Daily Prompt; Fight or Flight
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When faced with confrontation, do you head for the…
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When faced with confrontation, do you head for the hills or walk straight in? Was there ever a time you wished you’d had the opposite reaction?
Seventh grade for girls is filled with many hours dreaming of cute boys and wanting to date. I had a crush on this one boy. I didn’t cross the line because he “belonged” to one of my good friends.
Well, you know how it goes with teens. He loves me, he loves me not. Here today, gone tomorrow. A time came when I learned that he and my g/f broke up. I was happy inside, hoping he would notice me next. Don’t get me wrong, I was sad for my g/f, because I knew she was hurting, but he was going to find someone else right? Sort of wrong thinking but hey I was 12 years old.
About a week went by and he came up to me during study hall and asked me to go to the movies the coming Friday. I jumped at the chance and said, “oh yes!” After all, it had been a week since the break-up.
Monday morning rolls around and I am on cloud nine, but after school was over a gray cloud hovered over my head. I hadn’t seen my g/f all day but I did while I was waiting to get on the school bus.
She came up behind me. I didn’t hear nor see her. She said my name and as I turned around she swung her purse towards my face. Pow! I had been purse smacked. I think I remember standing there speechless at first.
Then I became embarrassed as I wondered how many kids saw that crime in action. She and I never spoke again. It was a darn shame. Although he was fair game, I still should have not crossed that line out of respect for her.
I didn’t say a word, and neither did she. She got her hurt feelings out and I got on the bus with my tail between my legs. No one mentioned it on the bus, but I know without a doubt, that little story did its fair share of spreading.
I knew it in my heart, that I had done wrong. Being popular was more important than my friends. Shame on me.
Today, I am still not a fighter unless you have wronged my brother or my kids. For me, if you want to dog me with name calling or trying to spite me, go for it. I will just pray for your soul and wait and see what God does about it.
If you cross my brother’s path or try to hurt my kids then my Pit bull teeth come out, and I am snarling and growling.
I have learned through Al‘s illness that not all of us are on the same page.
Words can be said the same but have different interpretations. I have to make sure that I get my feelings across to the other side. I want people to know that I am not about to play their game. I have rights, but what’s more important, is that people in general, sick, disabled and those unable to speak for themselves have rights also. I have a swinging bat fighting for them. The ball comes out as words and in the end I will make it to home base.
Life has changed, people have changed. Trust has become weak and money has become powerful. I don’t have to flight anymore. Nor do I have to fight with my body. But I can let others know that this gal ain’t a budging when it comes to someone smaller or weaker than me.
If we pretend to be
Something for your eyes to see
But then when we are all alone
We know we are not cloned
We must not hide our thoughts
Nor pretend we forgot
What truly fits our name
We must not play the game
Don’t ever be afraid
To show what God made
My thoughts are mine
And yours are divine
We are allowed to stand up tall
Never leaning into the wall
Stepping out in faith
Walking through human race
With joy in our heart
But never apart
We remain as common ground
We circle and come around
Giving hope to others
Grieving with our brothers
Treating them as we
Hope to be treated by thee
Put forth the work
Don’t be a jerk
Don’t be unkind
Let peace be in our mind
This is my hope I am proud to say
That we come together in this small way.
Remember when you wrote down the first thought you had this morning? Great. Now write a post about it.
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.
When you are middle aged
Is this the time to begin
To live and discover
Or maybe to sin.
Should we act our age
As people wish us to do
Is it to late to find
A man and say I do.
Is your life half over
Or has it just begun
Has your better half gone
And left you as one.
Do you really want to
Go to bed at ten
Or do you want to go out
And come back when.
It’s a hard thing to swallow
When you reach this point
You have raised your family
And you feel it in the joints.
Not quite ready for the rocker
And not ready to dance
Maybe just a little companion
And a little romance.
Let me live the life
That I once have done
Let me soar with the birds
Until the last song is sung.
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Oh wow, does this take me back in time. A time when I studied and had my mom go over so many words with me. I already knew that for my young age I received all A’s on my spelling. I got excellent grades in English also.
I wanted to enter the Spelling Bee in the fourth grade. In those days, I looked at myself as a winner. Anything I put my mind to, I could do. We are so full of hope when we are young aren’t we? We know little about the rules of the world. We do not understand the word evil for the most part. We know right from wrong, what time is recess and what’s for supper?
