All In Two Hours


A credit card, the biggest beneficiary of the ...

A credit card, the biggest beneficiary of the Marquette Bank decision (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have to share this short story because it really is funny now that it is over. I don’t get a chance to write too many funnies, so I am grabbing this one.

As you all know, my roof was being replaced by a brand new black roof this week! Also, at four this afternoon, it was completed. I wanted to jump up and down for joy. I wanted to eat a popsicle like a child, do somersaults in the yard, go ride a bike! The freedom of having it over was huge! No more men on my roof, no more pounding of hammers and noisy air compressors, nail guns. It is quiet now. Tomorrow, I won’t be jumping up and down, as I have to go outside and clean up the last of the mess on the ground, more bending over. Maybe I will have lost a whole inch in the waist from doing this for four days in a row.

So, the men are done, and they are paid. I had to get the air gun back to the store I rented it from by five. I paid so much for the first twenty-four hours, and then when ever the store was open for business, they also charged me so much per hour I had it. I ended up having it an extra eighteen hours, and this gave me a bill of eighteen dollars. I wasn’t in shock over it, but it was still enough with the beginning they charged first.

I went to pay for it on my charge card, when I took the nail gun back, and I could not find my card. I carefully looked through my cards a couple of times, but no card. I glanced behind me to see if I was holding anyone up and there wasn’t anyone. I looked in other places in my purse where I keep cards I don’t use very much, but nothing. I then became a little agitated and embarrassed because I couldn’t find this card. I dumped my purse on the counter, and everything fell out, including empty mint wrappers, some loose change, and a dirty kleenex. I stooped to pick up the loose change on the floor and noticed two people in line behind me and they were just watching me and smiling. Oh geesh, I thought to myself, I better find this stupid card, now! Lord, I need your help, like right now? Can you help me find my card? No response, no card, but I did leave the store with a nice cleaned out purse.

I went home and looked through my purse again. You know how it is when you are nervous, you can overlook something, and it was there all the time. Nope, not this time. I looked in drawers, although I never put cards there. I dug through trash cans, nasty, now I have to wash my hands. I looked and shook newspapers. I took off the couch cushions, and saw dirt and crumbs. I didn’t like this, because now that meant it would eat at me until I cleaned out complete couch. I shall put this on my mental notes to do tomorrow. I looked in my receipt drawer. I looked through the packet of receipts for the roof job. No dice! I finally got down on my hands and knees. THIS made Al smile. Never knew it would be that easy to get a smile out of him in this position! I crawled with the flash light looking under all the furniture, but still no card. God hadn’t answered my prayer yet either, so I had to rely on my own smarts. I didn’t want my charge card to land in some criminals hands, so I gave up and called the company and reported it lost or stolen.

The lady was nice, and we chatted for a bit. She told me how she had went to an ATM machine, and took money out but left her debit card lay. She told me the lady behind her was very honest and yelled at her to come back to get her card. We both laughed about that.

We went over my last charges that I knew I had made, and there had been no new ones, and this was good for me. She and I both hinted in different ways that it may be our ages, making us be forgetful. I admitted freely, that it was most possible, as I was so scatter brained anymore, with all of my responsibilities. She cancelled my card, and said I would receive a new one in about ten days. This is alright with me. I had not planned on using it again until I got the new bill paid off.

So all ended well. I found some little toys under the couch, a piece of candy, even a small piece of Christmas wrapping paper, and let me tell you this, I had already moved the living room furniture since Christmas and had swept the entire room, so I don’t know where that Christmas junk came from! I found some dirt in between the cushions, and I made Al laugh, but I never found the card. The lady at the lost and stolen department said that now that she has cancelled it, I will find it. Go figure!!

Can We?


Freeze Me

Freeze Me (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Does the mind have a way of protecting itself

Can we place our hurt on hold

Can we freeze words we have heard

So our hearts  don’t feel so cold?

Can we close our ears to the world

Can we shut our eyes from the pain

Can we pretend we feel nothing

Can we say we want nothing to gain?

Can I ask for no news for one day

Can blinders be placed around the  heart

Can I pretend that it is yesterday

When nothing tore us apart?

