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Writings about death, relationships, feelings, and time |
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Expressing my feelings about death, the death of family members and friends, life and life's impacts. I hope to write poems about coping with death, life, family and friends, and getting the best out of life. Every emotion and every thought comes from living. I hope to live through my writings. Hoping to reach out and meet others where they are in hopes that any one of the poems will bring solace on some level. |
| Every day I learn something new. If a day passes and I did not learn something new, I would feel that it was a day wasted or not well spent. Learning something new can be as simple as learning a new word or as exhausting as learning how to operate a new mechanical tool, but learn I must. Some people, friends, family, enemies, strangers, politicians, teachers, ministers and a host of other titles learn something new every day about living with chronic diseases. Many do not talk about it, while others can't keep quiet about them, and there are always those in between. I haven't often thought about any of them or even me until very recently when I read in a post about a son that required transfusions for an illness, I had never heard of, and had to go learn something about it. It got me to thinking, and made me look up the question "What is an illness called that will never go away?" For some of you, that is a simple question and a simple answer, chronic -- continuing a long time or recurring frequently. For me that was too simple. I have chronic bronchitis. Had it for years. Seasonal allergies. Have them year round. Diabetes. I've had that dreaded disease since I was sixty. So, a disease that is chronic has to be more. Suggested new definition. A disease that never ever goes away should be called a nemesis -- a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent. Some of the diseases that fall in this category is, of course, bronchitis. It wears you out. Beats you down, and almost takes your breath away. There are other diseases that are called chronic that takes away any quality of life, such as Alzheimer, Multiple sclerosis, Epilepsy, and Chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder, just to name a few. They are formidable opponents. They beat you down, and in the end take away all dignity, and quality of life. I watched this Alzheimer take a beautiful, energetic, sweet, and adorable woman down to a person I could no longer recognize except for her beautiful and wonderful sharp features. Nothing about this disease was chronic. It just kept on beating her, wearing on her, and tasking her until in the end, it was victorious. When she had nothing more to give, it took her life. Not only did this nemesis wear on her and task her, but it wore on the family, friends, and financial resources. It was not satisfied with just her life, it required her memories and many of ours. In the end, we were willing to let her go because of the suffering, and the loss. It is hard watching your Mother leave you in so many ways. Slowly and defiantly at first, and then slowly and tragically as she forgot our names, where she was, who she was, and why she was even here on this earth. Her nemesis, just would not stop. It reached out and tried to choke the life out of my youngest child, and later tied my Mother to a chair where she sat for a moment, forgot what she had done, tried to get up and walk, but fell and broke all of the ribs in her chest. She did not understand the pain. She did not know what had happened. She just did not know any more. How do you fight something like this? What do you do? How do you get grandchildren who adore, love and worship their grandmother to understand that grandmother has gone, and the shell left behind is only a memory? Her nemesis was having no part of that. It wanted to strip her of mind, soul and body, and it did! Thank God, her struggle was short. Her nemesis attacked her with a vengeance, and took her out within a few years. She never knew what hit her, but we all did, and it was not a pretty sight. It was not chronic -- continuing a long time or recurring frequently. It was a nemesis -- a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent. For those who are living with their nemesis or with someone who is living with their nemesis, remember, you are not alone even when you feel that you are. Thousands of people that you don't know are walking that road with you. If you are a person of faith, it is even better. For if you are a believer, God will not only walk with you, he will carry you, and them, and when the time comes, He will take them away on the wings of a dove. Death may be the end results of yours or their nemesis, but then isn't it (death) the end result of all of us with or without a nemesis? A very wise young daughter of mine once said, "Mother, people always say that you got to die from something. Well, I say, you will be surprised at what you may have to live with, so be careful how you live." Cherish the quality of life you have been given because we never know until we get there, the nemesis we may have to live with before we pass over or transition out of this life.  |
