Mother Dear always told me I had a 'nerve problem'. She told me that I acted just like her sister Alice Marie. I never met the seldom mentioned Aunt Alice, so I never quite understood exactly what Mother Dear meant; until later. I once found a picture of a very pretty woman whose eyes had a look that I knew well. Her eyes were void of any expectation, and filled to the brim with sadness; just like mine.
I never asked Mother Dear who the woman was, but I am fairly certain it was the infamous Aunt Alice Marie.
Poor woman.
Perhaps, she too, was invisible.
I live in a group home. We are encouraged to leave right after our breakfast of hot or cold cereal. The manager is not pleased if we return before late evening. I try to arrive at dinner time. Dinner is usually a boxed pasta dish with iceberg lettuce and french dressing. I hate french dressing, but I hate plain lettuce even more. We have our choice of milk, soda, or water. After dinner, we clean the kitchen. At this home, we are allowed to take a 5 minute shower every night. We may wash our hair every other day, in order to control head lice.
This is one of the better homes, because many places only allow 10 minute showers once a week
.
*When I was younger, I was in a home that had an outbreak of lice; everywhere.
I shaved my head, and stayed awake for 4 days.
I never saw any lice, but the mere thought of bugs crawling around in my head and over my body caused me almost physical pain.
The visiting counselor considered my reaction to be a psychotic episode.
I would do it again.....
For many years, I had a normal life; whatever that is.
During my last year of college, after an attack of 'nerves',,I was told by a university psychiatrist that I had a chemical imbalance. Of course, I was more accurately diagnosed later, but I happen to like the simplicity of 'chemical imbalance'.
It doesn't really matter, because when you see me on the street, walking around with no purpose or destination, my diagnosis is irrelevant.
For most people, I am indeed 'invisible'.
To 'see' us is,,uncomfortable and unpleasant.
I graduated a year later than planned with a 3.9 GPA. I was hired as Personnel Director for a mid-sized computer company. Five days after my 10th anniversary at the company, I had a severe 'nerve attack'.
After I was released from the mental facility six months later, Mother Dear took me home with her.
She kept me hidden away in the back bedroom of my childhood home.
My townhouse was rented out and my furniture was placed in storage. My employers were not as understanding as they could have been; but my life is not supposed to be easy.
Today, my department would be called Human Resources. Does that mean that company policies are more humane?
I wonder...
I managed to stay with Mother Dear for 6 months. I suppose she loves me, but I am such a source of embarrassment to my family, she has a very hard time being compassionate.
At holidays, she would insist on bringing back food for me.
I was never invited to attend family gatherings.
In case you are wondering if I made a shocking spectacle of myself, the answer is,,no. I am quiet by nature, so I sit quietly and watch the people around me. I must admit that if I make a mistake with my meds, or simply because it is the nature of my illness,,,, the voices inside my head will sometimes get louder.
Yes, I understand that the conversation I have learned to have with 'my' voices could be frightening for most people.
I really do understand, but this is my way of coping with my life.
Only twice has this happened in the presence of any of my family.
Twice,, in 46 years of living..
Should I have to apologize for what I am powerless to change?
I left the home of Mother Dear, and entered the first of many group homes over the years.
I have seen many women go home and lead normal productive lives both alone, and with families who love them.
I have also witnessed the complete breakdown of women who are lost within themselves.
The weight of depression and sadness encompasses their entire being.
Being invisible to others is often a part of being mentally ill, but during these times, the person becomes invisible to ,,themselves.
I have been unable to find myself several times during my lifetime.
It could be worse.
God brought me back..
I walk aimlessly around all day because I have no place to go.
If I ask you for food, perhaps I just need you to see me.
If I smile at you, perhaps I just need someone to return my smile.
I am not a worthless, crazy woman who plans to knock you down and rob you.
I am not a thief.
If you see me sitting in the same spot everyday, it is not because I am lazy; I am resting before I continue on my journey..
Perhaps,, I am thinking of my own hopes, dreams,,and fears.
I am human; just like you.
If you see me seemingly talking to myself, do not assume that I am taking illegal drugs.
I am not a drug addict.
I am doing my best to cope with my illness.