I want to live this one day

Back when we were innocent and young

When playing with a doll or a truck

And Jesus Loves Me Was Sung.

Terry Shepherd

06/13/2012

 

Dear Lord, I Have Been Busy Today


Dear Lord, I have been busy today, but in the back of my mind, I have thought of you many times.

Al woke up this morning, in pain once again Lord. This is breaking my heart, and I am asking you to bless him once again. His tears start as soon as he tries to get out of bed, and he struggles so hard. He is proud Lord. He refuses my help, as he wants to prove to himself that he can do it. Give him strength Lord, dry his eyes. Let him know that you are with him.

The day went without incident, and I thought we were going to go garage saleing with family, but we did not end up going, maybe tomorrow. Al rested on his bed most of the morning, so that he would have the energy to be able to go. Lord, I pray that you give Al strength.

My son and his family did come down in the early afternoon. They looked at the pool that had been leaking water, and found the hole and patched it. I wondered if the raccoons had been trying to get into the pool to get a drink, since the hole looked more like a tear than a regular hole. My son worked on his toys, his car, and lawn mower, and his girlfriend and I decided to build a fire in the pit. Lord, I pray that you help me to stay smiling while family is here, and not let me yawn, as this has become the time of day, I have gotten used to taking a nap with Al.

From the fire being built, we decided to cook supper over the coals, so I wanted to go to the grocery store while the girlfriend stayed here with her son. I came into the house to check on Al and to let him know I was leaving for about a half of an hour. I stopped dead in my tracks, as I looked in. He was lying flat on his back. His arms stretched out to both sides. Al never changes his sleep pattern. He always sleeps on his stomach. I waited a few seconds and then moved closer to him wanting to make sure he was breathing. Just as I got a foot away from his still body, he let out a huge snore. I just about jumped out of my shoes! I think I let down a tiny trickle also! LOL. Lord, I thank you for letting Al catch up on some much-needed sleep. He gets so little sleep anymore Lord. You know his tremors act out so much at nights that he finds it hard to settle into sleep. Lord, I ask you to bring his tremors to rest, at least through the nights.

At the store,  I picked up some nice ground beef, some corn on the cob, frozen peas, zucchini, and yellow squash, a fresh pineapple, and a discounted box of chocolate cupcakes with white icing, and some diet sierra mist. The bill for these few items almost made me gasp, but I think I am getting used to going into shock at the grocery store, so I think the cashier didn’t even hear me take my medium inhaled  breath. Lord, I thank you for helping make it possible to put this wonderful food on our table, and for letting no one here go hungry. I pray that you help others as much as you help  Al and me, and that there are no empty tummies tonight.

I took the corn and pulled back the husks, and took all of the hair off. I sliced the zucchini and yellow squash and washed them. I cut up the fresh pineapple into chunks. The corn and the vegetables I soaked in cold water for thirty minutes. After the soaking was done, I rubbed butter, salt, and pepper on the corn, and wrapped the husks around their bodies, and twisted the tops tight. The vegetables, after soaking I dried off and poured a little olive oil, along with salt and pepper and some greek seasoning. The hamburgers were formed mixing A-1 sauce, salt, pepper, and some garlic seasonings. The hamburgers went first on the coals, and then the veggies, and lastly, the pineapple. Thank you Lord, for allowing me to see and to read. Without the help of Paula Dean’s summer menu, I would never have been able to grill our entire supper.

Everyone was hungry, except Al. He is eating less and less. From what he tells me, he is tired of fighting the tremors. His facial tremors are probably the worst for him, as it affects his eating and speaking. He spills food or can’t get it into his mouth. He can not get any closer to his plate than what he already does. He ate one hamburger in a bun, and some fresh peas. He ate no desserts nor nothing else. Everyone else ate hearty. We all thought the grilled veggies and pineapple could not have tasted any better. Lord, I thank you for allowing some food to get into Al’s body. I ask you for your help on how I can get him to eat more. Please give me some ideas.

After supper and clean up was done, there was very little chit-chat as all were full, and Al had went back into the house and to his room. We all decided to call it a night.

