Daily Prompt; Close Call
Tell us about a bullet you’re glad you dodged —…
Tell us about a bullet you’re glad you dodged — when something awful almost happened, but didn’t.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us CLOSE.
I know this is personal, but it has been a few years back, so I can speak about it more easily today.
It all started when our Father passed a way. Hurt feelings, money turning from a useful tool to Satan‘s spawn, sadness, jealousy and anything else I have forgotten to add in here was the toy called destruction.
Words I had never heard prior to Dad’s death I was hearing. Actions among family and friends shocked me. Being together held by only a school glue came apart at the seams and family and friends scattered.
Even today as I will recognize my father’s passing in a few days the hurt is buried so deeply that some of it still remains unhealed. There are still names and phrases that can send me from thinking about Al and myself being a caregiver to a frightened child. Standing and shivering as if I am on the outside looking in through snowflakes.
And so it continued, off and on throughout the years. And then there was a day when I answered the doorbell that a delivery man stood standing asking if I was who I said I was. Once he was confident he handed me an envelope.
Of course I was frightened in the beginning. It is just normal to worry what this was all about and what did I have to do with any of it. It was a letter from the courts. A family member was taking me to court to try to take Al a way from my care.
Oh talk about being sick. I vomited, I stressed, I worried. I prayed but I didn’t wait for his answer. I continued to become more frightened as the day neared.
Then it happened, the day, the hour, the minute arrived. I found myself on the stand swearing to tell the truth. I had prayed as I walked to the stand. Dear God in heaven, don’t let my fear show to this stranger holding my life in his hands. Let me speak with confidence.
The drilling started. Questions flew from the smiling face. Answers came from my own mouth. Everything was happening while I stayed in a daze. Other comments were made and heard and then the end came.
The judge looked at me and said, ” This is utter nonsense. My time has been wasted. You, Terry are a wonderful sister and a good care giver. Any fool would not even try to remove him from your home. Case dismissed.”
I think I invisibly sunk to the floor in relief and tears. I went to where Al sat crying so afraid he was going to have to be removed and I hugged him. As I hugged him I said, ” It’s alright bud. Everything is going to be fine. God was taking care of this whole thing. Let’s go home.”
http://dailypost.wordpress.com, Daily Prompt, DP
Write an anonymous letter to someone you’re jealous of.
Photographers, artists, poets: show us GREEN.
It was silly and stupid if I may be so bold with honesty.
To be jealous over someone or something another human has makes no sense.
If a marriage or relationship was torn, being jealous over the new man/woman in their life really isn’t worth it in the end. Let’s face it, who wants someone who cheats on us? What if they do it again? I am not suggesting that every relationship fails when one cheats, but it is a struggle with trust in order to heal.
To be jealous over a gorgeous person should make us instead work harder at our own self-esteem issues. Each of us is gorgeous. God made us. Would he make us any other than beautiful?
Of course we can go to the make-up counters and then look in the mirror and see a stranger. We can curl, cut, straighten and color our hair. We can exercise, workout, run, ride bikes, pay for gyms, but it won’t change your beautiful heart and soul. It will only enhance the beautiful person you already are.
I tend to get jealous of people who can wear any shoes they desire. They can go to Wal-Mart and pick out a popular pair. I can not do this. In fact, yesterday I spent some time at the pharmacy being fitted for a pair of Diabetic Shoes. They aren’t nearly as beautiful and stylish as Macy’s shoes, but my feet don’t suffer in them. They are free to breathe and be in less pain.
It is my fault that I have to wear these shoes. I have been a Diabetic for 32 years. Instead of being jealous of what others have, I should be thankful I can still walk. I can still stand, and on the down side I could have turned a way so many of those foods I should not have eaten. So shame on me. Maybe I would have had bad feet in the end, but maybe I could have delayed it with better care of my own body.
I wouldn’t say that I get jealous of other people’s homes, but I do wish I owned that log cabin or big old Victorian home. The way I get through these petty issues is tell myself, if God wanted me to have that home, I would have it. Or, look at the cleaning I would constantly be doing in the big old Victorian home. I would have to hire housekeeping staff.
We, in general all have a tiny side to us that believe others have it better or are luckier than us. But in the end, we are exactly who God wants us to be, we are in the perfect position and moment God wishes us to be so we can learn and rely on his never-ending love.
In all I have no real reason to be jealous of anyone. I have a roof over my head. My bills are paid. There is food on the table. My brother is here, and God loves me, just the way I am. How could life be any better.
Tell us about the last time you were really, truly jealous of someone. Did you act on it? Did it hurt your relationship?
Photographers, show us something GREEN.
The only person I can think of that I was truly jealous of was my half-sister.
From the day she was born, she took all of Mom’s time;so it seemed.
She controlled my childhood from my age of 10 clear up until the present.
Mom got her more than Al and me. She had name brand clothing from expensive stores. Mom told me she loved her more than me. That killed me internally for years.
She had more friends than me, I thought. When we were both grown up she had Mom and Dad‘s help financially, while my husband and I struggled.
When Christmas time came, she helped her purchase gifts for her kids. I did not get that help. Halloween, another time store-bought costumes were had, while I made my kids outfits.