An illness that I did not ask for; but still belongs to me.
I have chosen this path over being at home where I am made to feel guilty and ashamed of being,,sick.
I am a woman who knows that God loves me,,just the way I am, with all of my imperfections.
And just like you,,He will never leave me.
I am a real person.
I AM NOT INVISIBLE.....
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Should Spouses Tell Each Other,,Everything?? / A Woman's Perspective
I got married less than a month after my 17th birthday. My then husband was 18. I was not pregnant; but I believed that I was truly blessed to be starting a new life with my soul mate.
Teen unions were not as unusual as one might think.
Our maturity was often praised by the older people around us. No doubt, my complete adoration for my spouse was also an interesting topic of discussion.
My mother-in-law and I were not close. She was nice to me, but she had a lot going on in her life.
She never had a childhood, because her mother died before she reached puberty. She had to help her very aggressive father raise her younger siblings.
It is my opinion that she was misunderstood and under appreciated during much of her lifetime. I also firmly believe that she gave her best to those she loved.
Within the first couple of years of my marriage, she lost her job due to a fire, her last child moved away, and she was solidly in the middle phase of menopause. She was sad and deeply depressed.
She died in her sleep, at the age of 47.
Within the first few months of my marriage, she had given me this one and only piece of advice: "Sam, a woman should never tell a man everything."
Of course, I was appalled!
I was married to the love of my life, my best friend, this perfect man, who actually wanted ,,me!
Well, of course I would tell him everything!!
My mother and my godmother ended up giving the same advice.
I am ashamed to admit that it took me quite a few years to finally realize that all three of these women were correct.
They were not trying to undermine the sanctity of marriage, or plant seeds of deceit.
They were trying to protect me from the possibility of being hurt later.
I shared my deepest fears, and inner most feelings with my spouse.
Every story, every experience, every fear was later thrown back in my face; when it became convenient for him.
It would be easier for me to trust a man regarding infidelity, than to trust him with my deepest feelings.
Is that my answer?
Each person, each relationship is different, and should be treated accordingly.
You must decide if you can trust your spouse enough to tell them,,everything.
Do spouses NEED to tell each other everything?
I will forever believe that the trust level between spouses should surpass all others on this earth.
For me, this means that spouses should be able to share everything with each other, without even the slightest fear that their words will be used as a weapon against them.
Being able to share those inner most feelings, should add a deeper understanding of the person you chose as your life partner.
Is this possible?
I say this with the strong belief that men,,do not share 'everything' with their spouses.
Women seem to accept this fact(?) without any question.
Couples should have a clear understanding regarding just what the definition of 'everything' happens to be.
Should a spouse tell their spouse the secrets of their friends?
Should they share all of the their family secrets with their spouse?
Do you tell your spouse about every purchase, such as a new book, new underwear, or perhaps a new pair of shoes?
If a man gives you a compliment at the mall, should you tell your husband?
If a woman gives your husband a compliment, will he tell you?
Food for thought.
Keep the line of communication open and active.
Keep your expectations realistic.
Keep God first in EVERY aspect of your life.
Teen unions were not as unusual as one might think.
Our maturity was often praised by the older people around us. No doubt, my complete adoration for my spouse was also an interesting topic of discussion.
My mother-in-law and I were not close. She was nice to me, but she had a lot going on in her life.
She never had a childhood, because her mother died before she reached puberty. She had to help her very aggressive father raise her younger siblings.
It is my opinion that she was misunderstood and under appreciated during much of her lifetime. I also firmly believe that she gave her best to those she loved.
Within the first couple of years of my marriage, she lost her job due to a fire, her last child moved away, and she was solidly in the middle phase of menopause. She was sad and deeply depressed.
She died in her sleep, at the age of 47.
Within the first few months of my marriage, she had given me this one and only piece of advice: "Sam, a woman should never tell a man everything."
Of course, I was appalled!
I was married to the love of my life, my best friend, this perfect man, who actually wanted ,,me!
Well, of course I would tell him everything!!
My mother and my godmother ended up giving the same advice.
I am ashamed to admit that it took me quite a few years to finally realize that all three of these women were correct.
They were not trying to undermine the sanctity of marriage, or plant seeds of deceit.