So you see Lord, as I said, I was pretty busy today, but you never left my mind. You know my troubles and concerns Lord. Give me strength to carry out your wishes, and guide me each day. Help me to lean and trust on you Lord. You know the reasons that you are waiting to heal Al. I do not know, and I do not want to keep trying to figure it out. I have done this, and it does no good. I thank you once again Lord, for giving me this warm, sunny day. I thank you for letting me have one more day to spend with family and Al, and I thank you for the peace and quiet that I have at this very moment. Amen

Free Write Friday, June 8, 2012


Lost at sea. The ship had overturned, and all were to be seen floating, including  me. The waters were so cold, even with the sun shining hot all around us. We had taken the boat out to enjoy a beautiful Sunday afternoon. Too many people enjoying this relaxing time. Lots of alcohol and plenty of food. I can remember watching different guys trying to help the captain of the boat steer it. Running into him or the wheel. Beer spilling on to the deck. Too loud laughter being heard. I found my own self even laughing at this scene. Women and men climbing the poles, hanging on to the sails, and climbing back down. The morals were thrown out the window that day. Even couples were making love right there on the deck for the whole world to see. I remember looking over the edge of the boat and seeing large fish swimming by and wondering if I also jumped in, if I could keep up with them. Shading my eyes with my hands, I could see an island way in the distance. It looked so small from here.  What started out was a plan, a day of relaxation. What ended up was more stress than I could even imagine at my very own job. The laughter and silliness kept rising, until finally  a fight broke out over who wanted to be the captain and steer the boat. People started panicking, screaming for the three men to stop. The fun was all over, break it up, but these words all fell on deaf ears. I saw one man have a bloody lip and another’ s eyes was beginning to swell. With the men forcing the wheel to go back and forth, and crazy ones dangling from the sails, the boat tipped. All I could hear is screams, fear rippling from their throats. Suddenly thrashing in the waters could be seen, and all were grasping for part of the ship they could cling to in order not to drown. Silence overcame the screams, as I knew all of us were reliving this day, and realizations of what we had allowed ourselves to become. Instant sorrow over took me for my stupidity of this day. I had let myself go out of control. Now we were each on an island of our own, hoping and praying for safety and rescue. The seas were calm, as I floated my way to the small island ahead.

Thank-you for allowing me to try my hand at Free Write Friday

http://kellieelmore.com/2012/06/08/fwf-free-write-friday-time-place/

He Is Too Young


Respite Care Day Camp

Respite Care Day Camp (Photo credit: The Neenan Company)

Do you have any idea what it is like hearing the words, you aren’t old enough? Alright, I admit, we are seniors, my brother and I, but yet we aren’t. We can get discounts at restaurants, but if you try to get help from an organization, then you are definitely NOT a senior. I decided this morning, that I was going to spend my free time finding me someone in this city to help give me the break I so need. I am thinking at the least, two hours a week. This isn’t asking too much, do you think? When you count the hours in a week, this isn’t even worth mentioning. I started off by calling the Parkinson’s Foundation, first thing. They had no help, they don’t offer any type of respite care. They actually do, but Al doesn’t fit the criteria, because he isn’t old enough. For heaven’s sake! What other rules are out there that we have to abide by? They told me when he was sixty-five, they could set him up with some help. The advised me to call Real Services, and ask for the aging department. I hung up and dialed the number I was given. When I got to the right department, I was informed, this had nothing to do with his age. Wonderful! They would love to be of help to us. Great! The program they once had for volunteers was over. Darn it! They told me that they have reached out and no one will volunteer anymore. Everyone wants paid, and there is no funding any longer due to the changes from the President. Programs are being cut left and right for the people who actually need them. Now I don’t know if I fall in to the category of actually needing them. Need? That is a powerful word. Will I die if I don’t get some relief? Most likely not. Could this affect my health by being run down constantly? Probably. If anything should happen to me, then my medicare would gladly help me out in a hospitalization situation, but who will care for Al while I would be in the hospital? Well, I need not go further in to this discussion, because I know in my heart that God will keep me safe for Al’s sake. I am just frustrated right now, so I am venting. This is what WordPress is for, right? To vent, to get emotional support? Real services told me to contact a church. There is a church that we have attended, and Al has attended many more years than I have, so I decided to give them a call. I spoke to Kathy, who is so very nice, and knows Al well enough. She took down some information, and is going to try her best to help, but said there was no promises. I can appreciate this. I am just happy that she is making an effort to help us. I wish mom and dad were still here.

