Tonight as I was tucking Al in for bed he said he wanted to leave me something to remember him by. He told me to go get my camera and take a picture of him and me so I could have this to hang on to. I knew it would not turn out as well with me holding the camera but he said it had to be done tonight. Here is his gift to me.
Today I escaped the house for an hour. I had to go to the Pharmacy and pick up a new medication for Al. Lyrica, the doctor is hoping it will help his pain while his body contracts into a smaller body.
I went by my old elementary school on my way home. I don’t know why I revisit places like this. Maybe I am yearning for my free youth. Maybe I enjoy the memories. I stopped in front of the school and had a chuckle.
It was recess time. Remember those recess times? Freedom from studying, being quiet and listening to the teacher talk on and on and on? A time to forget the world and frolic and play.
I can remember catching grasshoppers in the back yard of the school. I remember playing tether ball. I really liked that game. A ball on a rope and a single pole. Playing it with another student trying my best to get it to go around past until I scored a win.
Playing chalk hop scotch and jump rope. Even as I sit here writing I look at my life now and back then and I would have never dreamed that it was going to play out like it is. Here I am caring for my brother. I have done a lot with my life and yet nothing that anyone will remember.
I sat in my car just smiling and then it dawned on me the weather. It has been very warm for December here lately but that all changed this afternoon. Now we are in the thirties and we are going to only be in the high of twenties for a few days.
But when I was at the school it was still forty something outside. I watched the kids as they ran and played and part of me envied their free spirit. The innocence of a child not having to worry about sick people, or bills or how they are going to eat.
Then I looked down at myself. I laughed out loud. I had a sweatshirt and sweatpants on. The heater was on in the car. All my windows were rolled up. The oldies station was being heard on the radio.
As I enjoyed watching these young people I saw that their clothing was quite different from mine. Some had shorts on and sweatshirts. Others had jeans and jackets wrapped around their waist. Some had jackets that were unzipped and flying in the breeze.
I laughed so hard when I realized I was or am becoming my parents and grandparents. I used to laugh at my family because in the fall I was wearing my shorts and Mom was saying she was so cold.
Where does the time go and how does it slide so quickly without us realizing it? In my mind I am still young. There are more and more days that my body reminds me that on my birthday I will be that big scary number 60.
I watched them for a bit longer and then started the car. I turned my fifties music up. It was Elvis Presley singing Rubberneckin. I had revisited my youth, picked up medications for a very ill brother, and noticed time had been ticking all these years. I was definitely becoming my Mother.
Warm like Mommy’s arms
Soft like Grandma’s lap
I look at you and I feel love
I feel safe when I’m with you.
Will you be my friend?
In times I want to cry?
When I feel so all alone?
When I think no one understands?
Will you play with me
Will you follow me where I go?
Will you be my best friend?
For today I do not feel good
Mommy and Daddy are in heaven
And I feel all alone
Please say you’ll stay
You remind me so much
Of how good life used to be
Today, I need a friend.
The streets were baron. It was below freezing in temperatures. Snow flakes turned his brown beard into the resemblance of Santa Claus. An empty shadow followed him with each footstep he took.
Ricky was headed toward the park. This is where most folks went when they didn’t have a home to go to. It was a bad snow storm and visibility was difficult with the constant flakes hitting his eye lashes.
He had a view of glowing embers. Shadows standing around drums with flames bouncing wildly giving heat to anyone daring to get close enough. A little extra walking time and soon he was intertwined with others who recognized him and waved to him with tattered gloves and ragged coats.
This group of people were known to the town as the homeless. The people too lazy to get a job, the ones considered drifters and bag people. People cast off smiles and friendly gestures. Turning their faces a way not wanting to confront to know the truth.
When Ricky got his fingers warmed and his toes thawed, he went to his secret place and pulled out his easel and his bag of brushes. He went to the one place where his paints were hidden and kept safe.
He had made friends with some of the homeless and was lucky enough to keep his supplies in one person’s tent. He set up his canvas and he painted. Ricky had always had a hidden talent for art.
