I Had to Smile


I wrote yesterday about my chaotic week. Full of hurt and loss from loved ones. After repeating to myself over and over, See through your eyes Lord, Hear through your ears, Love through your heart; I am more calm this morning.

I can not control how I am feeling in my heart from people’s actions but I can control how I let it affect me. There is nothing worse than being un-friended by a loved one or knowing there is an issue but the other person won’t allow you to know what it is.

What can I do about it? Pray, give it to God, let him deal with it. He knows how to fix things. The other thing I do when I get to bombarded by the “stuff” in this world is look for something that makes just me  happy, and this is what I did.

I went to my favorite second-hand store. I looked at everything, knowing I had a budget I had to stick to. I saw this piece that I had been wanting for about a month. Every time I went inside this store, there it sat.

Yesterday, I decided; this would make me smile. This would make me feel good every time I went into my bathroom, which is where I placed my new piece. Here is a photo of it and yes, I am still smiling over it.

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It is about four foot tall. It is slender which fits my bathroom perfect. I filled it with toilet paper and soaps. I love it. Of course I love old things. What do you think? Do you like it? Do you ever buy yourself treats when life gets you down? Does it help when you do?

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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Those Three Little Words


I didn’t sleep well at all last night. I am a big dreamer now a days. Usually they are nightmares but last night it was an eye opener. Do you ever have those dead stop eye opening moments? I don’t know if it’s good or not but I have not had them and now that I have had one; it has changed my view and thoughts forever more.

 

It happened so smoothly, it inched its way into my brain so softly that I didn’t even feel it happening. One sentence stated at an earlier moment and now as I lay my head down to sleep for the night, comes to me, opens the window to the mind, and sits staring me right in the face.

 

There is no denying, no place to run, no more excuses. I have to accept. So this is what I dreamed of all night and it woke me several times. This morning I feel almost like a friend who has lost their best friend. I see you but I don’t know you.

 

I know all there is or I thought I did and now I look at you through a clean window and I see no streaks. The truth shines through and now I must relax within and quit all the foolish ideas that up until now I thought would always work if only I worked hard enough to make it happen.

 

It almost feels like the burden of guilt of over trying has been a weight lifted from my small shoulders. I can brush off the dead leaves and bare branches. I can smile and not feel guilt for not sharing in your thoughts. I can feel relief as I know where you and I truly stand in our small corner of the world.

 

I can flake off the responsibility of believing it is I who has to fix things that happen in life. This is not for me to do or decide. My whole being has but one thing I must still continue to do. I will continue to pray. Pray that God helps light the path you walk on and shows you that there is a better way to find what all seek in this world.  For me, I want to say thank-you God. I will now pick myself up and search for those three little words in life called; Live, love, laugh.

 

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A Teen’s Diary


You, as a parent, teach your children to think for themselves. To learn to live independently as an adult. You teach them not to lie, steal and be untrue to themselves.

Suddenly, you notice over time that their personality is changing. They aren’t spending as much time with the family interacting. They seem to have gained new friends, but haven’t met them.

They are dressing a little different than usual and using new make-up. Are they just growing up right in front of your eyes or is something going on? After all, you did teach them to think for themselves.

Something is eating at you though. Your instincts are kicking in. This seems to run through your mind daily.

One day, you are in their room. You are putting their clothes a way and when you pull open the dresser drawer; you spot a book. You pick it up and see that it their dairy book. Do you read it? Yes or no readers?

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Story a Day


http://storyaday.org/day-28-use-these-words/?ck_subscriber_id=211865176

The Prompt

Your story must include these words; ink, previously, work, breeze, seven, run, delicious, example, spontaneous, barb.

 

Hi, my name is Mandy. I grew up in the suburbs of Chicago and today I am 19 years old and have just finished my freshman year of college at a Christian college. It was a lot of hard work; but I made it.

I watched many kids run around and have fun while I remained behind and studied. I felt a little jealous when they would bring back delicious smells of left-over food from where they had dined.

Every morning I woke to my alarm at promptly seven. I would run through my morning routine of getting ready for school. I would walk through rain, sunshine and windy breezes to catch the number seven bus.

My life was never spontaneous. Anyone who knew me; knew where I was most times. Today, I didn’t want to be me. I wanted to be free. I decided my first summer break day was not going to be previously what it had been yesterday.

I was going to mentally cross the barb wire and live on the wild side. I started my trip with a stop at the Tattoo Ink store. I looked through the examples of drawings and picked a cute butterfly. I told the artist I wanted it placed on my right ankle.