They were trying to protect me from the possibility of being hurt later.
I shared my deepest fears, and inner most feelings with my spouse.
Every story, every experience, every fear was later thrown back in my face; when it became convenient for him.
It would be easier for me to trust a man regarding infidelity, than to trust him with my deepest feelings.
Is that my answer?
Each person, each relationship is different, and should be treated accordingly.
You must decide if you can trust your spouse enough to tell them,,everything.
Do spouses NEED to tell each other everything?
I will forever believe that the trust level between spouses should surpass all others on this earth.
For me, this means that spouses should be able to share everything with each other, without even the slightest fear that their words will be used as a weapon against them.
Being able to share those inner most feelings, should add a deeper understanding of the person you chose as your life partner.
Is this possible?
I say this with the strong belief that men,,do not share 'everything' with their spouses.
Women seem to accept this fact(?) without any question.
Couples should have a clear understanding regarding just what the definition of 'everything' happens to be.
Should a spouse tell their spouse the secrets of their friends?
Should they share all of the their family secrets with their spouse?
Do you tell your spouse about every purchase, such as a new book, new underwear, or perhaps a new pair of shoes?
If a man gives you a compliment at the mall, should you tell your husband?
If a woman gives your husband a compliment, will he tell you?
Food for thought.
Keep the line of communication open and active.
Keep your expectations realistic.
Keep God first in EVERY aspect of your life.
Maneuvering the Mysteries of Mid-Life/ My Perspective
A person will live through many seasons during their lifetime. If we take the time to use the wisdom of our elders, our experiences would likely be easier and more productive.
But,,,since we enter our most important season as a young adult, or at least we are often in the role of an adult, we are convinced that we have all the answers.
My perspective is from the view of a woman who, by the grace of God, has managed to survive both the 'calm' and the 'storms' of many seasons.
Generally, the time period between the ages of 45-65 is considered to be midlife. I suspect that as baby boomers continue to age, the ages will change to make more people feel,,,better??
The beginning of my midlife experience was full of drama. The actual physical changes brought on by menopause were lost within the many storms. I remember my emotions being a mess; but the direction of my life was painful,,at best. I often felt as I imagine a person riding a raging bull would feel.
I survived.
The topic of menopause has been beat to death. Women have always sought the counsel of other women to help guide them through what can be both a physical and emotional roller coaster.
There is a wealth of information that is readily available for women and their families
.
The challenges women face before, during and after menopause are real; not imagined.
It would be wise for her husband and children to find out how they can make her transition easier,,,for the entire family.
Again, knowledge is power.
Many women are also faced with serious health conditions during this time in their life. This is strictly an observation of the frequency of occurrences among my peers; including family and friends.
As we get older, we are forced to come face to face with our mortality.
Women also take the time to reflect on their lives. A woman is prone to take a closer at 'who' she is, rather than the obvious physical changes that the media constantly throws in her face.
Men and Midlife
When little girls hit puberty, the topic is not hidden away or whispered about. Even now, the 'becoming a woman' message is still being passed along.
Hopefully, young mothers are savvy enough to prepare their daughters for the hormonal changes that will continue throughout their lifetime.
Most men are clueless regarding hormones until their wife has a hot flash, or bursts out crying for no apparent reason.
Since men have never had a period, been pregnant, or given birth, he is unable to relate to the power of hormones.
Some seem to find the topic somewhat amusing.
How many men are prepared for the physical changes that will happen to their bodies during the aging process?
How many men are prepared for the emotional changes they will face during the aging process?
I suspect the answer to both questions is the same: Very few.
Why?
Because men refuse to accept that 'male menopause' is a fact of their lives.
Older women have always said that a woman who is full of drama before menopause will be three times more dramatic during menopause.
My experience has taught me that the same is often true regarding men.
If he has always been delusional and paranoid; he will be off the charts during midlife.
He will also take time to reflect on his life.
The question will soon become whether his glass is half full or simply,,,empty.
He will often seek someone to stroke his spirit, his ego, and,,his penis.
He is afraid to ask himself if maybe, just maybe he is not as,,,firm as he once was??
He and his male friends don't discuss such horrors.