When she needed babysitters, Mom was right there. I hardly had babysitters. We took our kids everywhere.
It ruined part of me for many years, but then I saw something different between her and me when I got much older. It took years to see with my eyes blue instead of green. While she got everything and I worked for what my family have, it made me a better person.
While she is still living a different life, I have more stability. She is someone I love deep inside but would not let Al nor myself be in her home under no conditions. Her friends and mine are different.
Her outlook on life and mine differ. She is wild and I am calmer. She will try anything for attention and I stick more to myself and my kids.
I have wonderful friends from all around the world, and she has her own.
Mom and Dad did me the biggest favor without them realizing it. Well maybe, Dad did know what was coming.
I turned out alright. I had a rough start in life, but with having to shovel a little deeper and harder, I am proud of whom I have become today. I can walk the streets and never feel ashamed.
A little hard work doesn’t hurt us. Spoiling a child teaches nothing. Responsibilities are thrown out the window, while I cling to mine. If it weren’t for Mom and Dad’s treatment of me, I would not be able to care for Al as well as I do today.
Always remember you reap what you sow. When I take my last breath, I will do it and look back at life and say, You made it Terry, you really made it.
Murphy’s Law says, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Write about a time everything did — fiction encouraged here, too!
I was brought up what some of you may consider old school. Don’t place your elbows on the table.
Cross your heels, pull your dress down, don’t show your business.
Always say thank-you, you are welcome, and May I be excused.
I was taught that children should be seen and not heard
Manners were strictly enforced in our home. Don’t whine, don’t brag, work out your own problems before coming to us.
We do as we are told and for the most part carry most of these ground in rules with us throughout our lives.
This brings to mind a lady I once came across. Our husbands worked together and this is how I met Miss Queen.
We frequented their home often. The men would go to their corners, and us women remained in ours.
Each time I was blessed with her opening her mouth it was to brag. Bill and I couldn’t really afford this big new television but we just had to have it. You know,,,,,,the Ramsey’s down the road got one just like it. They have had it about three months now. We just couldn’t let them be the only one on the block to have something new.
Oh brother, I would think. This is exactly what my parents told me not to do. Wow, what a big mouth. But deep inside in my hidden thoughts the green-eyed monster would poke his beady eyes out, letting me know I sort of wished I had one too.
Dave and I had a nice television. It wasn’t brand new. We picked it up at a local estate auction. It was in our budget and it entertained us on boring evenings.
Another time we stopped at Miss Queen’s house I heard, ” Come look at our new kitchen. We sold our stove and refrigerator and got these. Aren’t they just marvelous? All silver and they look so modern. Just like a chef’s professional kitchen”.
I smiled and told her they were lovely. Although in my mind I was thinking what is this woman trying to prove? Our own appliances are white. Nothing special but they do the job. I can whip up some fantastic meals in my kitchen, and they were on sale to boot.
It never ended. To tell you the truth, I got sick of going over there and listening to the queens mouth. I tried to tune her out, reading her lips only and smiling mechanically. As soon as the guys were done playing with their grown-up toys I was always ready to leave. Besides I hated that green-eyed monster. I had no reason at all to feel this way.
Dave and I picked out our home together. We had made a budget and the two of us tried very hard to stick to it and to stock pile a savings account. Mom always said you two best put money back for a rainy day.
We had decorated the house for our taste. We got along fine and hardly ever argued. Dave had a secure job but we knew we could not throw money a way. After all we did not have a tree that grew money on it.
The last time we went to Miss Queens house I noticed her sitting on her beautiful couch. The men were in the other room talking quietly instead of in the garage playing.
I went to the queen and sat down beside her. I rested my hand on her shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong Joan? What happened? Why the tears?”
“Oh I don’t know if I can even force myself to say the words aloud. We received terrible news yesterday from my Bill’s work. He has been laid off?” she wailed. Sobbing so hard it was shaking her couch.
“That is awful Joan. What are you two going to do?”
” I don’t know, I just don’t know. What made it worse is when I went into the bathroom to start my bath this morning, some pipe behind the wall must have broken after Bill finished his shower last night. There was water standing on the floor. I had to actually get on my hands and knees and using my good towels clean it up.
I am just so worried. Everything we have in this house is on credit. Do you and Dave buy on credit?” I nodded no and continued to listen to her.
“How are we going to pay those credit cards without him working? I just don’t know what to do. I can’t figure out how this happened. We had it all figured out.”
” I am sure things will work out Joan. It is just going to take you and your husband to sit down and figure what is most important” I said.
“It’s all important. How can you ask me that? Everything I have is important.”
I stood up and found my husband and told him I had a headache starting. I really would like to go home if it was possible. He said goodbye to Queen’s husband and we left.
As we were driving home my thoughts went to, wow, when it rains it pours.
Everyone did their part to get the picnic supplies needed together, and after it was all done,
each went about their own ways to make themselves presentable for the picnic. On the way to her bedroom, Dahlia bumped into Drew, and saying she was sorry, as she wasn’t sure who it was that she ran into, Drew’s silky voice, looked at her and smiled, and he took her hand and placed his other hand on her arm, rubbing it, asking at the same time if she was alright.
