Daily Prompt; My Precious


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

Who is the person in your life who can do no wrong? Describe this person and tell us why you hold them in such high esteem.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us PRECIOUS.

Who is the person in my life that can do no wrong? I am sorry, I can’t think of anyone who can do no wrong except one lady. I used to think there were two. My best friend, L.S. and my dad.

Now being down to one I feel so lucky that I have that very best friend who I think the highest regards for. Who in my eyes does no wrong.

Now when I was a kid, not too many years back I had a few favorite people I felt could do no wrong. Idols, who I looked up to. Visits I got so excited about. Smiles so big that they showed missing teeth. Yes, those were the days. Can you guess who they were in a young girl’s life? Let me show you by photo only. I know you will guess then.

tooth fairyeaster bunnysanta clause

A Good Laugh Was Needed Today


Today I escaped the house for an hour. I had to go to the Pharmacy and pick up a new medication for Al. Lyrica, the doctor is hoping it will help his pain while his body contracts into a smaller body.

I went by my old elementary school on my way home. I don’t know why I revisit places like this. Maybe I am yearning for my free youth. Maybe I enjoy the memories. I stopped in front of the school and had a chuckle.

It was recess time. Remember those recess times? Freedom from studying, being quiet and listening to the teacher talk on and on and on? A time to forget the world and frolic and play.

I can remember catching grasshoppers in the back yard of the school. I remember playing tether ball. I really liked that game. A ball on a rope and a single pole. Playing it with another student trying my best to get it to go around past until I scored a win.

Playing chalk hop scotch and jump rope. Even as I sit here writing I look at my life now and back then and I would have never dreamed that it was going to play out like it is. Here I am caring for my brother. I have done a lot with my life and yet nothing that anyone will remember.

I sat in my car just smiling and then it dawned on me the weather. It has been very warm for December here lately but that all changed this afternoon. Now we are in the thirties and we are going to only be in the high of twenties for a few days.

But when I was at the school it was still forty something outside. I watched the kids as they ran and played and part of me envied their free spirit. The innocence of a child not having to worry about sick people, or bills or how they are going to eat.

Then I looked down at myself. I laughed out loud. I had a sweatshirt and sweatpants on. The heater was on in the car. All my windows were rolled up. The oldies station was being heard on the radio.

As I enjoyed watching these young people I saw that their clothing was quite different from mine. Some had shorts on and sweatshirts. Others had jeans and jackets wrapped around their waist. Some had jackets that were unzipped and flying in the breeze.

I laughed so hard when I realized I was or am becoming my parents and grandparents. I used to laugh at my family because in the fall I was wearing my shorts and Mom was saying she was so cold.

Where does the time go and how does it slide so quickly without us realizing it? In my mind I am still young. There are more and more days that my body reminds me that on my birthday I will be that big scary number 60.

I watched them for a bit longer and then started the car. I turned my fifties music up. It was Elvis Presley singing Rubberneckin.  I had revisited my youth, picked up medications for a very ill brother, and noticed time had been ticking all these years. I was definitely becoming my Mother.

 

Elvis-Presley

Reliving The Days


 

Reliving The Days

Pictures from long ago

Bring a smile to my face and so

I will relive what once was true

Al and I standing under the tree in new shoes

A brand new toy did Santy bring

For Mom it was a sparkly ring

Dad smiling from ear to ear

With all his tools and gear

Crackles of laughter I still hear

As I am sitting here

Remembering the good old days

When life was good no illness in the way

And as I smile and remember back

The tears do fall upon my lap

As I see how life really goes

And there is one thing I know

I am thankful for my memories today

As I relive the old- fashioned days.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

11/29/2013

me and brother

#FWF Free Write Friday; Gratitude


fwf1

Memories of yesterdays

Wishing I could go back

Laughter and chatter

Kids racing outside

Daddy’s snoring

Mommy’s gossip

My head laying peacefully

In Grandma’s lap

Belly full yet more dessert

Today I didn’t hear no

Oh what I wouldn’t give

To see Grandma sitting right there

In her comfy recliner

Daddy laying on the couch

Aunts doing dishes

A table full of food

Candles lit in the middle

All holding hands saying grace

Tears come to my eyes

As I go back in time

And remember those days

Of freedom and loving

Now many years later

I have my own children

Forming new memories

But I can’t help but to mingle

Intertwine the old with the new

A complete life of me and my family.

Written by,

Terry Shepherd

11.22.2013

Blog of the Year Award 1 star jpegthanksgiving tablebook4free-write-friday-kellie-elmorehttp://kellieelmore.com/

 

The Talk and Tricks of the Mind


I don’t know what started it this morning, the talk. Nothing was different. I walked into the same picture I always do, but for some reason I couldn’t let things go unsaid.