His wife loves him too much to tell him about,,,the changes in his body and stamina.
A man whose manhood is stored within his penis, will fear the entire aging process.
He will fight tooth and nail to slow the process down.
When he is forced to accept changes, he just might blame his wife.
Why?
Because it is easier to blame her than accept what,,is usually a natural experience.
For many men, this is also a time when serious health issues become reality.
Prostate problems can break a man's spirit as well as his body.
*What most men fail to realize is that if he has a woman in his life who genuinely loves him, she will love him throughout their journey.
He does not have to face his challenges or fears alone.
She will support him and adjust her needs to blend with both his needs and his ability
Most mature women need loving intimacy more than they need a rock hard penis.
One of the beautiful aspects of a couple growing old together, is the experience of making the journey together; any journey.
*Most women say the most difficult challenge is being faced with the sadness that many men feel because they feel they have lost their manhood.
If men would just give their women a chance to prove that their manhood has little to do with their sexual abilities.
A man's manhood lives in the core of his spirit.
Our spirits only grow stronger as we grow older.
If we all could can embrace this lesson, our lives would likely be more meaningful.
Nothing is as firm as it used to be, our bodies shift in ways that can leave your speechless. You can either laugh or cry.
How wonderful to be able to do either,,together.
The early seasons of our lives are filled with growing. We make many mistakes, and hopefully, learn enough along the way, not to make those same mistakes again.
We raise our children and pray that we did not scar them beyond repair.
We work hard to prepare a foundation for what is yet to come.
I firmly believe that how we handle our middle years will greatly affect our senior years.
For me, the adjustments I was faced with during my middle seasons has fine tuned all of the life lessons I have learned during my lifetime.
I believe that God gives us a chance to put all of our trust in Him as we ride out the storms that will shake our core.
If we can just hold on to God, we can coast safely along the path that will lead us to our next season.
It is during this season that we will fully reap the blessings from the garden we have sown.
.
But,,,since we enter our most important season as a young adult, or at least we are often in the role of an adult, we are convinced that we have all the answers.
My perspective is from the view of a woman who, by the grace of God, has managed to survive both the 'calm' and the 'storms' of many seasons.
Generally, the time period between the ages of 45-65 is considered to be midlife. I suspect that as baby boomers continue to age, the ages will change to make more people feel,,,better??
The beginning of my midlife experience was full of drama. The actual physical changes brought on by menopause were lost within the many storms. I remember my emotions being a mess; but the direction of my life was painful,,at best. I often felt as I imagine a person riding a raging bull would feel.
I survived.
The topic of menopause has been beat to death. Women have always sought the counsel of other women to help guide them through what can be both a physical and emotional roller coaster.
There is a wealth of information that is readily available for women and their families
.
The challenges women face before, during and after menopause are real; not imagined.
It would be wise for her husband and children to find out how they can make her transition easier,,,for the entire family.
Again, knowledge is power.
Many women are also faced with serious health conditions during this time in their life. This is strictly an observation of the frequency of occurrences among my peers; including family and friends.
As we get older, we are forced to come face to face with our mortality.
Women also take the time to reflect on their lives. A woman is prone to take a closer at 'who' she is, rather than the obvious physical changes that the media constantly throws in her face.
Men and Midlife
When little girls hit puberty, the topic is not hidden away or whispered about. Even now, the 'becoming a woman' message is still being passed along.
Hopefully, young mothers are savvy enough to prepare their daughters for the hormonal changes that will continue throughout their lifetime.
Most men are clueless regarding hormones until their wife has a hot flash, or bursts out crying for no apparent reason.
Since men have never had a period, been pregnant, or given birth, he is unable to relate to the power of hormones.
Some seem to find the topic somewhat amusing.
How many men are prepared for the physical changes that will happen to their bodies during the aging process?
How many men are prepared for the emotional changes they will face during the aging process?
I suspect the answer to both questions is the same: Very few.
Why?
Because men refuse to accept that 'male menopause' is a fact of their lives.
Older women have always said that a woman who is full of drama before menopause will be three times more dramatic during menopause.
My experience has taught me that the same is often true regarding men.
If he has always been delusional and paranoid; he will be off the charts during midlife.