The Closet


Problem with exposure, I would have needed a f...

Problem with exposure, I would have needed a filter I guess (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

She hid in the closet, never wanting to come out. Afraid of disappointing someone again with her words or actions. She had always needed approval from someone, anyone. She had  many disappointments in her life, and had lived with  false hopes for most of her teen and adult years. No one really knew her as well as they thought they did. They did not see this empty side in her heart. She spent many years trying to win approval from husbands, children, employers. Although she got a pat on the back at times and was sometimes given a good word, it never filled the empty bucket enough. She gave of herself often more than was needed. Her issues were not the problems of others, but the problem of her own self. She gave so much that she ended up becoming a door mat for others to walk and stomp on. People would go to her with a problem, because they knew she would figure it out, or do the job required, because they knew she was too weak to say no to them. When a person hears things about them in a negative way in their early childhood days, these words not always, but can remain for years with them. It helps the child or adult to see them for less than they really are. Can you be having a rough day, things not going the way you wish they were, but yet, you can smile and pretend to the world, that all is alright with the world? Can you let people believe that you have a perfect marriage, relationship, job, children? When deep inside, if the real gut-wrenching truth were told, the world would see that you are no different from they are? You have problems also. It is how we deal with our problems that is the key. Some believe that you can cuss someone out, getting it out of your system, snubbing them off, giving up that friendship, or relationship. Some believe that if they just bend in prayer, God will wipe all  pains away. Some abuse alcohol or and drugs to forget their pain. Some blog, some tell their best friends, and even some go to therapists to let them help sort out their pain and sorrow. I went to a therapist once in my life. It was for being afraid of the dark. When I was married to my first husband, there was a time period where he worked third shift for many months. I would do great through the day time, but when night-time fell, and the children would be fast asleep, the silence and darkness would creep into my heart and build a fear that was overwhelming.I always had the same fear, that someone was looking in my window, then coming to get me. I can remember at times I would go and wake up my oldest child and have her sleep in my room  thinking in some deformed way, that if something would happen, she could protect me. I advanced from this to taking a butcher knife to bed with me. First, keeping it under my pillow, and then at times sitting up all night long with it held in my hands, until the first day break, then exhausted, placing it back under my pillow, I would fall asleep. When husband came home, he was ready to eat breakfast, and I was ready to sleep. I would get up and fix breakfast and soon after the kids would wake up and this would start my day, and I lived like this for many months. At that time, I didn’t go to God. I relied on my own healing, which was a total failure. I went to a therapist for this fear, knowing I needed help in getting over this. Through therapy, I learned many things about myself and some reasons that validated my fears. I refused to believe these terrible things about me. It was in that same year that I had found my real mother, but at an earlier time than this time when I had to stay alone at nights. I went to my mother and questioned her as to my findings from my therapy. It was all true. Our minds have ways of covering for our  painful events. We can block them out, and then something triggers those memories, but we are not quite sure why we feel this way or that. I learned that not only had my real mother  kidnapped my brother and I when we were two and three years old, but she had actually left us alone at nights, while she did whatever she did at nights. I learned that she had used me when money was short. She worked at a fruit grove and she would brag to others about how beautiful I was, and they all agreed and had to share in the beauty. Along with the false hopes and the knowledge of what was done to me and left alone at nights, I can now understand why I have a need to be loved and accepted. Is this a sign of weakness in me? Should I be ashamed to say this out loud? Maybe I should continue to carry this inside my heart.  What good does it do me to tell you, people who do not know me, of such personal things in my life? It starts a healing process. It helps me to recognize that I am not the only person who has problems. It allows you to see a bit more of who I am, and why I write the way that I do. It allows you a better insight of my thought process. It allows me to start opening the door of the closet, I am hiding behind.