No one really paid much attention to him or his work. Ricky didn’t peddle on the streets like some did. He was too proud to beg for money for any reason. He stayed in the shadows and drew images in his mind of people and animals. Beauty of foliage was what he liked best to look at.
He took his memories and transformed them to his board. Using his brushes he revisited his view to canvas or paper. He scoured trash bins and any place that he could find something to paint on.
He went to the dumpsters behind paint and hobby stores and rummaged looking for supplies. After doing this several times he had managed to tuck a tidy kit for himself.
As he stood painting others drew near and watched. Fingers pointed at spots that stood out. Words of encouragement were given. Each painting that he finished he gifted to one of his friends.
Tonight was no different. The scenario was the same but the art was different. A lovely vision of snow falling on the streets of this small town was transformed into what the people watching thought to be his best work yet.
When Ricky finished, one of the guys asked for the painting, instead of waiting to see who he was going to pass it to. Ricky handed it to him and began to clean up his area. He put everything back in its place.
He came back and stood around the fire. The guy who took his painting brought him a cup of steaming hot coffee. ” You know, your work is really good. You shouldn’t keep it hidden for only our eyes to see. You should show it around, let someone pay you for this.”
” Maybe some day I will, but I got to get cleaned up first. You know presentable. No one wants to stand around the likes of me.” Silence fell around the drum as everyone who was listening knew there was some truth to what Ricky said.
Night after night the same happened. Tonight was Christmas though. Some of these folks had pings of pain in their hearts as they relived memories of what their lives had been once before. In the near distance sounds of Christmas songs could be heard from some of the fellows.
There are all types of reasons for being homeless. It isn’t just because people are lazy. Sometimes luck just isn’t on our side. Or an illness comes and wipes out all of our dreams.
This was the case for Ricky. He had worked at one time in a small factory. Only about ten employees. But one day things got tough and the business had shut down. Ricky learned quickly that his careless ways of not saving money wasn’t going to save him now.
It didn’t take long at all for Ricky to get to know this group of people. Every one had a story to tell. Most would do what it took to change things but there had to be a beginning, a place to start, and this was the biggest challenge, but some did make it. They were able to leave the circle and move forward once again.
For Ricky he dreamed. He dreamed and painted, but was too shy to spread his talent. All he knew how to do was follow orders. All he thought he had to offer was the work he turned over to his boss. In return he got a small check, big enough to tide him over until the next pay-day.
About a week later after that guy took Ricky’s painting, he walked towards Ricky when he saw him coming near the barrels. He pulled on his coat and motioned for him to follow him to a more private spot to talk.
” Ricky, I hope you don’t mind, but I showed your painting to a man who is a friend of a friend of one of the guys here. He really liked it and he wanted me to get a hold of you and ask you if you could come see him.”
” Oh I couldn’t do that. Look at me, look at the way I look. No one wants to talk to a bum. I would need a bath and some clean clothes.” The other man listened to him and then walked a way.
The next evening came and as the group were warming themselves the same guy came and pulled on Ricky’s coat. ” Come with me.” Ricky didn’t really know what to think but he did trust this guy, so he followed. A couple of other fellows fell in line and the small group of them walked back into the residential area.
The walked up to the front door and Ricky stopped, asking, ” What are we doing here man? I don’t know anyone who lives here and I am not about to start breaking into homes.”
” Take it easy Ricky. We aren’t here to hurt you. We are here to help you. Now trust me, you always say you trust me, so do it now.” Ricky looked into the guys eyes and didn’t feel any fear rising inside. He allowed the guy to ring the doorbell and when it opened he looked into the eyes of a warm glow and a smiling face. Welcoming the trio into his home he led them to an office.
Once inside the office a barber appeared with scissors, and a grooming kit. He led Ricky to a chair and before long Ricky was transformed from a scary looking fellow to a face of nice brown eyes and a square jaw line.
After this task was completed the gentleman who let them in his home took Ricky to another room where on the bed lay a couple of outfits. Nothing special, just some jeans and flannel shirts, shoes and clean socks.