He will also take time to reflect on his life.
The question will soon become whether his glass is half full or simply,,,empty.
He will often seek someone to stroke his spirit, his ego, and,,his penis.
He is afraid to ask himself if maybe, just maybe he is not as,,,firm as he once was??
He and his male friends don't discuss such horrors.
His wife loves him too much to tell him about,,,the changes in his body and stamina.
A man whose manhood is stored within his penis, will fear the entire aging process.
He will fight tooth and nail to slow the process down.
When he is forced to accept changes, he just might blame his wife.
Why?
Because it is easier to blame her than accept what,,is usually a natural experience.
For many men, this is also a time when serious health issues become reality.
Prostate problems can break a man's spirit as well as his body.
*What most men fail to realize is that if he has a woman in his life who genuinely loves him, she will love him throughout their journey.
He does not have to face his challenges or fears alone.
She will support him and adjust her needs to blend with both his needs and his ability
Most mature women need loving intimacy more than they need a rock hard penis.
One of the beautiful aspects of a couple growing old together, is the experience of making the journey together; any journey.
*Most women say the most difficult challenge is being faced with the sadness that many men feel because they feel they have lost their manhood.
If men would just give their women a chance to prove that their manhood has little to do with their sexual abilities.
A man's manhood lives in the core of his spirit.
Our spirits only grow stronger as we grow older.
If we all could can embrace this lesson, our lives would likely be more meaningful.
Nothing is as firm as it used to be, our bodies shift in ways that can leave your speechless. You can either laugh or cry.
How wonderful to be able to do either,,together.
The early seasons of our lives are filled with growing. We make many mistakes, and hopefully, learn enough along the way, not to make those same mistakes again.
We raise our children and pray that we did not scar them beyond repair.
We work hard to prepare a foundation for what is yet to come.
I firmly believe that how we handle our middle years will greatly affect our senior years.
For me, the adjustments I was faced with during my middle seasons has fine tuned all of the life lessons I have learned during my lifetime.
I believe that God gives us a chance to put all of our trust in Him as we ride out the storms that will shake our core.
If we can just hold on to God, we can coast safely along the path that will lead us to our next season.
It is during this season that we will fully reap the blessings from the garden we have sown.
.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Birthday Thanks To My Son/ The Perspective of This Mother
When you look in the mirror on the morning of your 43rd birthday, look into your eyes and know that on the morning following your birth, my life changed forever.
Your eyes were the first ones that I ever looked into and felt total acceptance,,of me.
I have never had the words to describe my feelings.
Love in the most basic form..
So what can you give someone who does not really need a traditional 'Birthday Gift'?
I have decided to share with you just a few of your 'gifts' that I am most thankful for...
Thank you,,,,for loving me.
Thank you,,,,for being able to see beneath my surface and understand who I am. How many children fully understand how well they know their parents?
Thank you,,,,for recognizing that " I have always been more than just someones wife and the mother of my children." Your words; not mine.
Thank you,,,,for your total trust and acceptance that my love for you is ,,unconditional and forever.
Thank you,,,,for being a man who embraces all of who he is. You have always known that life was not meant to be lived with a closed mind or restricted vision. You were born a happy baby who loved life. I pray that you always acknowledge and embrace that beautiful little boy whose eyes were always smiling.
Thank you,,,,for managing to be a 6'5'' intelligent, handsome, spiritual, productive man, and still remain humble and compassionate, in a world where compassion is often seen as a weakness. You manage to blend being big and strong with warm, gentle and kind. You will probably never grasp just how well this combination works in your life as well as in the lives of others.
Thank you,,,,for having the fortitude to face the ever present challenges and obstacles of life with the clear understanding that God has always been and will always be your refuge and your strength.
Thank you,,,for being a husband who is not afraid to love his wife in the manner in which she deserves to be loved. You delight in making her life a blessing. She returns your blessing by not only loving you, but genuinely appreciating the man that you are.
Thank you,,,for being an amazing father. One who will listen to his children as he teaches them priceless life lessons. You give your children the very best of who you are; which is the best that any parent can do.
