Tag Archives: Grandparent

Chapter 9

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Al started spending more and more time at Grandmas. She lived on the same property as Mom and Dad did. In fact, the property was large enough that it held three houses and each house had a family member in it.

When Granddad passed away, Al was asked to go down and spend the nights with Grandma for a while to help ease her pain. He had no trouble with this request. He loved Grandma very much.

It didn’t take long before a routine developed. He would go to work each work day and then he would go home and shower and then head to her house and the two would eat supper together.

Suppers at our own house were never pleasant that I can remember. I can understand why Al went the other direction. At our house I could never put my finger on the problem. I know it really wasn’t us kids directly, but maybe it was and we didn’t realize it.

There was always tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife. If I wasn’t being forked in the elbow for bad manners, Dad was picking on Al for anything that came to his mind. I never remember Dad ever saying, good job Al, I know you did your best.

What I remember is, why can’t you ever do anything right? I tell you and tell you over and over. Do you have something wrong with your brain? Are you just plain stupid? I may as well have done it myself.

Through the years that I lived there when I was still growing up or even when I would drop over for a visit and end up eating a meal with them, this never changed. I used to say to myself, Well why don’t you just do it yourself then and leave him alone.

Mom would get all tense and nervous through these meals. Mom had a great outlook on life but Dad always ended up tearing it down. I don’t know if Dad meant to or even knew the stress he was causing.

I knew they had arguments behind bedroom doors. I hate to think that Dad was intentionally being mean. I think he felt so insecure about his own self he couldn’t stop it. Back then you didn’t run to the therapist for every problem. You fixed it or lived with it.

Mom worked the 8-5 job and although I cooked a lot of meals and tried my hardest to keep the house cleaned, it was never enough once we all sat down at the dining table. Our half-sister was the adorable one. She talked about school and what activities she was in. Conversations quickly turned to her to escape even more fog.

When I graduated from high school Mom and I weren’t the closest. I always knew that she and I had never bonded like moms and daughters should. I loved her the best I knew how, but she hurt me.

I pondered on what it would be like to have a Mom who really loved me and wanted me. I am not ever going to say that I didn’t cause grief for her. I think  most kids cause grief for their parents.

I moved out of the house and got to be one of those bratty kids according to my Mom because I didn’t remain at home. My Mom worked up town and I would sit across from her office on the courthouse lawn and watch her through the window.

Why did I do that, I don’t know for sure. I think now when I look back I wanted her to notice me. I wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as she had made me feel. One summer day I was sitting on my favorite bench and I walked over to say hello to her when she got off of work.

I walked with her to the back alley where her car was parked. I don’t remember what transpired between her and I but I do remember those cutting words even today. I don’t know why you can’t be like your half-sister. She never gives me trouble like you do. But of course I could never love you as much as I do her. She is my only child.

Wow, what a blow to me that was. I think deep inside my gut I knew that was the way she felt about me but to hear the words. I wanted to run and hide under a big rock, I wanted to die right there on the spot.

I tried for years to forgive myself for ruining her life. It never worked. Then I blamed her thinking, Well no one forced you to marry into a ready-made family. Don’t blame me for this.

I wonder now as I write this if Al understood enough and felt the way I did. We were the extras. We were the baggage that came along. If she wanted to marry our Dad she  had to take us in to.

Mom told me one time a few years before she died, You understand Terry, why I could never adopt you and Al and legally be your Mom. I was always afraid of your real Mother coming back for you if she read or heard about it.

I can remember looking at my brother Al, and in my heart telling him, It’s not our fault bud. We didn’t ask for this. You and me, we belong together, we are real brother and sister. I love you bud.

Life for me became more dismal after she said that remark. It sliced so hard and deep that I still haven’t gotten over it today. While I am writing this, the pain instantly re-surfaces and I feel the deep ache of wanting to belong.

I have to believe that inside Al’s head today is masses of memories too difficult to deal with. They remain hidden and buried so deep that even  with all of the professional counselors I have had him to, nothing works.

Counselors do alright until they touch the subject of parents and Al flips out. I don’t mean slightly, I refer to him as a tornado. Dark and huge coming at you with daggers so sharp they would kill you.

