Daily Archives: June 17, 2012
Link
My Gift to You
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I posted a link for myself and for all others that blog here with me. I, myself, am alright today, but inside I am crying. I am trying to stay strong, but I know my life is about to have a big change made.
If anyone of you has suffered or are suffering now from anything in your life, and you believe in our almighty God, please copy and paste this, and watch and listen. It is helping me today, so I wanted to share this with the ones in my life that I care about so much.
This just isn’t a writing blog site to me, it has become personal. I share my tears, and fears and laughter with you. I read also your stories of pain, and sorrow, and tears and fears.
This is my gift to you,
May God Bless you all.
Terry
Link
His Job Is Complete
Matane cemetery (Photo credit: Bête à Bon-Dieu)
Today being Father’s Day my brother asked me to take him to the cemetery. I didn’t want to go, but I knew he deserved to go. Just the mention of Father’s Day places a large lump in my throat, and I wasn’t sure if I could pull it off without breaking up at the cemetery.
I took him out to eat, since he hadn’t been anywhere the entire weekend. Not that I didn’t try, but he just doesn’t feel good. After we ate we went to a local department store and I bought Al straws to drink from. He is having trouble raising his arms far enough to get a glass or pop can high enough to drink from. He has been dribbling most of his drink down his chin from the level being off-balance. I got him some more pain pills and some good-smelling shampoo and body wash. I picked up some flowers for him and for me so we could each place them at the grave. Now we were on our way.
We reached mom and dad’s area, and Al just started bawling right there on the spot. He was crying so hard, he could not even get out of the car. I got out and went to the other side and helped him out. I handed him his flowers, and he went ahead of me. I stayed in the background, giving him his privacy, and when he was finished, I made my way to pay my respects. I wished my daddy a wonderful Father’s Day, and told them both that I loved them and missed them.
Next Al wanted to see grandpa’s site, so we went over to the next road and I waited while he paid his respect to all family members there. Then we walked back over to mom and dad and Al says to me. I am going to be right next to mom. I said huh?
He doesn’t say anything and turns towards the car. He gets back in and then I go over and get in my side. Before turning the car on, Al looks at me and says, God told me last night that I was going home sooner than he had thought. I asked what do you mean, what did he tell you? He says to me, God asked me if there was anything else I wanted to do before he took me home, and I said I wanted to forgive my dad. As usual, when I can not deal with something, I sit frozen and quiet.
Al tells me that he needed to see mom and dad today. He says that he asked dad to forgive him for anything he did, and then he said dad told me he did and also asked Al for his forgiveness. He then made the skin crawl on me and said to me, mom raised her arm and pointed to the side of her and said this is where you will be, right here with me. I asked, what does that mean? He tells me that he has a spot right there beside mom and that she patted it for him to come.
I don’t know if Al ever knew that he has a spot right beside mom waiting for him, or whether this really happened, but for my own well being, I choose to believe what he is saying. I never question what others say about God, because God shows himself to others in many ways. Al then speaks for the last time, and says God came to him again at the spot, and says your time is very soon.
We both sat there. I cried because I was already grieving for my brother, and also because I miss my parents so badly. Al cried, because he had done what he needed to do, and now told me he was ready to go. Not home, to heaven.
I started the car, and we drove home in silence, each of us consumed in our own thoughts.
Picture It And Write It, June 17,2012, Writing Exercise
http://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/
Waiting, wishing, wanting. This was what was on his mind. Tongue hanging out, with drool spilling from the tip. He was hungry. Softly walking the perimeters, looking front and behind, to see if anyone or anything was following him. He was tired and he didn’t feel like fighting for his meal.
The season had been a hard one for him. Food was low. No one was leaving any food out, making meal time a bit easier to latch on to. There was nothing in the trash bins, but paper and cans and some plastics.
He sat himself under an oak tree, and with ears perked up, listening for intruders, he cleaned himself. There was more dirt where he traveled than grass. Without much rain, even his own prints could be seen in the dust.
He used to consider himself an outstanding creature, but as he bathed, he could feel his bones. His fat that he usually carried was disappearing.
Stopping, listening, he heard a sound. Sitting up straight he sat very still. His green eyes were scanning the darkness, trying to hone in on what was out here. His nose wiggled as he began sniffing for familiar smells. There it was again, not far in the distance. He got on all fours and began to make his way, edging closer to the sound. His mouth began to water, as he could envision, his next meal. His belly almost touching the ground, his green radars had caught the target.
Crawling closer and closer, he was inches from his prey. He licked his lips, and crouched in his attack position. He waited for one second, then pounced, placing both front legs over his prey. Nothing, he had missed.
His eyes quickly found his trophy and moved the few feet, and crouching once again, make his move. His body covered it. He could feel it trying to escape under his belly. There was a fight between the two. He was not giving up. He quickly moved to the side, while using his foot to hold his victim. With one foot holding his meal, he reached down with his white fangs and bit into fur.
He started shaking his head back and forth wearing down his prey. He let it drop and bit into it once again, and he could feel the body becoming limp. He dropped it from his mouth and batted it silly with his front legs, until it moved no more. Dead, lifeless, victory, a meal.
He picked it up once again and took it to the back porch and tossed it down. He looked briefly around, and no one was present, and then sat down to feast on his mouse.
Thank you Ermilia for allowing me this chance to write for Picture It And Write It.
Who I am 