I practiced for weeks and then the days started counting down. Instead of playing with my dolls, did I play with dolls in the fourth grade? I bet I did. Well, I didn’t play nor ride my bike. I studied, now I know why I wear glasses. The strain on my eyes, too much!
The night before the big event was to happen I can remember Mom letting me have bubbles for my bath. She rolled my hair in rollers. I could hardly sleep that night I was so excited. It was like going to the candy store with a whole fifty-cents in my pocket to blow.
I hurried with my breakfast, and then got dressed in my prettiest cotton dress. Back then cotton was the rage to wear. For me today, too much ironing, give it a rest for the cotton. I waited for the bus to come and then hopped on it with a huge smile.
This was my day. The day I had worked at so hard. The day I was going to win! After the boring classes of the morning lunch finally came and went. It was now time for all students and staff to gather in the auditorium.
All of us who had entered the contest were sitting in chairs all lined up on the stage. One by one, we took our turns at spelling the words given to us by the principal. I had made it to several rounds. Oh my gosh! We are down to three people now and I am one of them.
I think I am going to faint! I feel sick! My butterflies are flying everywhere in my stomach! There are now two of us. Me and some boy, I don’t remember his name. He wasn’t in my class.
The moment was here. It was my turn. I could hear silence everywhere as the principal stated very calmly, “Please spell feud Teresa”. I smiled at him because I knew how to spell this simple four-letter word. My mouth opened, no one was breathing, and I said,” Feud, F-U-E-D”.
Oh my gosh! What had I done? I said it backwards! I knew in that instance I could not take back my words. All I remember is hearing,” I am sorry Teresa, that is incorrect. Tim(made-up name) can you spell feud”?
The kid spelled it right. He won. My head hung as low as it could. The crowd cheered me on with good tries, great job, maybe next year. I lifted my head to acknowledge the rants, but I know I had tears in my eyes as that boy took my trophy. Is that where they get the saying, Life Sucks, Fair is Fair?
Vanilla, chocolate, or something else entirely?
I am red and white and oh so cold
I come in a cup and if I may be so bold
I do not share what I doeth eat
You will have to get your own sweet treat
I can actually cost a lot
I dig for change and give all I got
I sit in my corner all by myself
Looking as if I am made of wealth
I take a bite and my eyes do spin
I think it’s the lottery I did win
I let it linger on my lips
I know I know it’s going to my hips
I make each bite last oh so long
Inside my head I am singing a song
This is a treat for me today
To ride my bike along this way
To sit here in the booth, just me
This strawberry cheesecake is my cup of tea
Did you figure it out my friends? No chocolate or vanilla for me. It is the Strawberry Cheesecake Blizzard from the Dairy Queen Ice-Cream Shop
Write an entire post without using any three-letter words.
This is going to be a very hard thing to do
Writing a blog with no three letter words.
I have to enforce my very aged brain and even some.
So I don’t sound like I have come totally undone.
What makes it worse is my brain is so cold
I just came back inside from letting Polly leak
I made my coffee, I’m waiting to drink
My eyes continue to want to remain half asleep.
So here I am placed with a drink inside me
Wracking my brain over this daily prompt
Polly is whining because of wanting to play
So I have to stop writing so Polly won’t stray.
What’s the one thing you hope other people never say about you?
My answer to this prompt is:
The one thing that I hope I never hear anyone say about me is that I am uncaring. I do care. I am passionate about people and I try to always stretch out to help someone else who is worse off than me. It may not be money that I help with, but it is a caring attitude that I try to live and extend to others.
I don’t say it often, but I think it, treat others as you would have others treat you. This is a very big sentence with a huge impact. It can carry from you to the next to the next. The world could be a better place, if we all gave a few minutes to see what we can do or how we can help our neighbor or friend or family.
I don’t do this because I am trying to get a reward, or to hear a thank-you. I do it because it is the right thing to do. I want to go to my grave, knowing that some will at least say, she was a good caring woman. She gave of herself, then I can rest in eternal peace.