The topic was always dropped when the professionals saw this. They usually dismissed him as a client also. We went through five therapists. The last one specialized in Adult Disabilities and she just knew she could help Al. But once again, when she approached the parent topic after having seen Al for one month, he exploded.

I never tried again after he was so outraged that the police were called and they had to calm him down by force. When I hear the word therapist today, I use every block I have within me to keep Al safe.

I know that he should get it out of his head, but I refuse to put him through hell ever again. God will deal with Al. God will protect him in the perfect way.  I do not have what it takes to approach this subject matter. When the nursing home came to me with the idea of someone speaking to Al, I stood tall like a fence and said

Bye granddad....

NO.

 

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Blood That Follows

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In my family Al and I had very few blood relatives. I know that to some this isn’t very Blue_candleimportant. To me it was, because I liked knowing that I belonged somewhere.

Al and I had our dad and my dad’s one sister and my dad’s mother.

I had stored a bowl that was left to me by my grandma and I received it this weekend. I also have photos of my family. I thought I would share with you. It also gives you a little bit more insight as to why my brother means so very much to me. He and I are real brother and sister.

grandma's bowlThis belonged to my grandma’s side of the family. I will treasure it always.

alvin and meThis is Al and me after we started our new life with our dad and stepmom.

alvin graduation pictureThis is Al on his graduation day.

dad's dadThis is my dad’s dad.

grandma and grandpa taylorThis is my grandma and my real grandpa.

four generation picThis is a generation picture. My dad is the baby in the photo.

my mom and dadThis is my stepmom and my dad about five years before they passed a way.

my kids when they were youngThese are my kids when they were young.

 

http://www.youcaring.com/medical-fundraiser/too-much-pain-and-too-little-money/55964

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My Brother’s LIfe Journey Chapter 4

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2007–present, notice that the curved lines are...

I remember Christmas the following  year. Al got a train set. It had a soft whistle. I think Mom and Dad were hoping to calm his fear of trains. The track went around the Christmas tree and I can still see Al laying on the floor watching the train go round and round. When Dad made the whistle blow Al did not cry.

Mom and Dad were very smart in this idea. It worked and in time Al became less and less afraid of trains. Our entire extended family spent Christmas together. I still have photos of my two cousins in their new striped bib overhauls. The silver tinsel tree is standing in the background.

The  next year Dad received an inheritance from a family member who passed a way. He and Mom decided it was time to move our family out to the country. I didn’t realize exactly what that entailed. I was excited because I was going to get my own bedroom.

Al and I had slept for a year or two in the same bedroom in bunk beds. Now he and I would be separated by a hallway. When the house was finished, it seemed that Al and I parted a little bit.

He stayed in his room a lot and I rode my bike in the summer and went sledding in the winter . Al did eventually learn to ride a bicycle. He was so proud and he would ride up and down the country road. He would have freedom to choose to stop in at Grandma’s house or ride back home.

I should add that our Grandparents sold their city home and bought 80 acres and a home. It was shortly after our parents built a house a quarter of a mile down the road. Another neighbor that happened to live in the same city block that we all did also bought a house on the same road.

I always laugh when I think back to how four neighbors living in the same block and not all related ended up buying or building all within walking distance and remained for years to come.

Al was now 11 and I was 12. This is the year that started the big change for my brother. Our Granddaddy was in seventh heaven having the dream of farming come true. I can remember watching baby calves and piggies being born.

Granddaddy had the patience of a saint. He took Al with him everywhere he went on the farm. He taught him about life. He was silent while Al worked at becoming more vocal. Dad was already showing that he was uncomfortable around Al. I always believed that Dad carried guilt from our birth years and also shame that his one son was not like other sons.

Carrying these feelings caused great stress in our family. Then Granddaddy would come along and swoop Al up and take him to a calmer environment. While he taught Al and me how to pick up baby chicks, he also taught us how the circle of life works with farm animals.

We bottle fed new calves, we gave water to baby chicks. Al even laughed out loud as the baby lamb drank milk from the bottle Al was holding. We were shown how chickens laid eggs and then how chickens ended up on our kitchen tables. We were taught that calves were grown to feed us and to also purchase more farm animals.

