Dig Deep For Strength, Wish Up On A Star

I know many of you comment on my strength, but today I feel tired. Watching and fussing over my brother. Watching what he does and what this icky disease is doing to me made me think of this song.


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Dig Deep For Strength, Wish Up On A Star

I know many of you comment on my strength, but today I feel tired. Watching and fussing over my brother. Watching what he does and what this icky disease is doing to me made me think of this song.

I am such a big baby. I have cleaned since Al has been resting. Although I am sucking it up tears are falling as I know Al and my time is limited. If I wished upon a star, would all my dreams come true? Or is this one time God is going to have his way.

A Broken Man

Door handle.

He was filled with excitement. His body was weary. He was clean-shaven for the first time in days. He had just stepped off the plane. He thumbed a ride and now stood in front of the bright red door. What would she say? How would she look?

Oh the memories of her hair, her perfume. The touch of her skin. So soft behind the ears. Wrists that were so tiny and delicate. He had not seen her for over a year. Although letters had been written when there was time it was not the same. His name was Matt and he had been serving in the military for the last six years.

He had served his country well. He had earned many pins and badges. His rank moved up the longer he served. He had went in through a volunteer program. He went in as a skinny wet behind the ears kid and came out a man.

His buddies said that he was the one that would succeed in the outside. He worked the hardest. When others were afraid during the night they went to him. He shared tears for homesickness. He cried at lost lives. He listened while others read aloud letters from back home.

He had started out as a KP, kitchen duty. He peeled hundreds of potatoes by hand every day. He scrambled dozens of eggs and buttered thousands of slices of toast. He did dishes. He scrubbed floors. He even scrubbed toilets.

He could perform exercises quicker than any other man in his troop. He had built himself a name. He had earned respect. When someone mentioned his last name, people sat up and listened.

Eight months ago Matt  was leading his troop into bad areas. Mysteries in the grounds greeted them, but with great skills they always completed their mission. This was his last mission to do and then he was being sent to another location. This was the last time he was going to lead these guys forward.

An explosion rumbled behind them and the last one following got hit. Matt, without thinking ran into harm’s way to save his fellow-man. Another explosion went off and it got his arm and one leg.

He still managed to save this man’s life and his own, but the scars of that final moment in action will be forever lived. Now standing in front of the door, he took his one arm and straightened his tie. He adjusted his hat to make sure it was on straight.

He looked down at the empty sleeve where at one time a limb showed through the cuffs. It was empty now. He had a limp when he walked but he was alive. He had received an honorable discharge.

He had made it. He had traveled many miles to be standing here. He knocked on the door and stood as tall as he could. No one answered. He knocked again, and still silence greeted him.

He didn’t have a key. He had left that behind long ago. His hand reached for the door handle. He tried turning it and it opened easily. It was quiet when he stood inside the door. He gently closed it not wanting to ruin the surprise. He licked his lips in anticipation of giving his wife the biggest kiss she had ever had.

He tiptoed through the familiar rooms and when he came to their bedroom door it was standing partially open. His knees became weak. Tears flowed from his eyes. His heart beat so hard it seemed to push itself through his chest.

He had went into the military a skinny kid and had fought with the best. He had earned the respect from his platoon. But no training on earth had prepared him for this. There was the lady who had kept him going. Her picture was always in his pocket. His memories of her brought him smiles and softened his heart.

The image had been broken. The glass cracked  the mirror in his mind. There was his wife lying in the arms of another man. He turned and took his hat off. He dropped his face. He let his limp feel its full force. He walked back out the way he had come in. Slowly closing the door behind him, a broken man.

It’s Time To Be Me!

Rocky statue // Philadelphia

Today, I got my spirit back! I got a spirit that is tougher than ever, thanks to all of the people who have crossed my paths in my lives and have hurt me in some way.

I have always been the all too caring woman, thinking of others before myself, and this is a good quality, right? Not always, when you discover that you are the black carpet, instead of some shade of red.

I want to thank those people on here that keep telling me I am worth it, worth what exactly, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, I am worthy.  I want to thank my long time friend, who drilled it in my head, that I am allowed to have opinions and thoughts, that I do not have to believe what others say about me.

I live my life the best I know how, and I take care of my brother the best that I can. I have learned today, that trying to earn someone’s love, or being afraid of someone turning their back on me, isn’t worth it.

I have learned also that I am smart, not too bad-looking for my age, lol, and I can do many things for myself. I have had to carry full responsibilities for the last five years, so I think I can figure out how to get things done if need be. I have moved several states away, and purchased homes, set up special doctors for Al, buy groceries, get the car maintainance done when required, be a nurse here at home, cook, clean house. Remember, when I had to have more people on the job to get the roof done? Well, it may have not been the most appropriate way to get it done, but I did it! My girlfriend always tells me I am a survivor, and deep down I am. I let other people’s remarks and ignoring me, tear me down, causing me to look to myself to see what I did wrong. It isn’t always me, sometimes it is others not getting their way.

Fear of being yourself, and not standing  up for who you are, is not healthy, and I have found I am getting ill from letting this continue. I don’t know who really got my attention, but I would bet my bottom dollar that God and my friend and all of you who have written your encouragements are the ones responsible.

Don’t worry, I won’t get a big head or become ego minded, this is not me, but I am going to start shrugging off the crap, quit worrying why about everything and everyone, and just live my life. God wants me to be happy while serving him right? I need to be happy for my own well being, so I had to change. I will just work on being the person God placed on this earth.

Thank you everyone for not letting me sink!


The Dark Intruder

Today. A day to be forgotten. A day of hell. It was here, all around. I couldn’t catch it, I couldn’t beat it, I could not even scream, yell, or swear at it. It filled the house with its presence, taking a hold of my mind, and trying its best to make me crazy. I found myself, covering my ears tightly, not wanting to listen anymore. I found myself weak physically.  I wanted to cover my eyes, and pretend it wasn’t there. I went to the bathroom, my haven, where no one can reach me. It followed me. I went and poured myself a cup of coffee, but it remained. The day continued on, not getting better but worse. For a short time, I stole silence. I surrounded it around me like a freezing child wraps himself in a blanket. I dove in the middle of it and sucked the life out of it, smiling to myself, as I knew I was taking all that I could. I took a moment, tuning every noise, into silence. I rested. I prayed. I felt better, but then I awoke out of my deep thoughts to it. Once again I prepared myself for battle. I felt guilt. I had just sat there and prayed to Jesus, and yet here I was, standing in preparation for war. I felt Jesus coming through me once again. Patience, and soft words came out of my mouth, as I tried to explain the many questions being thrown my way. I found myself smiling as I looked at him and saw the innocent face, and the pleading to understand. It was like looking at a man-child. I looked over my brother’s shoulder, and saw God standing tall, with full armor in tact. I knew at that moment, I was not alone. We were going to fight this dementia together.