Let me back up a few years to the point where Dad and Al were still living together. I would say the words that described most of Al’s life from a teen on are; anger, fear, hatred. A pretty sad way for a teen to live when this is supposed to be some of the most fun years ever.

Dad never accepted that Al was different. Dad had his own issues and the only way he felt he knew how to deal with his insecurities was to take it out on Al. I have seen Dad yell, walk a way, shake his head, talk badly about us kids. I have seen Al red-faced, fists drawn, tears flowing, fear in his face. I have seen all I care to see.

There was a golden or rotten rule as I call it in our home. Mom and Dad were the boss. I could argue or try to but I could guarantee a slap in the mouth for sassing. My opinions really didn’t matter to them, they were in charge. As Dad said, he paid the bills, it was his house.

Now move forward to when Dad died and Al had his heart attack. Our sister is from another planet I will say because God would not like if I said what I really thought. Family turned their backs on us because of money. I ended up taking care of Al from the day he had heart surgery.

Now today, six years later, I have carried so much sadness because I am the one who sees the depressed face. I am the one who is not spoken too. I am the one who can’t fix what Dad did.

So day after day all these years I have walked into his bedroom with a smile on my face and a good morning to you when I get Al up. When the time was that Al could walk and M.S.A. was not even heard of, I made very sure Al got to experience life as he should have as a teen.

I did so many things for him. Now wait a minute, don’t think I want a pat on the back because I don’t. I did and do what I do for Al because he is my brother, I love him. I am not going to say there is a kindred bond between us. That was never allowed. Al and I spent our bonding days sitting on straight chairs with one toy and not allowed to speak. How could we bond, but I do love my brother.

I would and will do anything for him possible but sometimes, such as today, it just gets to me too much. The understanding side of me that tries so hard to over-look the lack of any feelings towards me just surfaced and boiled over like hot water on the stove.

At least once a month I give in and let my feelings be known to who ever will listen. I hear the same thing over and over. You are his sister, you are not his friend. He isn’t going to treat you like he does his friends. You won’t get the smiles or conversations.

OK, I get it but I don’t like it. It hurts, I am not going to lie. Although I do everything in my power to make him realize I love him it doesn’t work. I will go for weeks trying to push aside the hurt, then it comes out again.

Today, I was bathing Al and I just had this sick feeling. Inside I was bubbling over with thoughts of I do everything for you and all I get in return is tears, snotty nose, anger, no smiles.

Should I go on? No, because then it once again sounds like I am doing something for a reward. The only thing I ever have asked from Al is that he just lets me know in his own way that he loves me too.

I had him almost completely washed and I just put down the wash cloth and sank on his bed. I looked at him but he didn’t look at me, he never does. He has never looked at me when I speak to him. He will smile at me big if he knew I was taking him to an antique store or to Wal-Mart to get a new car.

It always reminds me of when I was young and I was a good girl. I would get rewarded for being quiet by getting a sucker. So this morning I just told him flat-out I wanted a smile. He ignored me. I asked him if he was having pain, he said no.I asked him if he got enough to eat, he said yes.

So I fell into my familiar trap. “Why are you so depressed-looking then. Why no smile? No pain, belly filled, cleaned up and clean clothes.” He responded with ” I don’t know.”

I edged further, my deep questions. ” Why don’t I get a smile, just one like your friends do? Why don’t you chat with me like you do everyone else?”

His response was tears and runny nose and then finally he said, ” Because you and I don’t get along, just like Dad.”

Well that was sort of a big deep void for me because I couldn’t fix what Dad had done. I was not allowed into family issues until after Dad died. I have explained to Al for six years that I am not Dad, that I loved him. I have told him numerous times I take care of him because I love him. I told him that no sister/brothers get along all the time. I told him that I get tired just like he does. That it makes me sad just like he does to see this illness doing what it does.

It didn’t matter. He sees me as Dad. He and Dad didn’t get along at all. His life was hell in his eyes, so the times that Al and I disagree, Al carries it for life. It is me, Dad and me, me all the same person.

He cried harder knowing he didn’t really understand why he feels the way he does. I think his mentality challenges doesn’t help separate the truth from the actions. So I am still back at square one. Nothing will change. I get a little hard inside, telling myself not to get so involved. Just take care of him, do the best I can and be done with it. I tell myself to quit going out of your way because you are never going to get it through his head that a sister and brother can argue but that doesn’t mean that I am Dad.

I know this is personal, I know you, my friends can’t fix it, but I swear on my grave, I am having pain in my hands today from Diabetic Neuropathy, my body aches from tugging to roll Al over and I just don’t need a headache on top from crying, so I wrote.

Al when he was little