Granddaddy taught us that living off the land was the only way to go. I will always treasure these times and Al still talks about Grandma’s big, soft, chewy sugar cookies. They were as round as  grapefruit. If we were real good we could have two at one time. Sometimes Al got three but I understood what Grandma was saying. Al was skinny and needed to eat.

She made the best ever potato salad too. Lots of big pieces of boiled eggs in it. She used mayonnaise in hers and Mom used a vinegar sauce in hers. I preferred the sweeter one and still love my sweets today.

I remember one time when Granddaddy was cleaning out the barn where the cows lived. He was cleaning the manure with his pitch fork. Al wanted to try it and so Granddaddy handed him the pitch fork. Al wasn’t too strong at this point yet and he got a fork full and then fell right in it. He started to cry and Granddaddy laughed him right out of his tears. All three of us got a good laugh over this and Grandma got stuck cleaning Al up.

These farm loving Grandparents were not our blood relation, but I can tell you that they were the best ever, and  when you talk about them to Al today,  his eyes always light up, and for his memories that he still has of them I will be forever grateful.

Since three families lived on one big property there was a great big garden. All summer long canning and freezing was done. Al got the jobs of taking garbage cans of corn cobs to the pigs. He had sort of the gopher job, but yet it was one of the most important jobs. While everyone had their hands in food, Al would go get things that everyone  needed.

Sometimes when we worked real hard our Grandparents would take us to the Dairy Queen. We would get great big ice-cream cones. I will share with you something that will tell you a difference between our parents and our Grandparents.

Grandma worked at home, taking care of family and gardens. Our mom worked full-time. Granddaddy was laid back and enjoyed every minute of breathing. Dad was always afraid Al and I would make mistakes so he was always on edge. When Dad was dating our new mom-to-be it was in the fall and early winter. Dad would bring us two kids along but made us stay in the car. He truly did believe that we would make noise. Grandma would yell at him every single time and tell him to go get those kids out of that cold car.

When our Grandparents took us to the Dairy Queen. We all went in and we made messes because by then Al and I were both big gabby mouths. They would laugh at us and talk to us and with us. When we were finished, we all cleaned up and went home laughing.

When Mom and Dad took us to the Flagpole to get ice-cream Mom was antsy because Dad was always on the edge of yelling. She became embarrassed for Al and me as Dad made us stand outside and eat our ice-cream. He didn’t want any accidents.

I always felt bad for Mom. Although it took me many years to bond with her she was an excellent Mom and she cared about us kids. She did the best she could with what she had considering Dad was always a grouch, but she loved him for a long time.

 

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My Brother’s Life Journey Chapter 3

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A woman from Tajikistan with a baby stroller i...

A woman from Tajikistan with a baby stroller in 2007. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Al and I were lucky for a few years while our Grandparents lived in the big white house. We had cousins who lived very near. Parents would take us trick or treating. Al would never wear a mask. He would scream bloody murder. I never knew what he remembered in his mind but something had made him deathly afraid of so many things.

Mom would dress him up with old clothes from home and would leave his head and face untouched and we would go out and trick or treat. Al didn’t want to go up to the doors so I would always get a couple of extra pieces and put some in his sack too.

I can remember Al and I used to sit for what seemed hours staring at the silver tinsel Christmas Tree. It had one of those moving lights under it and the tree changed colors. All the ornaments would sparkle and I can see Al still smiling so much with those big blue eyes.

When school started we went to the same school. But by the end of Kindergarten Mom and Dad knew that the school we attended could not help Al. He was switched in first grade to a school about three blocks from my school. I walked to school and a special bus came and picked up Al.

He went to the Special Education classes all through elementary grades. These years seem blank to me. He and I were separated for the first time. Different teachers and different programs. I do remember Al going with Mom and Dad to my school activities and me doing the same at Al’s school.

One thing that comes back in my memory is the big fan. In Grandma’s house my Granddaddy hung a big motor fan over  the screen door. I used to love to sleep on the couch in the summers and I was lulled to sleep by the noise of the fan. I still use a fan today and so does Al.

One night although it was a school night Al and I got to stay all night at our Grandparents. We were woke up early in the morning while it was still dark. Granddaddy told me that we had a new baby sister.