| Random Acts of Kindness There are days when I get up and start stirring around that I am moved to doing random acts of kindness. I just feel so good in my spirit that I want to share what has been given to me. It is not my job to worry about whether or not I should do it, or for whom I should do it. I just look for the opportunity to do it. Some days, I am blessed and I get to show random acts of kindness to several people. Other days, I only get to share with a few. Regardless of the number of people that I get to share with, I am always richly rewarded. The best random acts of kindness are those I do for complete strangers. They always believe that there is an ulterior motive for my random act of kindness. They need or accept it, and wait for the other shoe to fall. No shoe, and that is when you see the joy. When you feel the love, especially, if they were truly in need of the deed. Relatives and friends who know you are not as easily surprised. In fact, they are surprised when you do not do anything special for someone. The joy and the happiness that comes from just being nice is indescribably delicious! I offer the notion that you just might want to try this. Usually, it does not cost very much. A minute or two of your time here and there could change the life of someone going through. It could make the difference in a mother's life who's husband just died. Or even a friend, who just need someone to listen. What you do does need a price tag, just a touch and a moment of recognition. Random acts of kindness are good for the soul. |
| It's great to be Alive Waking up is magic. That first moment when you crawl out of the fog called sleep, begin to stir, and know that you have been given another day. It is just like magic. There is a glow. An awakening. Satisfaction and a whole lot more wrapped up in just waking up. First words today, were "Thank you Lord for yet another day." Maybe not a prayer, but a gratefulness so full of thanks that there just aren't any other words that could express my love and thankfulness to God for another opportunity to give back. God presents these opportunities every day, but we do not always take them. In fact, yesterday, I just wanted to lay around in my bed and do absolutely nothing, but opportunity knocked. Yesterday was also a fantastic day. I drug myself out of bed with less than a half an enthusiasm. In fact, I thought I would just stay in bed all day long. Then my son called and said "Old lady, what are you doing today?" I said nothing much. I will probably stay in bed all day. He laughed and said, "Why don't you get up and come out and support the YWCA today." They are having a cookout, and lots of activities for the kids. I will be the DJ." Laughing out loud, I said, I guess I am really going to stay in my bed now. He said just before hanging up, "It is 8:30am. The affair starts at 10:00am and ends at 2:00pm. Hope to see you there." With no intentions of going, I got up, made my morning stop to the bathroom, checked the clock, and walked back into the kitchen and saw the mail on the kitchen counter. I immediately recognized the envelope from the State, and a big smile lit up my face. Oh my gosh, I got a refund! Oh my gosh, I got a check. Money. Money. Thank you Lord, I got some money today. I'm up. I'm on it, got to get to the bank. Called one of my daughters and said I will be over very shortly. I have a present for you. Called my grandson, and did the same. Called my daughter in North Carolina, but got no answer. A dent in my joy, but not a prolonged drawn out one. I would call her later. Off to the bank. Got the check cashed, and kept on driving over to my daughter's. She was home and I presented her with an envelope from the bank. The smile on her face made my day. I was so thankful and so happy that I could do something for her today, and her smile made it all worth it. Besides, I got to see my granddaughter and my great-grandson, who ended up climbing in the car with me to spend the weekend. Together, my great-grandson and I went to the YWCA, and he had an awesome time with his cousins and the other children running and playing and just being children. I had a wonderful time as my son proudly announced that his Mother had arrived, and everyone made me feel so welcome and so happy that I had come. All an all yesterday was a great day, but not like this morning when I climbed out of bed with nothing on my mind but giving thanks to God for just another day. Have you ever thought about the gift of waking up, clothed in your right mind, breathing fresh air, getting out of bed, walking to the bathroom, looking out the window, seeing the birds and trees in full bloom, and just knowing that it could have been the other way. I am so grateful for each day God gives me, but today is special for I know that He still loves me enough to give me another opportunity to be a blessing to someone else. Have a blessed and wonderful day. Watch out for me, I just might be on my way to your neighborhood! |
| I am not a writer, not in the sense of a writer like Robert Frost who wrote poems that always took my breath away. Nor am I a writer like Richard Wright, who made see and feel his pain in slave driven society. I can only wish to ever write like James Baldwin, and write a book like the “The Fire Next Time.” But believe me, I am a writer. I have mastered the art of putting my thoughts on paper, and have even managed to write a few papers, stories, poems, and articles that have brought tears to the eyes of a few. Yet, I keep feeling inadequate and unworthy to call myself an author or a writer because I haven’t yet measured up to some of the greats that have set the standards for writing over the centuries. I pondered this question most of the day as I worked on budgets, and speeches, and painting and a dozen other things that had to get done, and finally around 6:23pm, it hit me. I don’t feel like an author or a writer because I want to write like everybody else. I want to write a best seller like Sidney