Daily Prompt; A Friend in Need

http://dailypost.wordpress.com, Daily Prompt, DP

Finish this sentence: “My closest friend is…”

Photographers, artists, poets: show us FRIENDSHIP

My very best friend. It sounds nice when I say it. I am truly blessed to have that one special person who has been there for me, and I know I try very hard to be there for her. She and I met over 35 years ago.

My mother worked at a place that needed a job. I told mom about my friend in need of a job. Magic happened and I started watching my her kids while she worked. Our friendship blossomed from that point forward.third stage flowers

We have never been like twins thinking alike, but we seemed to connect. We could feel what the other was thinking before it was even voiced. We became the best of friends in no time at all.prairie dogs

She and I used to live in the same city. She had marriage problems and I hope that I helped her through it.

When it came to me and my marriage became bad enough to cause me physical and emotional damages, I had her to lean on. Our kids are nearly the same ages.

Today she lives a couple of hours a way. When she first moved I didn’t know how I was going to live without her but through time I came to accept that she did what was best for her.

We stay in touch quite a bit. Late-night phone calls. I am the one who never wants to hang up. I keep telling her I will say goodbye but fifteen minutes later I am still chattering a way.

We text each other. We meet and go to lunches and antiquing together. She is a very talented woman. She is so talented with her voice. She is a brilliant artist. She has made some wonderful creations out of card making.

When I visit her house it is not her that I heal. It is me that heals from being around her. Surrounded by someone who loves me for who I am. I don’t think in our 35 years of friendship we have ever fought. We had one disagreement that ripped us apart at the seam, but we managed to sew it back up.

I was afraid from that one time that our relationship would never be the same, but in my eyes, it is better than ever.

She is my rock. She always has been. rock She means more to me in life than I mean to myself. I don’t know what I would do without her.

We all need someone special to call our own. We can have many friends and then we have close friends; but that very special, close friend is a gift from God and I will always treasure her.

Thank-you L.S. for being the best ever.


One Peek Is All You Get

I know for me, I often wonder what you look like. So many of you I hold dear to my heart and yet I see no face. A blogger, in fact, Ute, mentioned she didn’t know what I looked like before.

Since I am in a good mood today and have no shame, I shall make this post about me.

I weighed 7 pounds even. I have only seen one baby photo of me and I was blonde-haired with fat rolls. Gee, nothing much has changed in all these years, huh. I had blue eyes which obviously I still have.

I was born on April, 21, 1954 in a small town near Fort Wayne, Indiana. From what I was told I was born in the early morning, which a lot of babies are.

I don’t have many photos of me being young. I will start with my ones I have and come to today. I found some of Al too, so why not share right? Here are his photos.100_0749100_0780101_0604dscf4206HPIM0378HPIM0219Al and Rhino

me and brother101_0629101_0626HPIM0308HPIM0269?????????????????HPIM0067dscf4163



Sergent lay gasping for air. His lungs filled with smoke. His nose was dry to the touch. Lying on his side, ribs digging into his soul he fights to make it. Refusing to give up what he is taught, to win.

To be patted on the head, have his belly rubbed. To get his favorite treats, to hear his master’s words of praise, this is what Sergent lived for.

Born on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio Sergent was one of six pups. Bottle fed and being the runt of the litter made his life a struggle from the moment of his first breath. Yet he thrived out of the entire littler. One other pup, who had been born first, died.

Thus, he was named Sergent because he was a born fighter and survivor. Handled with care and a gentle push to be the best he grew into a well-rounded happy pup. At a young age Sergent was taken one day into the strong and yet somehow comforting hands of a giant.

It only took a few days of his new master showing love when Sergent began to follow Mike where ever he was allowed to go. Sergent was eager to show Mike that he loved him. He wanted to earn his respect.

The young pup and his owner worked and played hard on a daily routine. Hard runs, training and lots of treats. Firm commands and frisky playing made Sergent the best damn dog Mike had ever trained.

It wasn’t long that when Mike woke up in the mornings Sergent was already a wake with one eye on his master waiting for breakfast and a full day of activities. When Mike attended to the other animals on the property Sergent was right there, making sure Mike did it all right.

The two friends could recognize each others moods by a certain tone in voices, or a slowness in walk. These two ate their meals at the same time and slept in the same bed.

One day their time was up. With tears in Mike’s eyes and a whimpering for his master, Sergent was handed over to another pair of hands. These hands were worn and blistered but steady. The leash held firmly yet with a gentleness and pride. Sergent couldn’t help but keep looking back as he was commanded to get into the jeep. From the moment the engine was started until there was not one speck in sight, Sergent stared after Mike.

When he could no longer see his master, Sergent laid down on the seat, trying to nap, thinking of the face he had grown to love. When they got to his new home, it was hot and very dry. Instantly his tongue started to droop but before he could try to swallow; a large bowl of water was placed in front of his face.

Sergent looked up at this stranger and thanked him with his eyes. Another bowl was placed beside the water bowl. Dog food mixed and wetted with table scraps. Once again Sergent looked up into those eyes and caught a familiar sight. A smile with pearly white teeth. Their eyes met and from that moment forward there was a connection.

Sergent would never forget Mike, but now that he was with Frank, he knew he was safe. The following day new classes were introduced to Sergent, who by now was a machine-made out of firm muscle. Strong legs stood at  attention. Tail, sleek and smooth, head poised, and yet standing tall at attention.

These classes were a harsher training. No more rough housing. Training for sniffing out enemy bombs. Hidden trenches full of enemies. Sergent and Frank didn’t have the same kind of relationship that he and Mike did.

In this relationship he was named King, a nickname by the platoon for his excellent work. At chow time Sergent sat at the doorway of the tent but with a click of a finger he was at the side of anyone who was willing to give up a bit of their own food.

In no time at all, Sergent was allowed to venture ahead of the troop, clearing the way for progress. Day after day King kept his buddies safe and secure. Friends and family members sent King more packaged gifts than the troop. He became the first one to be in line at mail call.

It was a happy family. Hard work, early to bed, good food and a nice comfortable bed made out of old blankets.

King had lived with his platoon for nearly a year when the tragic accident happened. He missed his mark. No one knows what happened. Was it the change in air? Was it  too much dust and sand? Was King not feeling well that day? There were no answers.

All I was told was that King walked into a sand pit filled with grenades. He lay there breathing hard. His lungs filled with sand. His nose dry. Their eyes met. There were no smiles. Instead there were tears coming from Frank’s eyes. Sergent heard the compassion in his owner’s voice. The love between the two forced King to give it all he had. To fight for his life.

He fought hard. Given sips of water, pats on the head, and a new blanket to cover his body, Sergent gave his last breath and his life for his troop. Hats lowered, knees bent, in the heat of the sun, men mourned.


What we think we know

We may  not

What we plan for tomorrow

May not come true

We may breathe this moment

And be gone in a blink’s eye

What we may put off today

May  not come tomorrow

Live life to the fullest

Do it today

Smile and breathe deeply

Notice the tiny things

Be thankful and give thanks

Live like

This is your last moment.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd