictures on the wall, a bed filled up, with your beautiful head of hair showing. I graze my hand over your head and tilt mine back and say Oh Lord Thank you for filling me up. To you we are so grateful.