Sheldon, Robert Ludlum, and a host of others that have influenced me over the years. But that is not what I write or how I write. I write to empty my head; to offer advice; to clarify a feeling; or, to state an opinion; or even to poke fun at myself. How I do this is not in a book and cannot be gleaned from someone else. Of course, the grammar should be good, the spelling checked, and for the most part in good taste if put out there for others to read. The words are mine and when they run out of my mind, they don’t usually ask “Is this how Maya Angelou would write this poem?” Instead, my mind usually wants to know if I am finished, did you say what you wanted to say like you wanted to say it. When you write you, your feelings and emotions will show. Sometimes, when I am finished, I have to ask “Where did all of that come from?” That is okay. It is what it is, and some people will find it interesting and good, while others will simply walk on by. That is also okay. What you write is you. It is where you are coming from. Your dreams, fears, hopes, disappointments, love story, mindset, whatever, it is you! Even the fantasies, the dark tales, the flash fictions, the free verses, limericks, and even Haikus. How you say it, is not as important to me as it is for you to say it. If you write, try to proofread it. Get help. There are lots of writing tools out there. Invest in one or use some of the free ones. When you know better, then you can do better. No one wants to read glaring mistakes that could easily be avoided with spell check or just a cursory review. Being mindful that spelling check usually only check for mis-spelled words, try (and I do mean try) to make sure that the words mean what you intended. Sometimes in my heat of emptying my brain, words will sound the same as I write and read them. Usually someone else reading it will catch the word, e.g., creak or creek, know or no,, etc. As a writer, I know the difference between your and you’re, but in today’s world these common errors can even be found in our newspapers, social media, and many other places. Try not to fall into these small traps. They take away from your work. However, be prepared for that hypersensitive person to see one of these and disregard everything else that you have written. Do not let this deflate your ego or your will to write. Go back and fix it. That does not change your writing style. It identifies a glaring error that you missed. Okay, you are human, and it is not the end of the world. We all come from different parts of the world, different cultures, and are use to using different dialects. It comes through in our writing style. Some words are spelled exactly the same, but pronounced differently, depending on your accent or word use in your culture. If you are writing a poem and trying to rhyme, it may not rhyme to someone else because they pronounce the word differently. Is it what you wanted to say, and can you live with it? Sometimes you can, and sometimes you can’t. Be open to suggestions, but be sure it is what you wanted to say. Just don’t overload your writing with clichés and non-original sayings. You want your message to come through. What am I saying in all of this? Just that it is very important that you resist the urge to write like everyone else. It takes away your uniqueness, and makes you mediocre. You should consider others, in your writing, if that is why you write or what you want to do, but then you give up your freedom to create, and writing is about creating, telling your story. Your writing style will eventually take on its own style, and will attract readers of like minds, but no matter what, your writings will speak for you, and that is why you write. These are just my thoughts, and I am a work in progress. |
| My favorite word of all times is WOW! You just hit a WOW on my environmental radar! I feel your pain. I don't think I can imagine the agony of watching the bulldozers, saws, and other large equipment invade my space and my solitude. Somewhere we must say enough is enough. When will we have enough Wal Marts, CVS' Walgreens, and look alike house where we plant trees from everywhere, but the native species that were there before we invaded. WHERE oh where will the rabbits, deer, chipmunks, and other native wild life go? How do we take something so beautiful and turn it into a concrete jungle? Feeling your pain. I hear a tree crying in the forest -- all of my other trees are gone Listen up, can you hear a deer walking carefully through the forest -- she can't find her baby Wait, don't knock that clump of trees down -- that's my home and my babies are there Hold that ax, if you don't mind, the woodpecker just built it home in that tree Stop scooping up all of those leaves and that straw, the earth is regenerating and I am a part of it Look at me, you need me more for your survival than a part of your next building or furniture Help me. Save me. I am the forest, I am your future. |
