Touching Yesterday

God has a way of

Helping heal the moment

I found this out tonight

As I revisited my past

Without wanting to

Dreading the familiar

Scenery the bumps

In the road and the hills

As I crept closer to my destination

My heart began to fall through

My chest I swear I could

Feel it deep in my legs

I had not ventured the

All too familiar area

For a few years

The thoughts of my daddy

And how I miss him still

Brought tears to my eyes

And as I walked in the front

Door of this stranger tonight

My feelings were clear for

All to see and feel

I swallowed hard

Knowing the topic was not my dad

But rather on this stranger in front of me

But in my thoughts I was crying out

Oh daddy why did you have to

Go and leave me this way all alone

My life has never been the same

As my heart is still broken

People place band aids over my heart

But I swear they fall off eventually

Exposing my pain so that I feel

As much as the day I laid you to rest

Then I came home and got on my computer

And discovered to my surprise that

People had thought of me they had

Awarded me for touching their own hearts

And I look at your picture daddy

And I thank you for making me who

I am today that I can feel what you felt

That I can be open and honest and

Say it hurts, it really hurts

I miss you so much I will never

Be the same but I am proud

Of what you have molded me to be today.

Terry Shepherddad, bev, me and theda


Best Moment Award






I can’t beat Michael Jackson’s speech, I’m sure. But while his speech is full of gratitude, mine is full of emotions. This is my best moment. This is the best award I’ve got and I’ll tell you why.

I’ve got several awards as a blogger as you can see on my right side bar – never mind that I only started blogging seriously in July last year (2012). All the awards I received were awarded to me as one blogger comparable to the rest, and I am so happy with that. But for the first time, My Best Moment Award did not only award me as a blogger. It tells me why I deserve the award and which of my posts made it for me. And I totally agreed with the award. My Sharing with Terry was indeed my best post and I really did my best to write it as I was struggling from too much emotions. I may not have written the best content and the best story in this post but it was my emotions which wrote the story entirely. My eyes were never dry when I wrote it.

The author of Moment Matters blog must be a very keen observer and diligent reader. I went over the choices and they are all excellent and exceptional. When other award-giving entities or mechanisms may just put in their close blogging buddies for convenience, this one I assure you was very well thought out, no disrespects to the others. I love all of them though. (These are Maxim’s words.)

Maxim, a dear blogging friend of mine has nominated me for this award. I had never heard of it. All I know is my eyes began to water as I accepted this. To know that I move people to tears as they read some of my posts causes deep feelings to stir within my heart.

I always try to speak from my heart and show. I really don’t know how else to write. Maxim, all I can say is a big thank-you. I will treasure this always.

Many blogs touch my heart also as I read them. One blogger that touched me every time I read her post was my dear friend Sara. Sara took her life last month as she could no longer fight. I miss you so much my friend. I hope you are at peace now.

Blogs that I would like to recognize are all of them, but I don’t have enough room so I have to pick a few for now.






Patty B


The Best Moments Award

Awarding the people who live in the moment,
The noble who write and capture the best in life,
The bold who reminded us what really mattered –
Savoring the experience of quality time.

Daily Prompt; First Light/ The Daily Post

Cover of "Guinness: World Records 2009 (G...

Remember when you wrote down the first thought you had this morning? Great. Now write a post about it.

The very first thought I had when I sat on the edge of the bed was God. I have had some  problem solving to do the past few days. As usual it involved my brother Al and me and my own life.

The first thing I did when I awoke was pray. I asked God,” I still need help God. I need your guidance. You know how lousy I am at making some decisions. I want to be fair to Al and me. I know that I need to move forward, and I also understand where Al is at this moment. I pray dear Lord that you help me”.

I went about my morning. Making that first pot of hot fresh coffee. Using the lady’s room. Brushing my teeth, combing my mop of hair. I waddled out to the kitchen and poured the first cup of coffee. I lifted it close to my nose and inhaled the aroma that would kick-start my day.

I didn’t turn on the television. I always did, but for some reason this week I have left it alone until the mid-day news comes on. I sat down here at the computer and played my game first of all.

You know what? I think I am addicted to it. It is a free Facebook game called Candy Crush Saga. I just love games. I always have. Card games, board games, games where you challenge your mind. Hey, I have to keep my brain exercised at my age, right? I may just end up having the biggest brain in my nineties. Maybe I will go down in the guineas book of records.

I was answering comments here at WP and the phone rang. I looked to see who was calling and it was the call I had been waiting on for two days. A nice friendly chat started the conversation and then BINGO, God answered my prayer.

I was lucky and blessed. Sometimes I go days, weeks, months and years before I get an answer. We hung up both knowing we have an upcoming meeting next Tuesday. As I rested the phone back in its cradle, I immediately thanked God for answering my prayer.