Tired, Or Wrong Side Of The Bed


Ever feel like you got up on the wrong side of the bed? I am pretty sure this is me today. I got up after only having six hours of sleep. At my age now, to feel excellent all day and be able to deal with people and Al, I need eight hours of sleep. Nothing major happened today, but nothing fantastic happened either. I did the laundry, hanging the sheets out on the line. I love the smell of sheets hung outside. I did a couple of more loads also. Al has not been done anything out of the ordinary. He has talked to the newscasters on the noon news and still is tonight on the nightly news. A blogger friend had just told me today, that she doesn’t watch the news. I don’t know why I do either. Habit, I expect. It is something we do daily. Al tells them off giving them his opinions. I think he would be a great guest on a television show that is based on arguments. I have to admit news is depressing. In your own home without television, you make the best of your day, minding your own business. Once you turn the news on, you get sad hearing how priests are engaging in sexual ways with children. I heard one guy tonight that was found guilty of killing a young boy. He was found guilty of all fourteen counts. They said he could possibly be in prison for over three hundred years. To me this is silly, but I don’t understand the judicial system. Most of us won’t live to be one hundred, but you get a three hundred year sentence. Maybe this guarantees that this person will never be able to have early release.  Now, I hear that a teacher had sex with a high school student. The teacher says it was consented sex. To me, there is no excuse. We look up to teachers, priests, ministers, policeman. Aside, from the news, I have noticed that my blogs don’t do as well as they used to. Have I not prayed hard enough to say the right words? I find myself worrying some what. People come into my blog world and move on their way, replacing old with new bloggers. Somehow I have to get over and done with this stupid insecurity. It is making me crazy. I don’t want to stress out about anything more in life. I don’t want to stress over Al, or my stories, or monies, or bills. I just want to have days of back in the seventies, where the word Peace was the word for the day. I can’t even blame anyone for this. It is brought on by my own doings. I think I need a life like Bird, or Terri. They seem to  have it together. They are strong women, who know who they are. Maybe I am just tired and still need that break, the respite break. The nursing home that I contacted for the break is charging between 220-250 dollars per day. I would love to say great! When can I bring him in? The fact is though, I don’t work. I care for him, and he doesn’t work because he is ill. We do alright. We have our bills paid and there is food to eat, but we can not afford this kind of prices. I just need to face the facts. I have tried everything everyone has suggested. Nothing works. No one so far in this city, is able to direct me to someone who can  help me. God has me doing this work for Al and I should not question it, but I am tired. I feel like lying down and sleeping for days, but I can not. I rely on my blogs and my comments to keep me going. Bad idea? Don’t become too dependent on other people? I know, I shouldn’t rely on others to lift me up, but I do. Am I whining? Maybe, I don’t really know. All I do know is that I need something, but what…….

Picture It And Write it-Prompt #27 God Is Always With Us


This is the way my head feels when I have had a bad day. Husband and I have argued over nothing in particular. Kids have been picking on each other. I have too much laundry to catch up on, and tomorrow is the beginning of another work week. I went to my favorite hiding place, my bathroom, and sat on the stool, and began to cry. My stress was not at a good level, and I needed to get a grip on myself. I needed to have some quiet time to talk to my best friend God. I quit crying, wiped my eyes, and blew my nose. I got off of the stool and knelt right there on the floor and told God of my problems. I ask him to bring order to my house and peace in my heart. I told him how much I loved him, and gave thanks for his love and understanding for me. Within minutes, the tape measure unwound. The house became quiet. I could hear husband rattling around in the kitchen, maybe searching for something to start for supper. God is good. He is always with us.

One Fall Evening ,( This Could Cause Emotional Pain for those Who Were Abused.)


