Lost


Sometimes I write to show you something and sometimes I write for my own healing. Today is the latter reason; for my own healing.

I used to be so bubbly. I was always ready to go somewhere and laugh tons and enjoy the day. I don’t know what has happened to me.

If I am in a crowd of people; I want to be home sooner than later. I used to sit and listen to people talk and tell their stories but anymore I have learned these stories cause some pain because of plain, old gossip.

I used to jump up and eat and get dressed and put the make-up on; not anymore. I do feel awesome when I first wake up. I feel little pain. I give my thanks to God for this day. I would rather now take my time and I discovered this past few months, that not long after I am awake; I could go back to sleep if time allowed.

I don’t cry. I haven’t cried since my brother passed almost five years ago. I think between losing him and my dad; I just cried all my tears until they are permanently dried up.

I volunteer each week. I love it but I find myself almost wishing I didn’t have to get up and go. Once I am on my way; I am good to go.

People get on my nerves so much anymore and that used to never happen. I was always a people person.

I have a few excuses as to why this change has happened. Winter? It’s always a long winter  here in Northern Indiana. Shorter days of light? Maybe. The place I live in? Perhaps. I was told by the manager at the time I applied that this building was really hopping.

All sorts of activities to attend, friendly people. This has not proved to be the case as now living here for two years, what I mainly see is a variety of people. Senior Citizens live here. Disabled adults live here. Mentally challenged people live here.

This leads to a variety of things to see on a daily basis. In fact, I just saw a post taped to an escape door on my floor. “If we see such and such, please don’t let  him in.” This  happens so much here.

There are illegal activities here almost daily. Maybe this is another reason I  hibernate in my room. I posted this topic before and had a reference made back to  me that this is happening everywhere. If it truly is then this is a sad state of world we live in.

Maybe I am just plain living in the fifties. I shouldn’t be of course. I was born in the fifties. Maybe I should take that back and say sixties. I would just love to live in an area that is safe, an area that doesn’t reach below freezing for most of the winter.

I think about moving farther down in Indiana and then I instantly think of my kids. Nope, can’t do it. I tried it different times in earlier years and always came back home. I am telling you though; this weather, this cold and frigid weather hurts my body and mind and spirit.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore. I just know, that I don’t have that bright spirit. I could sleep and hibernate for days upon in and yet I don’t like this at all.

Well, I don’t know if you can relate. I don’t even know if I helped heal myself. I just know I need a change. Lord help me figure this out.

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I am a Nut in a Shell


I woke-up early in a good mood. After sitting in bed a few minutes I decided I really wasn’t ready to get up. I laid back down and slept another hour. This time I had to get  up and was ready also.

I took my shot and my medications then drank my first cup of coffee. I turned on a movie that I had seen last night on the news. It was called, Abducted Twice in Daylight; I think. It was about this small town where everyone knew and were good friends.

A neighbor and his family had moved in next door. The two families became close friends, sharing their lives together like most neighbors do. What happened from there, didn’t really shock me but I was more into what is going on in the minds of sick people. It was a movie I watched to the end.

I don’t know if I have ever been that trusting in my entire life to  have made some of the decisions these parents of the kidnapped girl did. Maybe I have a more suspicious mind. It seems to me that in this movie, things would have got nipped in the bud long before people’s lives got hurt. You will have to check this movie out and let me know what you think.

The next thing I did was get dressed and put on some make-up. I have been applying make-up to cover some of the age spots I have. I have always had a fear of dying and getting old. Don’t ask me why. I already know I am going to heaven and I realize I can’t stop the process.

I went into the bathroom and tried to do something with my hair. I actually hate my hair cut I got a few months back. It didn’t turn out like I wanted at all. I may have already mentioned this in a prior post, but after the hair cut cutting began; I learned the stylist was new. A nightmare is what I call it. It can only grow out in my opinion.

I used a mirror to see the back of my hair in the bigger mirror. I almost fell over and I felt my jaw drop big. What I saw was this hugs area of small thinning, maybe bald spots. Oh my gosh. I am getting old.

Instantly, any good thoughts about how I looked at myself were gone. I wanted to change my clothes back to bed clothes and hide under my covers. My opinion of myself as being outgoing and not too bad looking for almost being 65, and the thoughts that there are others heavier than me, came tumbling down like and eruption of boulders falling to the road.

I did the best that I could. I decided then and there I would not color my hair a darker shade anymore. I would let it go back to its natural blonde. This way the baldness wouldn’t be so bold.