I then went to my favorite clothing store and then had lunch at a little bar and grill type restaurant. I walked more than ride the bus. I watched the birds and looked at the new leaves on the trees. I smelled the fresh air.

When I arrived home; I was tired, but it was a good tired. As I lay in bed I thought about what I was going to do with the rest of my summer. I wasn’t really sure; but I knew I would be ready for school when it picked back up again.

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No Matter the Age; We Can Still Live Life


Regrets are what she lived with daily. Too many hours spent on what could have been. Sandra didn’t spend too much time on her future. She only knew for a fact, that future brought her to her end of life.

She had a complete page filled up from last evening and as she sat rocking in her chair; she went over her list.

  1. I wish I would have not made quick decisions
  2.  If only I would have fought harder for what I had
  3. I wish I would have listened to my  parents advice instead of others
  4. I wish I would have never met him
  5. I wish I would have said something different when raising my kids
  6. I wish I would never have started smoking
  7. I wish I would have completed college
  8. I wish I would have kept my mouth shut

 

On and an she read her list, all the time falling deeper and deeper into her depression. Part of her wishes she was at her end. Other days, she stood strong mentally, and hoped for a different turn-out for her remaining days.

 

She was stuck in a rut and couldn’t seem to move either way. She was alone now. She had nothing to look forward to and this is because she struggled to make the effort.

Depression is not a fun thing to live with. It isn’t a game. It is more like being caught in a glue trap. Others offer advice; some just plain don’t understand how depression works.

I believe a lot of people suffer through some sort of depression in their lives. We are a quick to judge country today. We move swiftly through life, not taking time to ask ourselves,; is this right for me?

 

The doctors couches are filled with patients trying to go back and start their thinking over. We are now taught to look more at ourselves than at others. We have to learn to start thinking of us sometimes. It can be a good thing.

 

I know for me; I was taught to obey my parents. Even if I had a different opinion, it was theirs I listened to. I believe for me I just went into my adult life thinking of others before myself. I don’t see that as a bad thing; I just needed to incorporate my own feelings into the topics also.

 

I still love doing for others. It makes me feel good inside. There are millions of people who wish someone just noticed they existed. There are tons of things we can do for each other, in the smallest of ways and with little time invested, for our busy schedules in life.

 

There are not that many decisions to make at this stage in my life, or maybe I should say it in another way, the decisions I make now aren’t as important as ones I made earlier in life.

Is this true? It depends on how it will affect me.  Will I be happy with my decision. Will I have made myself feel better about myself. Will I be hurting myself by deciding on this. Will I be better spirited.

 

These are questions we need to ask when ideas come upon us. There is a big part of me that has asked myself, “What do I have to lose at this point? This can only better my situation for today.”

 

For those of us who suffer from depression, whether clinical or light or caused from an illness; let’s think of us, just a little. I know it’s hard, but hey, we are the ones living with ourselves until our last breath. Let’s live a little, let’s smile, let’s laugh, let’s give up the worries. Let’s reach out of our comfort zone.

 

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I Want to Live, Mentally


When you are younger than I and live a “normal” life, you may not be able to get the picture in your mind of my story. If you are disabled or elderly and confined to your four walls, you may understand perfectly.

I get so tired of the silence here in my room. I have the TV and the radio and my cellphone. After a while, those become concrete statues also. After, I run out of things to occupy my mind, I will grab my walker, go downstairs and check my mail, and if I am fortunate, I will find other people sitting on their walkers or in their wheelchairs, congregated and chatting.

I desperately don’t want to participate in this group, but I want them to save my life on the other side. I sit down on my walker and I listen and look. I look at each face, mentally comparing it to mine.

I check out their clothes, their  hands, their hair color and styles. I am not snoopy or better than them. I am comparing them to my own body. Does that make sense? I listen to them talk about the puzzles they worked on that day, what they had for lunch. Sometimes they talk about how they didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.

There are times I laugh with them, and if I can find something similar in my life that I did that day; I will add it to the conversation. Other times, I come back to my four walls and feel so depressed and almost in tears.

You may be asking, why did she move there, because she knew what type of people lived there.  That would be a good question and the answer is; I didn’t have much choice. Opportunities didn’t come in time and I needed a place to live. I didn’t want to move out of where I had resided the past year, but things happen, right?

This place worked because I am on disability and almost a legal senior citizen, but my mind is not. With having my illness, I should be so thankful for this place, but having this illness forces me to realize that life is shorter in quality of life, and therefore; I want to live.