26b Innes House - HCM-73 (E)

26b Innes House – HCM-73 (E) (Photo credit: Kansas Sebastian)

She ran behind the house. Rapid breathing, she could hear her heart pounding and her pulse was skyrocketing. Tears were forming in her eyes.She had been sitting out on her porch swing, when three teenagers came emerging from the house next door. She had heard a gun shot, and when she heard this she ran. Her mind was racing. What had those guys been doing inside old Mrs. Wiley’s house, and what was the gun shot she had heard. She didn’t dare try to go inside her own house. They would see her. It was just dusk, and trees were casting shadows off her house. She could feel the cool breezes hitting her face. It was fall and leaves were falling. Any other time, she would have enjoyed watching this but now she stood frozen in her tracks, trying very hard not to breathe. Listening for the sounds of foot steps, wondering if they were going to  come  towards her. She heard a knock on her front door. Thankfully, her husband was at his bowling league tonight, and her two kids had been invited for sleep overs, so no one was inside. She again heard the door knock, but this time it was louder. Then the familiar squeak of the door being opened let her know that they were entering her sacred home. She wanted to get closer to see what they were doing. She wanted to scream at them to get out of her house, but she didn’t dare move.  The neighbor lady had seen me through her kitchen window, and came out her front door to see if I was alright. She was standing on her front porch, and calling to me. I could not and dare not speak. The neighbor called louder, and the men inside heard her voice. I heard glass breaking and another gun shot fired. The neighbor fell to the ground. Oh my God! They had shot her. I needed to call for help, get an ambulance! Should I go over to her and see if she is alright? She is lying there so motionless. No, I can’t risk it. I didn’t want my family to come home and find me lying dead. I knelt to the ground, crawling around the corner, trying to get as close to the neighbor as I could. I could hear the men talking from within the house, and I backed up a little. I softly called the neighbor’s name, but I got no response. I was at the back of the house and I could hear noises coming from within my bedroom. What were they looking for? What did they want? I felt as if I was being raped, right here for the whole world to watch. I was helpless, letting them do with me what they wanted. They were going through my dresser drawers. I could hear drawers being dropped on the floor. My mind could see them tearing all of my clothing out, and rummaging through my personal items, I kept hidden for my eyes only. It was as if they had torn my own clothes off and were inspecting all of my secret places. It was all laid out for the naked eye to see. I could tell by the sounds of the footsteps that they had moved now into our bathroom. All was very quiet then. Minutes turned into hours, lying there wondering their next move, wondering what they were looking for. How long was this going to continue. Since they were at the bathroom corner, I could quickly crawl over to the  neighbor and checked  on her. I crawled very quickly, not caring that twigs were scratching my skin. I bent over her and listened for her breathing. I called her name. I heard a grunt come out of her, and was thanking my God, that she was still alive. I told her to hang in there, that I would sneak into her house and call 911. Before even thinking about where the men were in the house, I raced into her house. Picking up the phone, I dropped it and it cracked. Darn it! Stupid, so stupid. I shook it over and over, trying to get a dial tone. Nothing. I prayed a quick prayer for God to bring this phone to life. I kept turning it over and over and shaking it. Finally a wire connected and I got a dial tone. Thank you God! I called 911 and quickly told them my name and address and what was happening. Before, they could say anything else, I laid the phone down and went back to the neighbor, letting her know I had called for help and assuring her that she was going to be just fine, just hang in there. I looked up to see if anyone was in my sight and raced back over to where I had been hiding. I forced my breathing to slow down, and I could feel my heart still beating very quickly. I spread myself out on the ground, lying on my stomach. I prayed right then and there for God to keep the neighbor and myself safe. I wasn’t ready to die yet. I had so much to live for. I wanted to see my children graduate from high school. I wanted to see them get married and see my grandkids. I wanted to tell my husband I loved him just one more time. Please Lord, don’t take me yet.  