I don’t remember being thrilled over this. By now I was ten years old and it had always been Al and me. Now we had a sister. I knew that everyone was excited but Al and me. Of course he didn’t understand what that meant that we had another sister. He already had one, me. I felt a little bad inside because I wasn’t sharing in the excitement.

Changes happened then with our family. We moved a way from the happy block. We moved a few miles a way. I wasn’t able to see my Grandparents near as much, which made me sad. Al played more and more on the floor being very quiet and lining up all his hot wheel cars.

I turned to my baby dolls and pretended I was the mommy. I didn’t realize it then but somehow now reading back what I am writing I see that something bad had happened and I needed to be told I love you. I in turn told my baby dolls I loved them. I fed them and changed their diapers and clothes. I pushed them in the baby stroller. I couldn’t fit Al in the baby stroller so I pulled him in the wagon and continued letting him to ride on the back of the big red trike.

An old lady  started  watching our new baby sister, and eventually we slipped into that group also. Al became more into himself and I started to change too. I would cause problems. I would eat so much junk and then blame it on others. I went so far that I raced in from the garage when we got home and I would open drawers and flip over chairs and then when Mom saw it, I stood back and snickered as she questioned the neighborhood Moms about where had there kids been while we were gone.

I must have been really messed up over the baby sister. It seemed that this is when I began to look at Al as my brother and Dad as my hero and the baby sister as the unwanted.

Al and I were never really involved with the new sister. Al started doing worse at school and he started stuttering. Mom used to have to go into the school that he went to for meetings. She always yelled at Al on how she worked full-time and he needed to straighten up so she didn’t have to be a way from home so much.

I doubt that Al and I knew what really was happening back then , but I do know that Al and I stuck together more and more. It was us against the others. Al didn’t only start his stuttering. He had started getting something called impetigo. It would start on his lip and sometimes it would grow all over his chin.

I can remember Mom picking at the scabs and me yelling at her in my 10-year-old voice to quit hurting him. He was crying and I would run into the bathroom to see why he was crying. She made him cry. She was always picking at his face. I am sure she thought she was helping to get those ugly scabs off. But what about his tears? Didn’t it matter that he was crying? Please leave him alone Mom. Don’t make him cry.

 

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My Brother’s LIfe Journey Chapter 2

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Trains and tracks HDR

Al and I were introduced to our step-grandparents and these were very good times of our lives. Our Granddaddy as we called them lived in town in a big white cement brick house. It seemed like it took up the whole block.

It had a wrap a round porch and I can remember sitting out there with Granddad many afternoons when he was home. He was a furnace man. He installed new furnaces for customers and many nights during the winter he had to go out late at nigh to fix some person’s heat.

Granddaddy had floppy ears and big brown droopy eyes. Al and I would crawl on his lap and he would always let us without hesitation. He talked to us and played with us. It brings me smiles now just thinking about him.

I remember seeing Al happy too. Grandma and Granddaddy took great care of us and spoiled us with lots of good food. I remember one time I waited on a white rickety square stool and watched my Grandma making a Black Raspberry pie. She took the left over crust and rolled cinnamon and sugar in it and baked them right along with the pie.

I couldn’t wait to eat a slice of that pie. Even when it came out of the oven I could barely sit still waiting for my own piece. I remember Al was four and I was five now. Waiting for a piece of pie with ice-cream on top was pretty hard to do.

When I finally bit into the first piece I can still remember starting to cry as I told Grandma that there were bones in it. You should have seen her. Her belly shook as she laughed so hard. She told me those were seeds and not bones. That pie still remains my favorite today.

We lived within the same block that they did. We lived in an even bigger house than Grandma and Granddaddy. I remember being scared every night when I went to bed. There were four bedrooms upstairs. I was the only one who slept up there. Al slept downstairs as he needed more watching over than I did, and yet I was the biggest baby of the two of us.

I laid up there many nights afraid of the trees casting shadows on the walls. I dreamed of people being in my room. I seemed to always be afraid of the night and darkness. The only thing that I really recall that was funny about that house is watching Dad use one of those old push style mowers. They were hard to work and he sweated a lot when he sat beside me on the porch steps to rest. One particular day when he and I were talking after he mowed a big old nasty bird pooped on my dad’s bare back.