I put everything away, and got me a cup of coffee. Here I set at the computer talking to you and yet my heart is still sinking and my self-worth is almost shot. I always wanted to be accepted, a thing from my childhood. I always wanted people to know that I was a compassionate, caring and empathetic woman. Why in the world do I want to hide myself now over bald spots?

 

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Filling the Gap


Paul spent most days in a routine. He began by waking promptly at five in the morning. He read a chapter in his Bible then got dressed. In the kitchen he started his coffee maker and then stared out the small window while listening to the noise of the coffee perking and inviting memories to help set his day.

After eating a bowl of oatmeal with butter and honey, he tidied up the kitchen, grabbed his jacket and hat, then headed for the garage. He guided his car to the three blocks ahead, turned down the little, gravel path and shut the car off. There, he sat for however long it took to make him feel the comfort he needed.

His wife, Anna, had been buried here seven months ago this day. She had passed a way from a grueling disease. It was a long battle and they both had not won. It was a neurological disease called Multiple System Atrophy.

Prior to this disease, their map of life had been drawn by thick, dark lines. Travels to Arizona and New Mexico had been penciled in. Sights of a large cruise ship sailing along the waters was in the making.

Then, out of the blue, Anna started running into things. Her fingers began to have a tremor in them. It seemed, as Paul remembered back, that each few months, a new symptom arrived. He could remember her first fall, her first choking, the day she got weak while tending to her flowers. Everything was crystal clear now but back then it was a train traveling fast on the rails; a real blur.

“I miss you so much Anna. Life is definitely not the same. I now no longer dream of tomorrow. In fact, I tore up that map.” Paul waited, as if for a response from Anna on what he had done. Feeling nothing, he got out of  his car and stood in front of the flowers he had planted.  When the time felt right, he got back in his car and headed home.

Once home he let the noise of the television and the chimes of his clock keep him company. In the midst of this one afternoon, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Opening the door, he saw his friend  Gene standing before him. He let him in and they both sat down in the living room.

” I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you Paul. I figured I would just come on by and pay you a visit. How are you doing my friend?”

” Oh, I’m fine you know. No new aches or pains. God let me breathe in a new day. I went down and visited Anna. I told her how much I miss her.”

“That’s exactly one of the reasons I stopped by Paul. There is this woman at church that I think could use your help.”

“Oh”, Paul said as he laughed,”I’m not interested in any sort of relationship. It just hasn’t been long enough. My mind is always on my wife, Anna.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that kind of relationship”, he said as he slapped his hand on his pants with laughter. “I mean, she is hurting. She’s got some sort of sickness. She’s been feeling all alone. She says no one understands how she feels. I figured you are a sensitive man. Maybe you could just be a good listener. This would be a good opportunity to get yourself a new friend; something to add to your day.”

Paul didn’t say anything and Gene didn’t push the topic. Instead, they turned to the weather and what the week hoped to bring. After about an hour, Gene said it was time to go. Paul walked him to the door and they patted each other on the back. “See you in church Sunday.” Paul nodded.

The days went by and Sunday arrived. Paul got his Sunday clothes on, grabbed his Bible and headed to church. He smiled and shook hands with the greeters. He spoke about nothing important to others. He headed down the aisle to his seat he sat in each Sunday. There sat his friend Gene. Beside him was his wife, Gloria and beside her was a woman sitting in a wheelchair.

She looked at him and he at her. He nodded and sat down, thumbing through the church bulletin. The choir began singing and Paul sat and thought about what was being said. He listened to the sermon which was on people helping people.

Afterwards, there was a church dinner. This church had a carry-in every couple of weeks. It was a nice time shared among all. It gave purpose to the day and week ahead. Paul found himself sitting between this lady in the wheelchair, Gloria and Gene sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Talk was light. Smiles were shared. Gene introduced the stranger. Star was her name. Paul found himself watching her as she ate. She dropped food at times. It looked like she was struggling a little with swallowing. He wondered what condition she had that made her do that. It threw him back to his memories of when his dear wife did that too.

After the dinner was done, people either helped clean-up or headed out the church doors. For a brief time, Paul and Star were the only ones left sitting at the table. They exchanged words that would not be remembered later.  Soon the silence could be heard. Everyone had left. Gene and Gloria got their coats on and the two helped Star with her coat on. They helped her to their car and Paul followed, watching them help get Star situated.

Weeks turned into months and it seemed every Sunday a new routine had been formed. Paul sat with Star and the two opened up more and in time they became good friends. Paul would share his memories of his wife and Star would share about her life and medical condition.