I was wondering about the first gun shot I heard and hoping that no one was hurt on the other side of my house. This street held senior citizens. It was the quietest street in the addition. I knew each of my neighbors, and we all kept an eye out for each other. Suddenly the quietness left and I heard the men standing on my porch talking and laughing. They were laughing about different things they had discovered within the house. I heard one of them say, ready? ready to hit the next house? I panicked. Which way were they going to go, around the front or the back of my house? I tried getting up and crawling in one direction, trying to get a peek at these men, wanting to know their next move. I made a mistake. I went the wrong direction. They saw me! They were coming towards me. I bent my head and began praying again. Please, please God, don’t let them hurt me. Go back inside and take anything, just don’t hurt me. The men could not hear my prayer as the came closer to me. They were finally upon me, staring down at me. They were snickering and mumbling how they had come across a fine piece. Better than all the items that they had taken in the house. The one bent over and touched my hair, and ran his hand down the side of my face. The others knelt also. They were all around me, leaving me no way to escape. I heard one of them asking another, what do you think! Is she worth it? I heard from within myself begging them to not hurt me, to leave me alone. You got what you wanted inside now go. I won’t say anything to anyone that you were here, just go. I could hear myself choking on my own sobs and tears but they were getting a great enjoyment out of my fear. One reached his hand down and undid my snap and zipper on my pants. I could hear the breathing becoming more rapid. I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see what I could vision in my head. The other two were pulling down my pants, and before I knew it, I was naked and they were touching me. Running their hands over my legs and finding spots that were not to be found. The men were deciding which one was going to go first. Please Lord, just let them get this over with. Let them do what they want, but let me live. I could feel their hot breath on my breasts, and their slobbering lips and tongue. I was dying inside. Lord, where are you? I have prayed and you must answer me! Don’t let this happen to me! I promise, what ever it is you want from me, I will do it, I will even give up my smoking, if you will just let me live. My eyes were squeezed tight, trying to vanish all thoughts of what I could feel them doing to me. One of the men stood up and I could hear him unzipping his pants. He knelt over me and was getting ready to enter me. The other two were saying don’t take it all, save some for us. Just as he was getting so close to lying completely over me, I heard a gun shot. My body jumped from the sound, and I felt a chill run over me, as the man stood up to zip up his pants. I heard a voice telling them to stop, this is the police. Stay where you are and put your arms in the air. Two of them started to run, and I heard two separate gun shots be fired. The one trying to lie over me dropped to his knees. I saw him put his hands over his head. The officer cuffed him, and called for back-up. He came over to me and took his police jacket off and covered my nakedness. Soon there was sirens and cars all around the house. I was put into the hands of a female officer and the questions started coming. The one man was placed in the back of the car, and the EMS checked out the other two men, and they were going to be alright. They were both placed in the back of the EMS and taken to the hospital. I was sitting on the ground, and was explaining the gun shot I had heard first from one neighbor, and then told them about the other neighbor lying on the ground on the other side of the house. All I could do is sit there. Police were inside my house, checking for evidence of what had happened here. This seemed like hours, and I was still sitting here naked under the officers jacket. I could feel my body becoming cold. Fear leaving my soul, the heat escaping with it. A chill set in. The female officer came back to me and helped me get into my clothes. Soon another officer came up and said he was sorry to say but the one neighbor had died, and the other neighbor lady was being given her last rites. I started sobbing. I had promised her, that she would be alright, and I couldn’t keep that promise. The female officer rest her arms around me and said everything that could be done was. That it was their time to go,but not mine. They had lived a good life and they were with God now. I stood up with the help of the officers, and felt my legs wobble. They were barely holding me up. The inspection was done for now, so they helped me back into my house. The police inspector came to me and we walked through our bedroom. The medicine cabinet door was open, and all the medicine bottles were gone. I looked at the open dresser drawers, and saw the bag that I kept hidden laying open. They had taken the money I had hidden for our anniversary. I was saving to buy my husband a new bowling ball and bag. The officers told me as we went through the house, that these men were probably looking for drug money, that most break ins are petty theft and this is pretty common in this city. I heard him but to me it wasn’t common and it was not petty.