I know that I laughed and laughed so hard. Dad said some kind of cuss word that I didn’t recognize but I didn’t care. I was sitting with my Daddy, just him and me. I idolized my Daddy. He was God to me and never did anything wrong.

The other thing I recall is sitting in that small back bathroom that was behind the kitchen. Mom always thought sturdy. She had bought me black and white saddle shoes. I hated them with a passion. So when I was using the potty I would swing my feet back and forth. As soon as my shoes came into target range, I would spit on them. I told my step-mom about it when I grew up and she laughed with me.

Al always struggled walking. He had skinny little legs. He didn’t run and play too much. He liked laying on the floor and lining up those little hot wheel cars. For a few years Al wore Buster Brown shoes for toddlers. Mom always told me they helped his balance. I thought they were silly because he wasn’t a baby anymore. He needed red Keds like I had on.

I tried to teach Al how to use the hoola hoop but he never did get the hang of it. Al and I played a lot together. There was always some type of bond that I didn’t have a name for but it was like we understood each other.

I began to realize at a young age that I didn’t need as much help as Al. I could do more on my own, so I became his big sister and pulled him in our big red wagon. I pedaled our big trike and Al stood on the back so he could ride too.

Al cried every time he had to have a hair cut. In fact cried isn’t an accurate word. Scream is more like it. I don’t know today what the connection was but when he saw and heard the clippers he screamed bloody murder. I was always along and I bribed him with one cent bubble gum pieces but Mom always said no. I guess he always swallowed the gum.

He also screamed bloody high pitches when we were sitting waiting at the train tracks for the train to pass by. I can remember Dad always yelling at him to knock it off. It’s only a train. I can still see remember trying  to figure out why Dad would yell at Al when he was scared. I would wrap my arm around Al and tell him, it will be alright baby brother. It is almost gone. Al sucked on one of those pacifiers and he used to offer me a suck off
of it when I made him feel better. Some how even back in those days Al
knew I was there for him.

 

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My Brother’s LIfe Journey, Chapter 1

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Sit

Al is my brother. I am one year and two weeks older than he is. Telling this story will hopefully help others who are struggling in their own lives to see that I am here and you are never alone.

It was May 3rd 1955 when a little baby boy was born. He did not come into the world welcomed as many children do. He came born into the world as an innocent babe by parents who had major issues of their own.

He was born with brain damage. He was the second of two children and this lead to lack of care needed to help a baby grow. As I remember back in my memories I don’t remember him that young. But the truth comes out over time and I will tell you what I was told.

When Al was old enough to sit in a high chair he was placed there and ignored. No adult supervision. Al was able to maneuver himself up and over the high chair and fell different times causing more damage to the head.

Both Al and I were abused. In those days it was not called abuse. It was a family secret that was only spoken in strange moments. Al was abused more than me. I think I was not necessarily wanted more than he. I believe it is because one baby is easier than two.

Our parents were not in control of their own lives. With their young ages there was lack of training and maybe a feeling of entrapment over being strapped with two babies and a job that could not take care of all the needs within a family.

Parents of the parents stepped in and made opinions known. Guilt became an obsession and the need to escape became utmost in the minds of our parents. Our Mother didn’t work because she was too young. She was 15 when she had me and 16 when she had Al.

Dad worked at a bowling alley and hid behind the bottle when not at work. I have heard horror stories of how loud fights and beer bottles flew over our heads as we seemed to be always in the middle of all arguments.

One day our Mom took off with us kids. She didn’t tell a soul she was leaving. When Dad found out she was gone his Mother was grateful but insisted he get us kids back. I don’t know who Mom left with. I assume a friend took her. At her age she wouldn’t have had many adult friends to turn to. Back in those days being pregnant and unmarried was taboo so I am sure the conversations were limited.

I know that while we were prisoners of my Mom’s travels she had no money. She did what ever was necessary to survive. I don’t know how she fed and clothed us kids but I do know that she sold me to different people to earn money when I was about two years old. I shudder to think what may have happened to Al also. There are parts of me that don’t want to know. It is possible that Al can remember but it is so deeply hidden in his mind we may never know.

The Welfare department did eventually find us and return us to our Dad who was by now living back with his parents. Al and I were welcomed by the fact that we were the “kids”. I am not ever going to swear that we were united because of a great love.