Thank you,,,,for being man enough to realize that life is full of constant changes that must be viewed as opportunities for growth. Without change, there is no growth. Without growth, there is no room for wisdom to become a part of who you are.
Thank you,,,,for loving your 'little sister' with a love that will be forever. The love that you have for each other gives me,,peace.
When I look into your eyes today, I can still see your acceptance,,,and your love
Thank you!..
.
You are one of God's priceless examples of His love for me..
Thank you Ty, for being my son.
Your eyes were the first ones that I ever looked into and felt total acceptance,,of me.
I have never had the words to describe my feelings.
Love in the most basic form..
So what can you give someone who does not really need a traditional 'Birthday Gift'?
I have decided to share with you just a few of your 'gifts' that I am most thankful for...
Thank you,,,,for loving me.
Thank you,,,,for being able to see beneath my surface and understand who I am. How many children fully understand how well they know their parents?
Thank you,,,,for recognizing that " I have always been more than just someones wife and the mother of my children." Your words; not mine.
Thank you,,,,for your total trust and acceptance that my love for you is ,,unconditional and forever.
Thank you,,,,for being a man who embraces all of who he is. You have always known that life was not meant to be lived with a closed mind or restricted vision. You were born a happy baby who loved life. I pray that you always acknowledge and embrace that beautiful little boy whose eyes were always smiling.
Thank you,,,,for managing to be a 6'5'' intelligent, handsome, spiritual, productive man, and still remain humble and compassionate, in a world where compassion is often seen as a weakness. You manage to blend being big and strong with warm, gentle and kind. You will probably never grasp just how well this combination works in your life as well as in the lives of others.
Thank you,,,,for having the fortitude to face the ever present challenges and obstacles of life with the clear understanding that God has always been and will always be your refuge and your strength.
Thank you,,,for being a husband who is not afraid to love his wife in the manner in which she deserves to be loved. You delight in making her life a blessing. She returns your blessing by not only loving you, but genuinely appreciating the man that you are.
Thank you,,,for being an amazing father. One who will listen to his children as he teaches them priceless life lessons. You give your children the very best of who you are; which is the best that any parent can do.
Thank you,,,,for being man enough to realize that life is full of constant changes that must be viewed as opportunities for growth. Without change, there is no growth. Without growth, there is no room for wisdom to become a part of who you are.
Thank you,,,,for loving your 'little sister' with a love that will be forever. The love that you have for each other gives me,,peace.
When I look into your eyes today, I can still see your acceptance,,,and your love
Thank you!..
.
You are one of God's priceless examples of His love for me..
Thank you Ty, for being my son.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Life Lesson Of An 8 Year Old / My Perspective,,My Story by Sammye Kaye
I believe we have the ability to choose how our early life lessons impact our lives. Even sad or scary memories can become positive guide posts we can use along the way.
The year I turned eight years old was an eventful time in my life. I entered 3rd grade still hating school. I was not 'growing out' of my stuttering as predicted by a select few.
I met my oldest and dearest friend Ann that year, so I spent a little less time dreading my time spent in school.
On this particular winter school day, I remember feeling happy as I talked with May, the little girl who sat one seat over. We were both startled when our teacher, Miss Price almost yelled at us to be quiet. Both May and I were usually well behaved, so we were both shaken by the outburst and embarrassed by the giggles of the other children.
For some reason that I have yet to understand, I felt responsible for us getting in trouble. I decided to write May a note asking her if she was mad at me. I carefully folded the tiny piece of paper and gave it to Ken, the boy who sat next to me, to pass to May.
To my horror, he jumped up from his seat and took the note directly to Miss Price!
I was immediately called to the front of the room and given several hard pops with the wide leather strap that she keep on her desk.
Of course, I was mortified, and the whipping hurt,,a lot.
I refused to cry. I think maybe I was simply too angry to allow my tears to flow.
I did not believe I deserved a whipping; I still do not believe the punishment fit the 'crime'.
On the way back to my seat, I looked at the smile on Ken's face and wanted to knock him out of his chair. And in case you are wondering, whenever I see him, I can still see the smirk on his face.
I should probably pray about that.
As I sat in my seat, filled with more embarrassment, wounded feelings and a throbbing behind, I wished Miss Price would just disappear.