These Four Walls


Managing emotions - Identifying feelings

Managing emotions – Identifying feelings (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Have you ever got so upset, and let someone else’s words hit you when you could have left it slide off your back? Do you ever think that the people who will support you the most emotionally are your family? I am guilty of this right now. I had no intentions of writing a second blog today, you all put up with enough of me in one blog a day. I had such a nice morning. I got up quite a bit earlier than Al. I had time to sit here and drink two cups of coffee and write a blog before he ever rose from slumber. It was like being in a second heaven. Now I have my nerves dancing in my middle, and I have made two trips to the bathroom already from nerves. I have a slight pain in my neck from stress, and I have smoked more than I usually do. Al got up, and was quiet. Sometimes this irritates the crap out of me. Don’t ask me why, I have never analyzed a lot of my feelings. Maybe some day when I have enough time for myself, I can do this. He didn’t respond with a hello, or anything. Maybe I am a figment of my own imagination. So he goes about his routine of fixing his breakfast, and doing his morning things. I had an errand to run so he knew that we would be leaving soon. Before we left, family  texted me to see if I was home. I thought maybe they were going to come down and redo my bathroom floor. It has been emptied out now for a few days waiting to be done. Family did show up soon after. I don’t know what they wanted as they stormed out of my house before I could find out. It is a common thing here in our house. Al ignores me all the time. I am the devil in his eyes. I want to believe that he loves me, but he doesn’t really. In his eyes, I am his mean father, the one who was mad at him constantly, depleted his confidence in himself, ignored him. This is who Al sees in my every day. You can not imagine how it rips me a part and twist my emotions realizing that I could place him at any time in a facility, that I know he is my brother, my flesh and blood, that he and I had never bonded when we should have as children. He was the special needs boy and I was going to be alright. I put myself out for him every moment of the day, placing his needs above mine. Don’t get me wrong at all, I love caring for my brother, but I could have chosen the easy path, and had a better life for myself. I have had to put up with a lot. Lies, stealing, hitting me, threatening me, many trips to hospitals, psyche units, doctors upon doctors, caregivers. Just seeing what I have written makes me tired. I am able to do all of this because of my love for him and God’s help. The ignoring me, pretending I don’t exist, sometimes making me feel like I am inhuman is the worst. If we have any company, family or friend or stranger, Al is right out here. Ready to be in the conversations, say a good joke, make sexual remarks, make adult remarks, tell anything and everything that goes on inside these four walls. The conversations we had yesterday about the way you talk and treat ladies, was brought out in the open as soon as family got here. I looked straight in his eyes, and said not now. He argued. I raised my voice a tiny bit, and said firmly, I don’t want to talk about this now because it is private and others are here. He continued to argue, starting his crying routine. It made me mad that he was pulling this crap again, in front of others. Maybe I am selfish, but I would like to have family here and be able to pick and choose conversations, to be able to decide what atmosphere would surround us. I don’t like someone barging in and demanding to take over. I finally pointed my finger at him and said, go to your room. You are arguing and I asked you to save the talk, and you are not hearing me. My family got up and stormed out, but didn’t leave without telling me what a mean person I am, and that I have no gentleness in caring for my brother. I wanted to scream. I wanted to pick up rocks and start throwing them. I wanted to run after them and push them down on the ground. I think that all of my frustrations that build up each day, and the fact that I have always believed that I give and give of myself, all came to a screaming halt. I wanted to defend those remarks, to say I am a good girl. This goes way back in time, when my sister was born. I always heard how mom HAD to come into a ready  made  family. I always heard how she only had one daughter. I did so much in my life to prove to my parents that I was worthy of loving. This is making me choke up as I write this. This is probably the most painful thing I carry in my heart. I have lived my life trying to please others. Begging to be heard, to hear the words I love you. One time when I was 18, I moved out of the house. I know my parents were upset about it, but I thought I knew it all, but when my mom told me she could never love me as much as she did her own daughter, I carried that pain with me for the rest of my life. I realized than, in that moment, that I could do all the work around the house, make suppers, and it would never be enough. This is the lesson I learned, this is the only thing that stuck with me, I was never going to be good enough. So when my family let me know this morning that I am not good enough or kind enough to care for my brother, that maybe I should consider getting a REAL job, the memories and the  pains came racing back to me. This has caused the domino effect. Twisted stomach, temporary depression, feelings of never being wanted, trips to the bathroom. I sit here now in a low state of mind, knowing God will pull me up once again, but until I get there, I am in emotional pain. All from one’s point of view, who has never cared for my brother, or who has never stayed with him, and the saddest part, is no one, unless you do what I do day after day, really knows what goes on behind these four walls.