I can remember sitting at my Grandmother’s table and Al sitting in my Dad’s high chair. He would be crying. He seemed to cry a lot to me. Even as a young child I can remember many tears and yelling episodes.

Grandma would tell him, “Be quiet. I can’t stand that noise. I wish you would just shut up”. I know that somewhere inside this house the word caring was lingering throughout. I know that my Grandparents took Al to the biggest children’s hospital in our state to find out what was wrong with him.

I can remember them telling other family members that he couldn’t sit up properly for his age. That he should be walking now but wasn’t. The hospital confirmed that he was mentally challenged. He also suffered from Rickets and he was malnourished.

I don’t think I was near as bad as he was medically. I do remember Grandma stuffing vitamins and eye droppers  filled with  Iron to each of us kids. I am sure that we were both fed much better than we were before.

Al slept downstairs where my Grandparents slept. Our Dad still worked at the bowling alley and came home very late. I remember that I slept in a baby bed for probably too many years. I also remember that my Dad slept in the big bed next to my crib.

Eventually Dad met our new Stepmother. After being married they moved to the town that Al and I now reside in. Visits came from our real Mom and I can still see me hiding behind the living room chair taking peeks at my real Mom and hearing them arguing about how she was going to come back to get me when I reached the age of 16. There was never a mention of coming back to get Al too. I can remember feeling confused and not understanding why she would only ask for me when I had a brother.

Dad then got a job at the State Highway Department and I think our new Mom worked at one of the local grocery stores. I remember she took us to a baby sitter. I knew fear even at the age of four. This babysitter was mean. I could see her smack Al for crying and I had to sit on a chair.

Yet there was a familiarity to this also. Al and I were not allowed to be kids when we lived at our Grandparents either. We had to sit on chairs and be very quiet. Neither of us knew what sunshine was or running and playing outdoors felt like.

 

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Your Journey Is Over

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shade tree

You brought joy to my life

You made me feel so loved

We’d spend afternoons together

Walking the raspberries or

The flower beds around the house

Cinnamon rolls were your best

And jams and jellies too

Sitting out under the big shade tree

Watching the birds and kids play

Holidays and birthdays

What ever reason so we could be with you

Trips to town to pick out treats

The kids were wanting to spend

The nights so often

You were my mother-in-law

And the best Grandma too

Only last night in the wee morning

Did I find out that you had a visitor

The angels came for you

And carried you to heaven

My stomach knotted up

And tears began to flow

Spending wee hours in the night

Helping my kids to cope

With their sadness

This is what mothers do

Be their comfy blanket

One to fall back on

This is the way I remember you

A soft place to fall back on

Away from the noise

Only nature and love

Surrounding my memories of you

I shall always remember

Your soft gentle eyes

The way you smiled when I spoke

When I look up into the heavens

I have no doubt that you

And your husband

Will be holding hands

And looking down on us

And smiling now that

You two are back together.

Terry Shepherd

03/16/2013

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~Psalms 23:1-6~

The LORD is my Shepherd, I shall not  want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul.
He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.
Amen.

Daily Prompt; Cliche / The Daily Post

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Grandparents

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Clichés become clichés for a reason. Tell us about the last time a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush for you.

When is the last time I felt like my bird in the hand was worth two in the bush? I really don’t know. Lately, I have not felt like I was the smartest pea in the pod. I have been dealing with massive amounts of paper work for my brother. Trying to understand the hidden meanings of government words.

Trying to abide by all requests and then discovering even more was wanted or needed. You know life seems so easy until you start looking at blank pages. You get out your dictionary and look up uncommon words. You try to make whole sentences down to one simple thought.

I guess the bird in the hand for me is the medical background. I may be in the dark room filling out paperwork by candle light, but when it comes to how patients should be treated my little bird tells me that certain things are not acceptable.

There are times when families come together and discover they have met the end of the road. All that is seen in the future is big boulders placed in the path. All uneven, no way of knowing how to get around them. The end result; placing Grandma or Grandpa in a skilled facility.

Oh the guilt that pops up  is horrendous. A smack in the face when we realize we are no longer going to our families homes for dinners or Easter egg hunts. No more family Christmas‘s like there used to be. Did we do enough? Are we making the right decisions? It happens to a lot of us until we work through it.