I made it through the day, and the 'fussin' I got from Momma, who of course, knew Miss Price well enough to be on her side. At least, that is how I felt at the time.
The next morning, Miss Price was not at her desk when we entered our room. The class was unattended long enough for the boys to be running wild by the time the teacher from next door finally came to check on us.
We knew something was off, because she did not yell at the boys jumping around the room. We soon realized that she was crying.
She tearfully informed us that Miss Price had died during the night.
I was instantly filled with guilt. I was certain that it was my fault she was dead.
Well, I had to be since I wanted her to disappear.
By the time I got home, more details were available.
Poor Miss Price, who lived alone, had died while sitting in front of her space heater. I remember feeling sick when we were told that her legs were burned during the night.
With my imagination, I had many nights of scary images of her sitting in her chair with charred legs.
I cannot begin to explain my 8 year old feelings. I felt sad, guilty and very much afraid.
After crying alone, I finally told Momma that it was my fault. Her assurances that my being mad at her would not cause her horrible death, fell on deaf ears..
It took me many years to believe my mother's words.
The funeral for Miss Price was quite grand. It was in the huge elaborate high school auditorium and since we were her class, we had to sit up front with her casket.
We sat there for hours.
I was scared to death, and almost felt punished enough for my thoughts.
Almost.
I have purposely blocked out the rest of my 3rd grade school year. I have tried in vain to remember the name of the teacher who took over our class.
I will have to ask Ann, who is still my dearest friend.
No matter what type of grief a person causes me, or how wrong I know they are, I never wish for revenge of any kind.
Not even in the form of dark thoughts.
I will never forget the pain and weight of the guilt I felt as that little girl.
I understand that the thoughts of a child can do little harm..
Except to that child.
The power of words and expression can be negative or positive.
I made the choice to seek the positive path, all those years ago.
Lesson learned..
The year I turned eight years old was an eventful time in my life. I entered 3rd grade still hating school. I was not 'growing out' of my stuttering as predicted by a select few.
I met my oldest and dearest friend Ann that year, so I spent a little less time dreading my time spent in school.
On this particular winter school day, I remember feeling happy as I talked with May, the little girl who sat one seat over. We were both startled when our teacher, Miss Price almost yelled at us to be quiet. Both May and I were usually well behaved, so we were both shaken by the outburst and embarrassed by the giggles of the other children.
For some reason that I have yet to understand, I felt responsible for us getting in trouble. I decided to write May a note asking her if she was mad at me. I carefully folded the tiny piece of paper and gave it to Ken, the boy who sat next to me, to pass to May.
To my horror, he jumped up from his seat and took the note directly to Miss Price!
I was immediately called to the front of the room and given several hard pops with the wide leather strap that she keep on her desk.
Of course, I was mortified, and the whipping hurt,,a lot.
I refused to cry. I think maybe I was simply too angry to allow my tears to flow.
I did not believe I deserved a whipping; I still do not believe the punishment fit the 'crime'.
On the way back to my seat, I looked at the smile on Ken's face and wanted to knock him out of his chair. And in case you are wondering, whenever I see him, I can still see the smirk on his face.
I should probably pray about that.
As I sat in my seat, filled with more embarrassment, wounded feelings and a throbbing behind, I wished Miss Price would just disappear.
I made it through the day, and the 'fussin' I got from Momma, who of course, knew Miss Price well enough to be on her side. At least, that is how I felt at the time.
The next morning, Miss Price was not at her desk when we entered our room. The class was unattended long enough for the boys to be running wild by the time the teacher from next door finally came to check on us.
We knew something was off, because she did not yell at the boys jumping around the room. We soon realized that she was crying.
She tearfully informed us that Miss Price had died during the night.
I was instantly filled with guilt. I was certain that it was my fault she was dead.
Well, I had to be since I wanted her to disappear.
By the time I got home, more details were available.
Poor Miss Price, who lived alone, had died while sitting in front of her space heater. I remember feeling sick when we were told that her legs were burned during the night.
With my imagination, I had many nights of scary images of her sitting in her chair with charred legs.
I cannot begin to explain my 8 year old feelings. I felt sad, guilty and very much afraid.