I am not mentally ready to put puzzles together. I am not mentally ready to sit on my scooter all day or in a wheelchair. I fight back tears when I look around me and all I see are people just like those in the photograph.

I want to laugh. I want to run. I want to play. I want to live life before I am wheelchair bound. Seeing those already seated in my waiting spot, makes me ill. I want to pack my bags and hit the road, never looking back.

Of course, I want a lot of things, like most of us. For me, I want to rid this illness. I want to walk by myself without aide, but some things I have to face, I can not change. I want to change what I can change and learn to face that some things won’t change.

Does any of this make sense? I have lived over half my life and I made mistakes and I learned from some. This latter part of my life, I have nothing to lose, but to gain laughter, memories and less stress. This is what I dream of and yearn for.

I never thought different about environment except in the form of how it causes illnesses, but I now know that your every day living is also effected by what you see in front of you day in and day out. I have got to make changes. I want to live, mentally.

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Is There Someone I Can Call For You?


The firefighters raced in. Smoke engulfing anything that breathed. Looking around they saw no life. Checking the bathroom, they looked behind the worn shower curtain; nothing.

Climbing the stairs, stopping in mid-air, as they watched three stairs collapse in front of them, they took giant, baby steps, and landed on solid ground. Splitting in different directions, they sought each room.

There he was, the little boy, hiding under his bed. Flames dancing all around him as if inviting him to a special party, where he was to be the main event. The firefighter pushed fervently the bed, crashing it into the wall, causing the little one to cry.

He bent down quick and scooped the tot in both arms. Turning around he raced out of the door, yelling, ” I found him, I found him. All head outside now!” The piercing sounds of blazes licking at their heels, caused them to run faster. Hearing the splitting of wood from above, they raced through the front door.

Crowds screaming and clapping as the firefighter transferred the boy into the arms of the EMT’s. The mother and father came and were standing at the rear of the ambulance, throwing questions faster than playing darts.

“Is he okay? Is my baby alright? I should have insisted he bring his toys downstairs to play with. I gave in because I didn’t want to take apart his train track. I will never forgive myself for being so lazy.”

“It’s going to be alright. He seems to have suffered some smoke inhalation, but only minor burns. Don’t put yourself down mam. You were only doing what you thought was right.” The mother buried her head in her hands crying. All she could think of was what she had done wrong.

The EMS team worked on the tot, cleaning him up. Mom could hear one of them speaking over a speaker in his hand. “ETA, five minutes.” The police guided the parents to their patrol car and opening the back door, helped each of them in.

Silence guided them to the nearest hospital, Angel’s Mercy South Side. The EMS was ahead of them, but close enough the parents zoomed in on the flashing bubble, and they waited anxiously for the tot to be transferred inside the doors. The police pulled up next and not waiting for their doors to be opened, they raced inside the electronic, double doors.

They started running to catch up with their son, but the receptionist stopped them, stating they needed to fill out  paperwork and show their insurance forms. The mother turned to her and started laughing out loud. The husband tried to quiet her, but the wife refused.

“My child has been burnt. Do you think you could think of something besides money for a change? You’ll get your damn money, but my son comes first. Excuse us lady, we are going to see our son.”

The guards were motioned from behind the desk and pulling their pants up tighter and touching their side gun, they stiffly walked up to the parents. ” I can understand how you feel, but the staff is looking after the child at this moment. They will call you back as soon as  everything is under control. You must fill out the paper work as the receptionist has so kindly asked. We need this completed before we can proceed.”

He once again touched his gun and tipping his hat forward, he gestured the two to turn around and do as was requested. The mother was cussing under her breath. The father patting her shoulder, whispering, “It’s going to be alright. Let’s just do what they asked so we can go see Ryan.”

What seemed like hours, they tediously filled out each line and signed on the dated lines. Yes, they understood the HIPAA law. Yes, they had insurance and let the lady make copies of that and their driver’s licences. Yes, they had signed permission papers, giving the hospital rights to treat their son. They had placed their preferences of religion.

The receptionist, checking every detail, thanked them and told them to take a seat in the lobby and as soon as they were able to see their son, their names would be announced.”Why don’t you get a cup of coffee for the two of you,” she smiled saying. The husband  rocked his wife’s head on his shoulder and neither stood up.

It was an hour passing and a gentleman in a white coat, with a navy blue shirt and a bright red tie came out of the double doors. He walked to the receptionist and she pointed in their direction. The doctor neared them and asked them to verify their name.