Did any of us know that life was really going to change this drastically as our age progresses? I don’t think we make it a priority to sit and ponder on it. We get wrapped up in our own lives, not because we are cold to anyone, but it is what it is. Paying bills, getting our kids through school, working our fingers to the bones to put food on the table. Trying to get our 401K’s big enough to take care of us when we hit the golden years.

Then the bomb drops. We get a medical problem that wasn’t on the schedule. A brother or sister or Grandma or Grandpa gets really sick. We go in with blinders to the nursing facilities. We go in with confidence because we know our loved one so well.

Without our approval we are thrown papers and stacks of blank pages wanting our signatures. All of a sudden the tornado is spinning as we are slowly but not entirely giving the care of our loved ones into strangers hands.

We find many times we are talking among ourselves about decisions that have been made. What do you think Auntie would think about this if she could speak for herself? I know that Grandma is used to taking her showers on Saturday mornings first thing after breakfast. Do you think she will mind having to wait until Saturday night right before bedtime. Hey we all know how much Grandpa hates mixed vegetables. Did you see that big helping they gave him for dinner last night?

Many new doors are opened and suddenly we realize so much that we took for granted; information that we have known for years, no one else is aware of.

I am thankful for the years of experience I have gained. I have taken care of dying patients, family and Hospice. I have taken care of disabled and the geriatrics. I have come face to face with hitting, spitting and plain old-fashioned confusion.

I didn’t realize at the moment that I was building a huge book of etiquette for the human soul. Kindness and respect along with dignity are I believe more important at this point than ever before.

Don’t put your loved ones in a new home setting thinking you can leave and everything will be alright. You can pay your weekly visits and leave thinking what a nice visit. Remember back to when you had your own children, or maybe back to a younger time when you babysat for money. What was the adults highest regard while you were caring for that child? What was your biggest concern in raising your own children?

We need to go back to those times and remember them. Write them down, stick them in your memory box, tie a string around your finger. I am so grateful for my experience. Now I can quickly see when things are not right. There is a huge difference in making sure someone is taking their medications and eating and then mixing in compassion and love for a human soul who has the right to dignity to the last breath.

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Daily Prompt; Use it or Lose it/ The Daily Post

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Write about anything you’d like, but make sure the post includes this sentence:

“I thought we’d never come back from that one.”

Have the pontoon out on the lake

Granny is sitting in her bikini to bake

Grandpa has his fishing reel in hand

Hopes to hit the big grand slam

Dad’s at the wheel and out of control

Two ski jets fly by and he yells go blow

The kiddies are yelling and screaming in fun

Granny puts in her ear plugs and looks towards the sun

Mama has her hands in the cooler I see

The son is  now  yelling I gotta go pee

There is nowhere to go except over the boat

My stomach is churning I hope I don’t choke

I hold on to him as he leans very far

Get this over now son why didn’t you go near the car

A wave comes by before I can get my grip

I drop the kid and I bit my lip

He got so scared he peed his pants

I cling to my seat beginning to chant

Get me off of this boat or I’m going to swear

I wanted to stay home and not go anywhere

Dad had never heard my voice this loud

I swear you could hear it over the beach crowd

He flung the boat in a quick reverse

I think I heard grandpa starting to curse

Away we took off over the waves we did slide

Everyone became quiet, they just wanted to hide

I saw the shores of our home come in view

I motioned to the others to now take my cue

Get me home in the shade and out of this sun

I thought we’d never come back from that one

Terry Shepherd

12/31/2012

 

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What Is Couple Sex? , Had To Blog This, Difference Between Kids and Adults Minds

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An 8-year-old girl went to her grandfather, who was working
in the yard and asked him, “Grampa, what is couple sex?”
The grandfather was surprised that she would ask such a question, but decided that if she’s old enough to know to ask the question, then she’s old enough to get an honest answer.
Steeling himself to leave nothing out, he proceeded to tell her all about human reproduction and the joys and responsibilities of intercourse.
When he finished explaining, the little girl was looking at him with her mouth hanging open, eyes wide in amazement.
Seeing the look on her face, the grandfather asked her, “Why did you ask this question, honey?”
The little girl replied, “Grandma says that dinner will be ready in just a couple secs.”