| Looking out my window, I have the pleasure of watching the sun rise every single day, and today it is brighter than ever! With my eye condition, (AMD), I have learned to take in all of the beauty that I can find. Even though I have always loved trees, skies, sunrises, sunsets, the ocean, birds, and all the other beauties found in nature, they seem to be more beautiful now that there is a possibility that I will eventually go blind. You do not think about how the loss of your sight will deny you the pleasure of the most simple things, things that you have always taken for granted. Two years ago, I was devastated at the news of possibly losing my sight, and I cried and cried some more until one day, I asked "why are you wasting all this time crying when you could really be seeing?" From that day forward, I have not cried once about the "possible" loss of my sight. I am spending my time seeing. Seeing the bird that comes to chirp on my back porch railing. Watching Foxy Grey chase them across the yard. Hearing the birds chirp and chatter one to the other about what's going on. Hearing the crickets in my bathroom and watching them jump. Appreciating the buds on the trees that are slowly turning into leaves, and once bare trees full of flowers and leaves and birds. What a wonderful world! Seeing with the mind's eye is just as important as seeing with the natural eye. Capturing the beauty around us is important to the soul and our connection to the world. Until you face your vulnerability, you don't quite appreciate what you already have, and that is why we push aside our simple lives to make and build our false glamour as if we can improve on what God has already given us. Seeing a sunrise or sunset is one of the most beautiful fleeting moments on earth. A glimpse of colors that can only be imitated on canvas, but held in the mind for years to come. Watching a red-breast robin sit proudly on the grass plucking away at a worm that just won't give in to become the Robin's meal is a cycle in motion that the eye sees, but the soul understands the struggle between the two. Sharing your life with a cat that is aging with you and watching the changes occur also shows up in your vision as part of life's every changing cycle that is seen by the eye as well as the mind's eye. Both making conclusions that provide you with information that you needed no time to think about or digest. It is what it is real sight that will probably last long after my eye sight is long gone. Can real sight be found in memories? |
| Today, I was very pleasantly surprised to have someone on Writing.com check in with me to see, if I was okay and to wish me a speedy recovery with my eyes. I was very surprised at how much that meant to me even though I have been told by at least two of my children that I only write on a regular basis because someone "may be" reading what I am writing. That may be true, but then, I have written for years and kept most of what I have written buried. So, maybe having someone reading it now has emboldened me, but it has not increased my need or lessened my need to write. Through the pain in my eye, I was able to laugh and really appreciate the shout out, and later the second response when I expressed how much the shout out had meant to me. The human mind really does not need a lot to make it feel good, to rejoice and to live, but it needs that little moment of kindness! Connieann, you made my day, and I am glad to have you as a friend on WDC. Thank you for a little bit of kindness this morning. |
| Easter, The Celebration of Pain and Suffering This is the season when Christians celebrate the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is celebrated with joy and reflections by many, but there are a few, and I am one of the few, that sees this time as Jesus Christ suffering, in pain, and paying the price for my sins. No, I don't see Him dying every day. I do not see Him still nailed to the cross. I see him as having risen, and conquering death, but at what price. Would I die for mankind? Would I? Would I take on all of the hatred, jealousy, disgust, and corruption of this world just to give mankind a chance at eternal life? I can't even imagine what Jesus went through as He submitted Himself to the will of His Father, to take on all of the sins of this world, allow Himself to be captured, beaten, spit upon, nailed to a cross, hung up in public view amongst a jeering and riotous crowd, and allowed to die in public humiliation. |
| I have neglected my ennead of letting go's the past week, but today, I am picking them up with "Letting Go of Things." On a number of occasions I have caught a television show about hoarders. I will not say that I am a hoarder of major proportion, but in some ways, I am a hoarder. I am so good that my daughter once said, if you need something and can't find it anywhere else, go to moms. My son does his shopping at my house first, and then goes to the story when and if he can't find what he is looking for in my house. So, I've got stuff. Like the hoarders on television, most items are in good shape and usable. No, my hoarding has not reduced my little house to paths throughout. Yes you can see all of my floors, and walk on them. I also make donations to goodwill, salvation army, and other worthy causes. My problem is that some many years ago, I stopped making annual donations of clothes, shoes, and other items that the children and I had outgrown or no longer use. I also do not throw away equipment and parts that I have replaced with the latest model or newer model. In my heart of heart, I know that I should, but I also know that someone in the family sooner or later is going to want or need it. So, I save it. With this new me that I am trying got develop, I have got to reduce my collection significantly. I have promised for five years that I was going to host and hold a yard sale. To make sure that I don't ever get it done, I think big. Make it a block yard sale you will get more people. Oh, not just the block, how about sponsoring a City-wide yard sale. You guessed, too big to organize and not enough time to do it. So, it never gets done, and all of my great items are just getting older and older, and more and more out of date. Since, I am so good at holding onto things, I made a deal with me. I will get rid of one bag of something every month. One week closes, one week shoes, one week pots and pans, so on and so on. It is working. I have a lot to go, but someone out there is beginning to get some of those items that I have not used for more than five years. I am almost ashamed to say that some of the shoes and clothes have ended up in the trash because over the years they have actually dry rotted. What a waste. I did not continue using them, and now no one else will. This has provided me with a very good lesson. Waste not. Want not. God has given me much, and I have not been a good steward. My goal is to become a much better steward in the future and increase my donations to those most in need. I am GOING TO GET that YARD SALE done this summer. I will be letting go of things. |