” I took the liberty of getting a couple of different sizes here according to what your friend here has told me. Take these and go in the bathroom and try them on. Which ever one fits you best you can have.”
Tears welled in Ricky’s eyes. He hadn’t been shown this kind of kindness in so long. Without saying a word he did as he was instructed and soon came out. He didn’t look like the same man who entered.
The guys all smiled and patted each other on the back for jobs well done. ” Meet the guy Ricky. Don’t be afraid of fear. You have let fear take over your life way too long.” Ricky hugged the guy and they were all escorted to the front door.
Walking back to the circle of lights whistles were heard as people were letting Ricky know they approved. Ricky went to the tent and took off these nice clothes and slipped into his comfort zone.
In two days a meeting had been set up between Ricky and the man who liked his paintings. Ricky carefully put the new clothes back on and cleaned himself up good as he could. The meeting was in half an hour. There weren’t many people here to see him off as it was daylight. Most were out scrounging for supplies for that night. But the ones who were here wished him good luck.
Ricky knocked on the big wooden door and it was opened by a professional looking gentleman. He grasped Ricky’s hand in a firm handshake and motioned for him to sit down. He offered Ricky a cup of coffee and then went straight to the point of this meeting.
” I like your work Ricky. Your friend was nice enough to bring some other pieces that you had given to people here for me to view. You shouldn’t be giving this kind of talent a way my friend. You should be paid for such great work. What do you think about working for me? You see behind that door over there, leads to a store front that holds different pieces of art for sale. I would like to place yours right up front. I have no doubt you and I can make some good money. Get your name around, get you off the streets, make you famous. I live upstairs in this building and I can have an extra small bed brought in for you. I think you have great talent and I want to help you get it out there. Will you let me help you Ricky?”
Ricky once again felt hot tears fill his eyes. He didn’t know what to say, he sat there speechless. His dream, the recurring visions of being a known artist were staring him right in the face.
The guy stood up and came over and pulled Ricky to his feet. The two looked at each other and the guy hugged Ricky. ” It’s going to be alright. You deserve this. Let’s get your stuff here and get to work. I will get that bed called in.”
Ricky stood back and shook the guys hands. All he could manage to get out of his mouth was thank-you, thank-you. Thank-you for helping me.”
” It’s alright Ricky. All of us need a little luck on our side, even I did one day.”
You beat me
When I was down
Me to the ground
But now I
Am a man
On two feet
On solid ground
I ain’t gonna take
Whip me again
For you see
That mountain over there?
It has my name on it
And I am going to
Climb it to the top
Open my lungs
This is all mine
And I’m gonna
Place a stake
On it right now.
Write the About page for your blog in 10 years.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us FUTURE.
Oh boy this will be fun. A chance to let my hair down and dream a way. Besides, who knows? In ten years this dream or part of it could come true.
About Page For Terry1954.wordpress.com
I have been blogging for twelve years. In this time frame I have learned about myself. I have healed so many problems that I carried for ever. I cared for my brother for several years.
While he is now in heaven, I have no doubt that he is saving a spot for me right beside him just like he promised. When I look to the heavens I can feel his smile as he is running and playing with absolutely no more pain.
It took me quite a while to adjust to not having him around. I filled my hours with writing even more. I reached out and tried new avenues adding a variety of thoughts to my posts.
I became much more friendly with my camera and built my own web page filled with all the wonder that I saw.
During the time of these past several years, I published the one book I had started way back. I have another almost ready for publication. It is a book of all my poetry.
I published on Amazon and was amazed at how quickly my book took off. Oh believe me I never became wealthy over it, but I was asked to speak at a few places about how my book came about.
I moved from the icy, snowy weather of Indiana. I am now living a little further south where the sun shines warmer, making my personality shine brighter. During a quick visit to a local restaurant I must have spotted the eye of a handsome man.
When I got ready to get in my car I noticed a sticky note attached to my windshield. It offered his phone number and told me what car he drove. It even said he was waiting for me outside his own car.