One Sunday, Paul had been invited over to Gene and Gloria’s house for dinner. When he arrived and being let in; he noticed immediately that Star had been invited also. Paul didn’t get upset. Instead, he found himself sitting next to her on the couch. The two chatted while dinner was being finished. In face, the two chatted so much, Gene couldn’t help but smile to himself, knowing he had made a good decision on introducing the two.

The following Monday, after Paul returned from his visit to see his wife, the phone was ringing as he walked through the door. He answered it to learn that Star had fallen and was in the hospital.

He felt a tug at his heart that he didn’t expect to feel. He thanked the caller and went about fixing himself his lunch. This consisted of some left-over baked chicken and a half of a baked potato he hadn’t eaten before.

He tidied up and decided to go to the hospital to see Star. He learned she had fallen out of her wheelchair while trying to reach for something and this fall had caused a broken hip. After the completion of the ER, Star was transferred to a room upstairs for a few days of observation and to make sure she was healing properly.

After that time went by, she was transferred to a local nursing home for rehabilitation. Paul learned she would be their approximately six weeks. Now, after his usual routine of daily living, he also added the daily visits to see Star.

He brought her little trinkets that sometimes included her favorite candy, or a new book to read. He stayed most days until the supper hour. He found himself wishing he didn’t have to leave. Star felt the same way. She couldn’t hide the fact  from herself that Paul brought her friendship which included a feeling of peace and a lingering to have the next day’s visit arrive.

There seemed to be a lighter step in Paul’s life. He told himself over and over he didn’t love Star. He could love no other woman except his Anna, but yet, this new friend, stirred something within him.

After a couple of weeks went by, Paul made his usual visit. He entered the empty room. Where was Star, he wondered. He walked out to the nurse’s station to learn that Star had been having a temperature and her lungs seemed congested. They had her transferred to the hospital for further investigation. Paul thanked the nurse for the information.

He took the one rose he had brought with him and laid it gently on the pillow of the made bed of Stars. He left the building and headed for the hospital. When he entered, he asked what room number she was in. The receptionist told him and he took the elevators to the fourth floor.

There was Star. She was laying in a bed. IV’s were hooked up to  her. He saw two of them. A monitor was keeping track of her blood pressure and heart rate. Star wasn’t talking. She was so quiet it scared Paul.

A nurse came in and checked on Star. She smiled at Paul but said nothing. Paul pulled up a chair close to Star. He watched her sleeping. His thoughts turned to prayers to the almighty God. He felt a tear drip on his folded hands. He knew in his heart that he had come to know and love this woman.

He started whispering to Star. He told her how he felt about her. ” I don’t know when it happened dear Star, but some where along the way, I grew feelings for you. I hope you can hear me. I just have to tell you this because I want to know if you feel anything for me other than friendship.”

He held her hand but nothing came out of her mouth. He sat there for hours, waiting for her to open her eyes. Suddenly her eyes twitched and she opened them. She looked at him but said nothing. Instead, she squeezed his hand. He took this as she was answering his question, that yes, she felt something for  him too.

Paul squeezed her hand back and then kissed her hand. He beamed and the two shared an emotion that would never be felt again. Paul finally decided he had to leave. His watch told him it was time for supper. He leaned in and kissed her forehead and whispered that he would be back the next day. Star closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Paul stopped at a small restaurant that served home-cooking. He ordered the special, meatloaf dinner. In this was a thick piece of meatloaf which included mashed potatoes and green beans. It was way too much food and he requested a take-home box for the leftovers.

When he arrived home, he turned the television on. He tuned in to some game show. He listened to it but kept thinking about what would Anna be thinking about Star. He fell asleep and was woken to the sound of the phone.

“Paul, I’m going to stop by in a few minutes. Get your coat and hat and be ready to go. There’s been a change at the hospital with Star. You and I are going to go visit her.” Paul hung up and got ready.

In no time at all they went through the double doors of the hospital and were standing in the doorway of Star’s room. Two nurses were in there. They saw Paul and Gene and hung their heads in silence. They took the white sheet and covered Star’s body then walked up to her friends and patted them on the back. “I’m sorry gentlemen. She just couldn’t fight it anymore. The infection in her lungs just got too big.” The nurses gave them a hug and walked out of the room.

Paul and Gene walked over to the bed. Paul reached down and felt Star’s hand through the sheet. He held it until Gene whispered ,”It’s time to go I think.” Paul let go of her hand and kissed his palm and transferred it to  her forehead. The two turned and left in silence, Gene’s arm around Paul’s shoulder, patting him, like everything is going to be okay.

