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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/904740
Rated: 18+ · Book · Biographical · #1960296
The history of Prosperous Snow written for the group Reminiscences
#904740 added February 15, 2017 at 6:24pm
Restrictions: None
NaNoWriMo Day 24: Thanksgiving Day (WC:1909)
Istijlál (Majesty), 3 Qawl (Speech), 173 BE - Thursday, November 24, 2016 AD about 9:00 AM Pacific Standard Time

Thanksgiving Day:
The Blog City prompt -
What are your favorite Thanksgiving foods? Do you cook your own or do you like when someone else cooks them?

What are my favorite Thanksgiving foods? Pumpkin pie with whipped cream, the turkey drumstick or thigh, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes and gravy, and coffee. I also like creamed spinach and creamed peas, while green beans or carrots are next on the list.

Do I cook my own or do I like to have someone else cook them? I prefer someone else to cook most of the dinner. I will make something or purchase a pie. I usually purchase a pie of some type if I'm going to someone else's house to eat.

Thanksgiving Day:
The 30-Day Blogging Challenge Prompt -
Did you have an after Thanksgiving or Black Friday tradition when you were a child?

Did my family have an after Thanksgiving or Black Friday tradition when I was a child? When I was a child Black Friday wasn't as big a deal as it is today. On the Friday after Thanksgiving was the day Christmas decorations begin to go up. Grandpa would purchase the Christmas tree on Friday and then we would spend the rest of the weekend decorating it. Once the tree was decorated then we would spend the rest of the weekend admiring it or going shopping. The next weekend Grandpa would take us around town to look at the Christmas lights. While he didn't decorate the outside of the house other people in Blackwell did, so we would drive around oohing and awing at the lights on the house or the Christmas trees showing through the front room windows.

Thanksgiving Day:
Thanksgiving Memories I'm Grateful For

I'm grateful for the memories that come on Thanksgiving. One of those memories was Thanksgiving 2012, which was Mama's last Thanksgiving on this material plain. We didn't have a big Thanksgiving because I had to cook for just the two of us. I fixed Stove Top with turkey gravy from a and a Marie Calender's pumpkin pie with Cool Whip. Mom always liked to put Cool Whip on her pumpkin pie so that's what we ate. I also think we had some sort of meat, probably fowl of some type. Maybe sliced turkey or a turkey burger. Mom wasn't up to eating much.

We ate our Thanksgiving lunch while we watched the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, one of Mom's favorite activities on Thanksgiving. Mom ate some of the dressing with gravy and then she ate her pumpkin pie with a cup of coffee. Mama always drink black coffee when she at pie, in fact Mom normally drink her coffee black. One week after Thanksgiving, on November 29, she died.

About 1:16 PM Pacific Standard Time

This morning, I did a good job of writing. I don't know how many words I wrote, but I think it must have been less than 500 words. I responded to two blog prompts and made an entry in one of my Poet 999 blogs. Then this afternoon I did several reviews on writing.com. The last item I reviewed was an article about writing which ask the question "Why do I write?" I've decided to answer this question this afternoon.

Thanksgiving Day:
Why do I write?

Why do I write? I write because I can. I write because I have something to say about my life and the world around me. I write because I'm pushed to write. I'm pushed to write because it's one of the ways that I heal from the terror of sexual abuse I experiences as a preteen and teenager. I write because it's the only way I know how to heal myself. I have to write about my experiences even thought I'm afraid to write about them.

Why do I write? I write because I have to write in order to heal. I write because it's the only way I can heal because it doesn't do any good to take to my family about the way I feel. At least, I don't think it does any good because everytime I've brought up the subject with my sister she accuses me of being a lier. I know she doesn't want to discuss it or even admit that it happened so I can't talk to her about it. I never talked to Mom about it because I didn't want her to feel bad.

Why do I write? I write because I have to write. I write because it's one way I can show my love for Baha'u'llah by helping to heal myself. I write because I can write poems. I write because I can write stories. I do have problems with grammar and other technical issues, but that is something I can deal with.

Why do I write? I write because I'm afraid to write. I'm afraid I don't have the talent even though I know I have the talent because people tell me I have the talent. My inner critic tells me I don't have the talent and the only way I know how to shut it up is to write. When I write I can't hear my inner critic criticizing me. When I write I don't want to fantasize. I can't fantasize when I write because my mind won't let me fantasize and write at the same time.