Yesterday, I took Al to the local pharmacy to get some medications picked up. Of course, we also stopped at the back to the luncheonette and ate lunch also. There was a gentleman sitting on one of the bar stools, that my brother recognized immediately. His eyes lit up with twinkles, as he walked as fast as he could over to him, and said, hi. I had no idea who this was, as is usually the case when we stop and chat with people he knows. The guy was eating, and turned briefly to look at Al, then he turned back to his plate and grabbed a napkin to wipe his hands off when he had seen that Al was holding his hand out for a hand shake. The guy turned back around and gave me the oddest look, but half way reached his hand out to shake Al’s hand. Again, I got that odd look. Like he was asking ME who this guy was. Al just kept on chatting away like they were old buddies. He asked how the practices were going and the guy made one sentence period. I coach the boys. Alright, I am starting to get it now. This guy was a coach for the high school team, but I didn’t know what team yet. I could tell by another odd look, making three now in total, that he wanted to get back to eating his lunch and talking to the people beside him. I am not sure if he knew his dining neighbors or not, not really important to me at the second. I gave a small tug to Al’s back of shirt, and said to him, let’s go find a place to sit down, before all the seats were taken. Al got my hint, and slowly started moving on, telling the guy good luck and to enjoy his lunch. As we walked past him, they guy gave me the fourth and final look and I just smiled at him, feeling inside a bit that I wanted to smack him for seeming so rude to Al. When Al and I found a spot to sit, we ordered our meal, I asked him if he knew that guy. I wasn’t really sure, as Al talks to everyone, friend or stranger. He said sure! He is the local high school basketball coach! Oh, I thought, a real hero in Al’s eyes. When Al was younger, he bought season tickets to each year’s basketball games. He never missed a one, I am sure. Since I have taken care of him, and we have been back to Indiana, the caregiver took him to all of the home games. When each week would come and the newspaper would have a front page on the sports page about the home and away games, Al would ask me to print them out for him on the computer. Al has, in his bedroom, plastic bags filled with game pages and sectional games dating way back to the seventies. He takes very good care of these, sometimes, carefully, taking them out of their holder and reading through them. Al has always been a number one fan of the local basketball games and coaches. When there was an away game, Al would turn on his coca cola radio and listen to the games this way. He can no longer go to the games from his Parkinson’s. This illness won’t allow him to walk the full way into the gym and be able to climb on the bleachers, but I am sure he will still listen again this coming fall to them on his radio. I told Al that I didn’t think this guy really knew him, and before I could continue, he says, sure he knows me! I talk to him after each game, and I shake his hand. I tried to remain calm and smiley for Al’s sake, but inside was taking a tiny bit of an offense to the guy’s cold shoulder treatment to Al. I went so far on to give the coach a break, realizing that he sees Al so little, compared to all the guys he interacts with, that he didn’t really remember Al. After all, this is the big coach of our town. He has a reputation of being a good man, a family man, nice to all, wanting everyone to be treated fair and have a chance in life. Well, this is what I would think he would be like. His name in the paper weekly, the paper telling of the team spirit he carries for his players, the good things he does in the community. When Al and I finished our lunch, we got up to leave and had to pass the coach. The coach was talking to the retired mayor of our town. The two of them were laughing and commenting on this and that. I could tell that they were enjoying their time together. As we neared him, Al says to him, hope you have a good day buddy! The coach looks at him and said, you too, and the mayor nods his head in echo. I get closer to the coach and I say to him, this is my brother Al, who is one of your biggest fans. He says he has always shook your hand after each game, and that I am sorry if he took too much of your time earlier, while you were eating. I tell him that Al and his caregiver always went to each of his games, but he can no longer go because of his illness not allowing him to get on the bleachers. The coach says to me, wow, that’s too bad, and then goes back to talking to the mayor. We move on about our way. I don’t know what I was expecting from this fine, outstanding citizen of our city, but it wasn’t that. I somehow wanted to hear him actually carry on a conversation with Al, like he was doing with the mayor. I somehow expected him to have made the choice to brighten Al’s day up with a few kind words. Maybe, it is my defense mechanism kicking in here, but I feel like he didn’t think Al would bring to him any special attention, no pats on the back. He wasn’t raising the coach’s ego in any way. He was just a guy walking by, with terrible tremors, not too good of manners, but pure excitement of meeting his hero, and this jerk passed him over. Sometimes, I want to say the hell with people! I will keep my brother close to me, and shield him from the junk in this world, but I can not do this to Al. He is a very social person, who had already had his day made brighter by shaking the hand of his favorite hero. In Al’s mental state, he totally missed all the signals from the coach that he didn’t want to reach out. For me, this is a blessing. No pain here. A big smile on Al’s face as we walked out the door and got into our car. A brother and sister, blood relation, the same genes, with entirely two different opinions here.