 

Will everything be okay? Is death something that we can heal from?

Is it possible to love twice in a life time? 

Life sure doesn’t seem fair at times does it?

God placed us on this earth to learn and feel love towards others. For those of us who have experienced these feelings, we somehow manage to go on with our lives, but the void left behind never fully closes.

This story was written by;

Terry Shepherd

02/21/2019

Are You Ready Too?


It’s been a moving forward but slow last week. I pulled a muscle in my lower back. I don’t even know when I did it. Years ago when my daughter was born, which was in Germany, the doctors used the Spinal block for their drug of choice to deliver a baby.

Today, forty some years later, I can’t stand to have that spot touched. I’m sure Mr. Arthur has been settling in for a long-term relationship with me. I babied my back. I used OTC medications and my rice bag. I laid in bed quite a bit.

Yesterday, was the first day I could actually go through my day with only ten percent pain. It feels good to be back to my usual self. I am hoping that this week I will also receive a phone call stating my shoes will be ready to pick up.

With my Ataxia, it is  hard to stand steady and I will try anything that may help my feet. I hate that feeling that I am going to fall or the weeble wobble that my body does.

This week I will return to my volunteer job and there are doctor appointments and government meetings. I pray all will result in positive news.

The skies are something I wish I could change. The gray and brown colors are mainly what I see daily. Spring is coming though for us here in Indiana. Robins and Geese have been seen and these are good signs. Did  you know that Robins will not arrive back here in the mid west unless they are sure they won’t have to go a day without food? They are very smart birds.

I am so looking forward to greener grass, the smell of fresh air, the birds singing and watching the first flowers pop-up above grass levels. What about you? Are you ready for Spring?spring-season

Ah, The Hell With It


When you look in the mirror
Do you see horror or do you laugh
Do you recognize the person
Or do you feel you’ve been given the shaft?
 
When you crawl out of bed
Do you do it with ease
Or do you stop and fumble
Feels like falling to the knees.
 
If you rolled up your hair
And put make-up on your face
Do you think this would help
Make you feel part of the race?
 
When you go potty first thing
Do you look at your skin
Have you noticed the bags
That hang from your shins?
 
When you slip into clothes
Do you go for the look
Or do you put clothes on for comfort
Like a fish on a hook.
 
When you turn on the TV
And you see those faces
Does it make you want to go out
Buying up all make-up places?
 
I went through my stages
Of trying to keep up
Now I’ve decided to be comfy
And quit wondering what’s up.
 
Written by,.
Terry Shepherd
terry

January is Gone


t’s been a rough month
Words spearing my brain
I’m actually glad this month’s over
Now dreaming of rain and Spring.
 
Spring is all about new
New hope and answered prayers
I know God listens to my words
Because he is everywhere.
 
On the other side of the coin
Sadness can fill my eyes
It’s so close to my brother’s passing
When I was forced to say my goodbyes.
 
From this day forward
Alvin will occupy my mind
Still seems like only yesterday
He and I had so much time.
 
Our days are filled with goodness
Our nights can be like hell
I just have to remember to be thankful
While God teaches me to sit a spell.
 
It’s hard to not be guessing
What tomorrow may or may not bring
Will we still be like this morning?
Can time really change everything?
 
My faith is what I carry
In a bucket wrapped in my heart
I have to remember to refill it
Until this earth I depart.
 
Written by,
Terry Shepherd
 
Dedicated to life and my brother, Alvin Miller.

It Has Come the Time to Get Going


Wow, did we here in Indiana have some crappy weather this past week. We made new records for cold. Today, finally, the temps are above zero. I went out and cleared the knee-high snow from my car and started it. It felt almost like Spring.

 

Life has thrown me some curve-balls of news in the month of January. I, for one, am so thankful January is over. February will be better, even the groundhog did not see his shadow. Monday we are to be almost fifty.

 

I have been thinking about this winter and how it is time to do something. I have lived in my little part of the world two years. I want to go somewhere for a couple of days. I can’t afford too many people because of running into me and knocking me down. Hey, I can’t help it. I fall easily. I also don’t want lots of noise on top of noise. I want relax.

 

I love that word. Relax goes with calm, smile, breathing slow and easy, little stress. Isn’t it a lovely word? Without much money, what can a gal do with my thoughts? Any suggestions? Oh, by the way, in case you wonder, I live in Indiana.

 

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