That sticky note brought the man who I had hoped and dreamed of for so long together. We have just celebrated our fist anniversary of marriage. He is just perfect for me. He doesn’t crowd me. He allows me to be myself and he doesn’t expect me to entertain him every second he is home. We love each other, we do our own thing, and at the end of the day we come together and talk about what we did. I am so happy.
So in ten years life did work out, just as God knew it would. I worried too much about everything. He had it all worked out. Now if you want to follow along and see what else life brings my way, just click on the follow button. Thanks for taking the time to stop and read my About page. Hugs.
Alyson Sheldrake has nominated me for the Blog of the Year 2013.
I was so honored last year when I won this very nice award. Excitement filled me to win any type of award for my writing.
When I started writing a year and a half ago, it was because God told me to. I had never written anything other than petty marks on my private note pads.
Even today I am humbled and honored to receive this award once again. I have made so many friends. I never in my wildest dream thought Jesus would ever bless me with loving friends who take the time to read my thoughts.
So many of you have been put through repeated stories of my woes of my brother’s illness. There have been those this past year who have asked me to try to write a book. I am still waiting but I do know that it is in the publishing department and to be out by Christmas.
I will feel like the biggest gift I could ever leave my three children is a part of my thoughts. Something for them to go back to and look through once God has taken me home.
Some of you have asked me to test the waters in writing poetry. I have learned that I really enjoy this part of writing. I have played around with my writing, adding music to it, changing the words of the original song to how I am feeling that day.
I have been able to start a music page and a quote page. I have done quite a bit of healing through my writing. God knew that I would be a better woman by writing and he has never led me a stray.
Thank-you God and thank you friends for allowing me to be myself here at WordPress.
Thank-you again Alyson!
Write a script for a late-night infomercial — where the product is your blog. How do you market yourself? What qualities do you embody that other “products” don’t? What are the benefits of reading your blog?
Photographers, artists, poets: show us LATE.
Are you feeling blue, alone and sometime misunderstood? Do you need someone who cares to listen? Do you enjoy reading about real life stories? Do you want the truth instead of iced lies?
Well come visit my blog. Here you will read heart-felt stories. You will find out that you are not alone in your feelings. Do you think your messed up family is the only one out there? Here you will discover that there are many families with internal problems.
Do you know someone who suffers a chronic illness? Here you will see my daily walk caring for a family member.
What about poetry? Do you like poetry in simple form? Do you want to experience reading without digging out the dictionary? You can find that here. In my blog there are many followers that are caring and loving.
- Daily Prompt: As Seen on TV (charlottefrederiksen.wordpress.com)
- DP Daily Prompt: As Seen on TV post by Ranu (sabethville.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: As Seen on TV (dailypost.wordpress.com)
- Daily Prompt: As Seen on TV (angloswiss-chronicles.com)
- Daily Prompt: As Seen on TV – Bedtime stories (littlegirlstory.wordpress.com)
I don’t know if any of you would be interested or not, but I thought I would put the word out here to you.
As you know if you follow me I have been writing more and more poetry. I decided I wanted to save them in one spot and hopefully later on I will publish a book on my poetry.
There is nothing more than my poetry I write on here. No stories or funnies, just poetry. This way it will be easy to pull all my work and gather it together.
My editor told me that the book Dahlia will be published very soon. I am so excited. I am working on the book about my brother’s life journey and now this. I am not doing it for any reason, just for myself, and hopefully I can help someone smile or remember something about their own life or past.
Well, there it is, out in the open. So if any of you want just a page of poems come check it out! Thanks for reading dear friends.
- Read Me Poetry, Please – 4 Short Poems, Spoken By Me (thisaeshaw.wordpress.com)
- When poetry met the poet (thehindu.com)
- Serious poetry is art but is it too elitist? (joylennick.wordpress.com)
- Poetry 2Life Celebration (ddwright.wordpress.com)
- If I Was Your Poetry (treespirit.wordpress.com)
- The Art of Poetry (nonfictionspeaks.wordpress.com)
- Poem (njwdragon.wordpress.com)
- I have written a REAL poem! (martygylleck.wordpress.com)
- Poetry Is Not For Rushing – Part Two (on writing poetry) (queeroticpoetry.wordpress.com)