Thanksgiving Day:
About my False Teeth

For some reason I have the urge to write about my false teeth. It isn't fun having false teeth, at least most of the time. I have difficulty eating some items and I don't think I'm chewing my food very will, but there isn't much I can do about it because I'm the one who didn't take care of her teeth when she was young. I suspect part of the reason had to do with the sexual abuse I experienced because before that I was good about brushing my teeth.

My false teeth feel weird in my mouth. They don't feel as if they belong there which is probably true because they fit differently than my natural teeth did. I've had a low self esteem for years. I feel as if I don't deserve the good that comes my way. I'm not sure what that has to do with my false teeth, but apparently it does. I'm attempting not to think as I write this because thinking gets in the way of free writing and I'm attempting to free write.

My dentures feel as if they are aliens. My upper denture fits all right, but my lower denture doesn't. I don't use denture adhesive of any type any more. I used to denture adhesive, but the type from the tube is just goss. It doesn't want to come off my gums and dentures when I take them out of my mouth. I can't use that type of adhesive on my lower denture plate because it doesn't do any good to hold the dentures in. I have to reapply it to my lower dentures when it comes off and I think that I might swallow some of the goop, so there's not what damage it may do to my health or what side effects it may have.

I prefer to use the Sea Bond dental adhesive because it comes in little paper like wafers that fit my dentures and hold them in without the goop. The wafers for the lower plate have to be reapplied several times a day so they're expensive. With these wafers I can feel if it comes away or I begin losing it so that I can find a discrete way to handle it when I'm out of the house. I really need to get some for Sea Bond and attempt to use it anyway. I know that I can chew better with it holding my dentures in. In addition I don't get as many food particles under my dentures.

Thanksgiving Day:
Letter to Mom

Dear Mama,

It's Thanksgiving afternoon and I miss you so much. I was just thinking how much you enjoyed watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, which I don't watch anymore. I'm not sure why I don't watch it. It could be that there are too many memories connected with the parade. Even in your last year of life you smiled when you saw the floats. Another parade you liked to watch was the Rose Parade. Perhaps I can get up the nerve to watch that parade on January 2, 2017.

I think they are scheduling the parade and the Tournament of Roses on January 2 because January 1 is on a Sunday. I'll have to check and find out why. I know those events are usually held on January 1. I just did a Bing search and found out that the Tournament of Roses and the Rose parade have a "Never on Sunday". Apparently this has to do with the 1893 paradise which would have been on Sunday, but the didn't want to frighten the horses which were tied out in front of churches.

I don't think I've watched the Rose Parade since you died in 2012. Maybe it's about time I got back into the habit of watching that parade. I know you always liked watching it while we were eating lunch or drinking coffee.

Mom, I miss you so much. I miss you more every year. I know that I still have something to accomplish on this earth, but I don't know what. Maybe it's just to tell other people about Baha'u'llah or about the devastation of Alzheimer's disease. There are so many things I'd like to do, but I don't know if I will be able to do them.

Mom, I'm 69 years old. When people ask me how old I am, I tell them 69 years young. The truth is I'm an old woman. Faye says I need to face that fact. I need to understand that I'm not getting any younger. I don't like taking money from Faye for anything. I suspect she's only going to get more insistent on this subject.

Mom, I'm afraid. I'm afraid, but I don't know what I'm afraid of. Maybe I'm afraid because I'm over thinking the entire situation. I need to put everything in God's hands and just get on with what I have to do or want to do. I have to stop focusing on the fear and the situation between Faye and myself. Our relationship isn't going to get any better. I'm better off not living in the same house with her. I should have know it was a bad idea to sign that lease with her, but if I hadn't de would never have moved in with me and I think De is good for my spiritual growth.

I'm sure it was God's will that De move in with me. I know I need to get up and walk more than I do, but I think I don't do it out of fear. I've let fear rule my life for so long that I allow it to without even thinking about it. I put things in God's hands and then I fall back into my old mode of thinking. I pray I can put a stop to that in this coming year.

Your Daughter,
N.F. Darbe AKA Prosperpous Snow
© Copyright 2017 Prosperous Snow celebrating (UN: nfdarbe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/904740