Dahlia, jerked her hand close to her, and quickly commented that it was just a bump, no injury transpired, and she thanked him for his help, and moved quickly past him, leaving him to stand in place and watch her walk by.
She opened her wardrobe and felt each of her dresses, and picked the prettiest one out, hoping to keep Drake’s eyes upon her. She slipped her own clothes off and slid the dress over her head. She was trying to button the buttons in the back of her dress, and she heard a knock come at her door.
Knowing it was Drake asking her if she was ready to walk to the kitchen, she hurried over to the door, and opened it without asking. The voice said, that he was just checking to make sure she was alright. It had been his fault that he had not been concentrating on where he was walking, and he was so apologizing.
He noticed that she was opened in the back of her dress and he took a quick sneak peek at her dress, and taking her by the shoulders, he spun her around, and said it was the least he could do, to help her by buttoning her dress.
She fumbled and stuttered and said that she could do it herself, and she needed no help. She told him that she had been dressing herself for years, and that he needed to leave her room at once. She pointed her finger towards the door, and he, Drew, replied, that he was so sorry, he just wanted to make amends, and as he turned around to walk out, he quickly grabbed her and kissed her straight on the lips.
In shock, her hand raised and she slapped him right across the face. She yelled, get out, now! She heard Drew’s snicker, as he turned and walked out the door, slamming the door behind him.
She listened at the door as she heard his steps get farther and farther away. She found her way to the bathroom across the hall, and with great vigor, washed her face and mouth and her hands, scrubbing his touch from her skin and mind. Tears slipped down her face, as she kicked herself mentally, for allowing her bedroom door to be opened without asking who it was first.
She may have feelings for Drake, but she also needed to make wise decisions, and she vowed that she would be the one in charge of her life and not her heart. After cleaning her memories, she went back to her bedroom and continued to button the back of her dress up. She touched each hair pin and decided on the perfect one that would match her dress, and she sat down to comb her hair, and place the pin, finishing the final touches to her outfit.
She took some deep breaths, and stood up and smoothed her dress with her hands, and with her chin up, she went to her door and opened it up and made her way to the kitchen, where others were waiting so they could all leave together.
As they arrived at the picnic, Dahlia remained fairly quiet, but others were taking note of the music playing. The sounds of banjos and violins echoed through the air, drawing laughter and good times into people arriving, in hopes that all would have a good time.
All of their foods were placed on the main tables, and they separated and mingled with all the other people who were already there. The atmosphere was informal. Picnic tables were placed in no certain orders. Straight chairs had been brought in and were lined up on the outside of the tables, and a dance floor had been made in the middle of the setting. allowing plenty of room for anyone to dance.
It was not long before a familiar arm rested on her arm and the deep words were heard to be asking for this dance. She smiled up at Drake and took his arm, as he led her to the dance floor. Dahlia had never danced in her life, and felt like she had two left feet.
He sensed this stiffness from her body, and told her to relax, to wrap her arms around him and just feel the steps that he was making. Slowly she picked up what his feet were doing and before long they were dancing in each others arms, and soon the whole room disappeared, as the only breathing that could be heard was his and hers.
So lost were they in the music, that they both jumped when another voice asked for an interruption, and Dahlia recognized it immediately as Drew. Drake had no reason to say no, and he let Dahlia go into the arms of his brother. Drake left and went to make himself a plate of food, but his eyes followed the steps on the dance floor of his brother and the beautiful lady in his arms.
Drew drew her closer to him, holding her tighter than he need be, and she forced herself to move back a step. She told him that she did not like this and he had no right even asking for a dance, after barging in to her bedroom. He argued the point, stating that she had freely opened it for him. Silence fell between the two, him holding her close, and she not wanting to cause a scene or wanting to explain the earlier details, let him finish this dance with her, but this was the final dance, he would get.
She was not happy. She did unthinkable things to those who loved her. They would come home from a nice Sunday visit, she would volunteer to get out of the car and open the manual garage door. They admired that in her. She would open the door, and race as fast as her feet would carry her. In through the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboard doors, knocking trash over. If she had time, she would spin on into the living room and knock over papers. She would then walk calmly to her room and close her door all but an inch, eavesdropping on the upcoming, exciting comments. They would walk in, and gasp in disbelief as they saw the damages from room to room. She would call the neighborhood parents close to their home and question them on where there kids had been, had they been here, and proceed to tell them what happened. She stood behind the door, covering her mouth with her hand, holding back the giggles. She would watch her mother giving her new baby sister her bath. Mother asking if she wanted to help, and she, shaking her head no, and walking away. Riding her bike to her friend’s house, and purposefully not coming home on time, causing worry and grief to her parents. Forcing them to make phone calls to locate her, making sure she was safe. There were punishments, that did no good. There were times when the entire family would be excited about an outing or a weekend get a way, and at the last moment, she would come down with a terrible tummy ache. Mother came immediately, asking how bad it was, should they cancel their plans, only to hear,that she would be fine. Continue the plans. It was a terrible year for her, but slowly, with love and patience, her jealousy became under control and eventually disappeared.