| The Pain of Our Children I am always amazed at what we as adults put our children through. No, I am not talking about adult children who can fend for themselves, but young children under the age of 18. Those most vulnerable. We say with our mouths how much we love them, and I guess we really do as long as things are going good, but the moment the road gets rugged or dark, the children become the first disposal item. We use them to fight the significant other or spouse in court. We use them to cover up abuse. We use them to get even with the other person. We deny them. We force them to become wards of the state. We destroy their self-confidence and wonder why they are so stupid or look like their dad or their mom. We push them away. We try to turn them against the other person. We behave with all the spite, hatred, meanness, and deceit we can muster. The object of our previous affection, "makes" us act with deadly accuracy against the most vulnerable, our children. WHY? I contend that in many cases, children are just pawns. He who gets the children get the prize (not the children, but the prize), and now "I am in control!" "I will show you." Society should not allow this, but we do. Then we wonder why so many children grow up to be adults who repeat the exact same behavior and display it so many different ways, e.g., cutting themselves, molesting their children, becoming prostitutes, and much much worse. America, justice should not be based on who can afford the biggest, baddest, meanest lawyer. Usually, mothers cannot afford lawyers, and therefore, destined to lose in court. He (the male) almost always controls the money, the health insurance, the better job, and everything else. Although he has spent little or no time with the children, (can't tell you their birthday, their ages, the grades they are in, their strong points, their weaknesses, beyond their names), he gets them. The courts walk away, but not blameless! The courts in America are responsible for much of the ills in our society. They and the unscrupulous lawyers who learn how to work the system, and are hell bent on winning, not justice just rack up the wins and get to become judges or the larger law firms in the country. When I studied law, I was told, and I learned that law is situational. What is upheld in Georgia, may be denied in Florida. What is the law today, may not be law tomorrow. The laws may not also be enforced. If they were, America would need any more civil rights acts. If they were fairly and justly enforced, the quality of life in America would increase dramatically. Children would stand a chance. Unfortunately, "our most valuable resource, our children" isn't really that valuable. Even when they are in the states care, horrible things happen to them. Everybody knows, but no one does anything. The answer has been and continue to be "NO MONEY." However, there is money to go to the moon, money to fight several wars at one time in other people's country, money to dump in warehouses from over buying of supplies and equipment, money for cancer research that would be unnecessary if we stopped the sale of cigarettes and adding steroids to food along with other synthetics that cannot be absorbed by the body or classed by the liver or kidneys. This Country has money for everything, but the full protection of our children. If you haven't been a good father for the past ten years, you are not likely to become a good father tomorrow because the courts were dumb enough or stupid enough to award you your children. The same is true for mothers, but more often than not, it's the father who has turned over all of the child rearing to the mother because "he is the bread winner." NOT! Most mothers work and contribute to the family's income in addition to washing the clothes, handling the shopping, cooking the meals, going to the schools, attending PTA, driving the children to events, teaching them right from wrong, and responsibility. Good mothers should probably give their children to those sorry ass fathers and run the other way, but they want unless ordered to do so by the courts! The courts that turn a blind eye to all truth. That dumb b_ _ _ _ Justice should take her blindfold off and see truth, experience reality, and walk in the light of day where real people live every day! |
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My condolences.
K.
. I feel your pain. My Jim will be gone two years on July 19th. Sometimes it feels like yesterday and other times it feels like a hundred years ago. Almost immediately after Jim passed I quit eating meat...don't ask me why, I don't know. The human brain is so complicated. I think maybe it was something else for me to focus on, new recipes, new ways to get protein, something I thought I was doing that was good for me. I continue to be vegetarian and somehow it has helped sustain me. God bless... 