I had no doubt if it was me or God’s answer. It was Gods. I felt lighter as I walked. I smiled as I went back to my comments. I thanked God one more time for making this chilly snowy day brighter.

Sexual Molestation

What I saw at the grocery store. Story: An eye...

What I saw at the grocery store. Story: An eyewitness tip sent a paroled sex offender back to prison. (Photo credit: turkeychik)

It makes me sick to my stomach when I read articles about molestation in the newspapers. We hear them on television. Or maybe we hear about it in our neighborhood.

I know for me, I have grandchildren that live near me and I receive email alerts when a registered sex offender moves in close to us.

I don’t ever remember hearing this term sex offender when I was growing up, but I do remember one time when I was 16. I was staying over night at my cousin’s house. My parents had gone somewhere, I don’t remember.

I was sleeping soundly when I was jerked a wake by my male cousin. I was frightened and I got myself out of the situation but not without leaving behind some emotional scars of what he had tried to do.

Now today I understand the human nature of hormones and wanting to experience what those feelings are, or do I really get it? Experts say that when a baby fondles itself as their diapers are being changed to not get alarmed. It feels good to them so they are re-acting to it.

As a young child in early elementary years I was caught by an adult starting to play doctor with the neighborhood boys. I didn’t think anything about it. I didn’t know any better, but thankfully the adult supervision knew and the game was never started.

Where does it change? When does it go from being a natural state to crossing the line? What makes men, and I use that term men, because that is who we usually hear is the one starting the problem. I am sure there are females involved  but I actually don’t know.

What gives humans the feeling that it is alright to touch another human? Did I have those feelings when I was young but was too naive to act upon it? Did they ever enter my mind? Lord I hope not. But yet the game of doctors was definitely without my knowing an exploring game of the opposite sexes.

Is the way we act somehow have to do with something that happened in our very young childhood? Is it always the parents or grandparents fault some person crossed that line? I am not sure.

I really don’t remember a thing about my ages of 0-3 but I do know through stories that have been told and having been hypnotized because of my fear of the dark, that I was passed around the table so to speak like a bowl of sweet candies. I am so thankful I don’t remember a thing.

I don’t know if I suffered any long-term damage from those days, but I do know that my need to feel loved and needed is very high when it comes to who I am. Even though I live alone, there is always a deep longing to be needed for me, to be loved, to be thought about. Is this some damage left behind from days gone by? I don’t know.

When I did learn about sex molestation I was still in the stage where I knew little. I don’t know that much about it today either or I guess I would not be writing this with a non-understanding about it.

Oh I know how it works I just don’t understand why it happens. These men who molest young girls, can’t they get a girlfriend of their own or same age group? Why do they go for the innocent children?

How in the world can you make me understand why a daddy would take advantage of their own precious child? The only sick reason I can think of is some kind of power control? Bitterness? Getting back? Wanting others to feel their pain?

One time when I was about 10 I had an uncle that my mother didn’t obviously trust. She always warned me that if he ever tried to be with me alone to tell her immediately. This uncle had a garage in the back of their house that was transformed into a shop. There was one day and I do remember this well. It was sunny out and I had shorts and a shirt on.

My aunt was babysitting Al and me and the uncle came through the back door and called my name. He told me to come out and spend some time with him while he was doing his work. I don’t remember what the excuse was to get me out there, but it must have not clicked with what my mom had said because I went.

I do remember him laughing and being in a really good mood. I do remember him wanting to pick me up and spin me around. I do remember me being fearful of the spinning and I told him no. He picked me up when I had said no and spun me anyways. He had one hand under my rib cage  and his other hand right in my crotch.

I started to cry instantly afraid of the spinning, but the words of my mom filtered through and I became even more afraid. I started kicking and yelling and the aunt came to the back door and was yelling about what was I screaming about. He put me down and I raced in the house. As soon as mom picked me up I told her. Obviously this aunt never babysat for us again. I don’t know if mom told the aunt about it or what, it remained a hush topic for ever and ever.

Does this go on in families? Does one of the parents or siblings know what has happened or tried or is going on  but no one says anything. The hush game becomes the priority all of a sudden.

Does this lead the perpetrator to feel a certain power that he is getting a way with it so now he can go outside of his box and attack other innocent victims?

I wish I had the answers, but I don’t. I am not a professional doctor of any kind. I know that from what happened to me which was back in the fifties and sixties, can only be magnified today in the year 2000’s.

When my family sort of smirks when I tell them about a new email alert I received, I think to myself of what happened in my life, what I read in the newspapers, or hear on the television. I ignore the small laughter because I want my grandchildren and any innocent child under the legal age to be safe and have the opportunities to grow up believing in hope and faith and human kindness.