“Please come with me.” He placed his arm around her shoulder guiding them through the double doors, into a green, cold hallway. He led them to the fourth door where he opened it for them to enter first. “Coffee?” Both shook their heads stating no.

The doctor sat behind his mahogany desk in his luxurious, leather chair. Clearing his throat and hesitating momentarily he began.” Do you have family near? Is their someone I can call to be here with you?”

“Why, why are you asking us these questions? Where is our son? What about  our son? Is he alright?” The doctor repeated himself with his prior questions. Both parents stood up. “What’s going on? We want answers now.”

“I am sorry I have to tell you this Mr. and Mrs. Miller. The staff did all they could. Their was just too much smoke for that little body. We couldn’t save him. Now is there someone I can call for you?”

“You bastard, you son-of-a bitch” You wouldn’t let us see our baby first. You demanded and the police almost held us captive wanting us to sign papers. We could have been holding our baby instead. He needed to know he wasn’t alone. I will sue this hospital, you hear me? I will sue you!”

The doctor stood up and walked around the desk. Placing his arm once again around her shoulder, he said in a softer voice.” I am sorry mam. I wish things could be different, but we have to follow the hospital’s regulations. We could be held liable if we didn’t. I understand how you feel. Now, is there someone I can call for you?”

(This story, I wrote, is fiction. Although I want it to give you something to think about. With all of the new laws and regulations, when does money  become more important than anything else?)

 

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Daily Post/ Copycat


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/copycat/

Copycat

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

 

How sad it is when two people so close drift apart over the years. This is what happened to me. In fact; it is my half/sister to whom I am speaking about.

I was ten when she was born. For the first several years; we shared nothing in common. Oh, I was fascinated by her. She was a brand new baby, and I would rather play with my baby dolls. They were able to be held, changed and fed.

As time went by, and she became a young teen, suddenly things turned around for us. She looked up to me, the older sister. She wanted to be all grown-up, so she decided to become my shadow and copycat.

At first I was irritated but as time went on, she sort of grew on me. I was married by then with my new family and we invited my half/sister over many times. We laughed so hard, talked about anything and especially boys. (She was at that age)

She spend many nights and went on trips with us. We remained close as two sisters can be. The copycat/sister relationship was awesome. I was so content. A good husband, beautiful kids, and an awesome sister.

Years flew by and our mom passed away. Seven years later dad passed away. Without going into a long and boring story, I will just say, things went so terribly wrong. Soon jealousy, bitterness and hatred were thrown at me, for being the one chosen to take care of legalities.

To this day, nine years later, my favorite sister has disappeared from my life. There is no more copycat. She wants nothing to do with me. There is definitely love on my side mixed with hurt.

Although I have tried reaching out, nothing works. My only hope now is that she come to see me; not as a copycat, but as a sister, before I leave this earth.

#DP

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So Many Questions, One Answer


For you who do not believe in God nor Satan; you may not like my post. For those who do believe; I have to speak my feelings.

I live in northern Indiana; not far from South Bend and Chicago. There isn’t a day that goes by that the local news doesn’t report at least one shooting. The sad thing is, I am not shocked.

What does shock me is; the young ages of children who have guns in their possession and are shooting and sometimes fatally shooting lives. Why do they have these guns? Where are the parents? Why doesn’t the parents know where their children are?

Why does Satan get to run rabid through our country? Why are so many college females getting raped? Why are the rapist not getting the correct course of action served? How can judges  lean left or right in order to save a soul who has good grades, or a sports player?

Why did the Orlando, Florida shooting take place? Was it because the shooter was a crime hater against gays? Was he on drugs? Was he drunk?

Why can’t people get along as God put us here to do? Why do we have to select friends, work places, transportation services, according to color of skin, location of housing? A couple of reasons may be safety or racism.

I can only speak on my own bringing up. I believe Satan has taken over in a lot of areas in our world. I believe God is watching and waiting to rescue those of us who love and believe in him with all our heart and soul.

I am  guilty of not agreeing with all the changes of equal this or that in today’s world. I may not do a 100% job of speaking out about God. I may not step up to the plate as I should. I do believe that shooting, taking someone’s life, fear, someone taking a piece of our body  by force is wrong.

We have all types living among us. I am so sorry for the loss of each life taken and injured in Orlando, along with children, parents, elderly abuse. I agree that no one, no matter what, has the right to do take other people’s lives. This is God’s business, not ours.

I believe that we as believers in God need to stand together, pray for the coming of the Lord, and hold  tight to our faith.

My thoughts are spoken, and my views are shared. Thank-you for reading.

 

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