After crying alone, I finally told Momma that it was my fault. Her assurances that my being mad at her would not cause her horrible death, fell on deaf ears..
It took me many years to believe my mother's words.
The funeral for Miss Price was quite grand. It was in the huge elaborate high school auditorium and since we were her class, we had to sit up front with her casket.
We sat there for hours.
I was scared to death, and almost felt punished enough for my thoughts.
Almost.
I have purposely blocked out the rest of my 3rd grade school year. I have tried in vain to remember the name of the teacher who took over our class.
I will have to ask Ann, who is still my dearest friend.
No matter what type of grief a person causes me, or how wrong I know they are, I never wish for revenge of any kind.
Not even in the form of dark thoughts.
I will never forget the pain and weight of the guilt I felt as that little girl.
I understand that the thoughts of a child can do little harm..
Except to that child.
The power of words and expression can be negative or positive.
I made the choice to seek the positive path, all those years ago.
Lesson learned..
Thursday, January 10, 2013
The 'Nana' Diaries/ A Nana's Perspective
Soon after my daughter was born, while listening to a radio talk show, one of the guests stated that she loved her grandchildren more than she loved her children. She seemed to be filled with emotion as she tearfully professed her love.
Frankly, I was speechless.
I had a 5 year old son and a newborn daughter. I knew without a doubt that I could never love anyone more than my children.
I have three beautiful granddaughters and one beautiful grandson.
I am in no way surprised that I love them just as much as I love their parents.
There are no words to describe my love for any of them. Period.
Honestly, I expected my Nana experience to be much different from my reality. I certainly did not expect to be a 'single Nana'. I planned on bringing my little babies to my home to spend the entire summer, and Thanksgiving. I believe children should wake up in their own beds on Christmas morning.
The days and nights would be filled with small town experiences and visits to seldom seen relatives.
My plan was to take them shopping for school clothes each year until they entered middle school.
I would teach them to make homemade cookies and decorate elaborate cakes for special occasions.
I would take the girls to my hair stylist and help their mothers teach them how to manage their hair.
Moving right along to my reality...
My apartment was not the most interesting place to visit for children who lived in spacious homes with plenty of room to play.
My medical condition made it impossible to accrue vacation time,,period. I worked most weekends, so time together was always limited.
I spent a long time feeling sad because I was not in a position to be the Nana that I planned to be.
One day I finally realized that the 'other' Nana would have been only a shadow of who I am today.
The truth is simple.
Children have little interest in baking homemade cookies. The frozen cookies on the market today taste just fine.
Their parents take them on vacation and plan summer activities with their peers.
They have no interest in being bored a major portion of the summer, while their grandparents try in vain to raise them exactly as they raised their parents.
I could never afford to buy their school clothes; thankfully, their parents are more than able to take care of their children on a level that is completely foreign to me.
None of my grandchildren have ever seen my hair long and straight. They have only seen it long and locked.
They accept the fact that I look and dress different than most of their friend's grandmothers.
However, they have listened to my audio stories, my poetry and seen me portray multiple characters in plays written by their Nana.
I can nurture their creative spirits in ways that would not have been possible with the 'other' Nana.
I can talk to them in a way that I could not practice with their parents, because I do not have the responsibility of being 'the parent'.
They can talk to me and know that I will always have time to listen with the ears and special understanding of,, their Nana.
My grandchildren are being raised by parents who have taken the best of how they were raised and fine tuned the lessons to fit the challenges of today.
My children are excellent parents.
Their children, my grandchildren,,, are beautiful, intelligent, respectful, and compassionate,
When I hold my grand babies in my arms and look into their eyes, the familiar feeling of love that swells my heart when I look at my babies, blends perfectly to warm my soul.
I sometimes think about the 'other' Nana, but not very often.
God's will is just that,,God's will.
The course of my life has gone according to His will.
The "Nana' that I am is the 'Nana' I am supposed to be.
Frankly, I was speechless.
I had a 5 year old son and a newborn daughter. I knew without a doubt that I could never love anyone more than my children.
I have three beautiful granddaughters and one beautiful grandson.
I am in no way surprised that I love them just as much as I love their parents.
There are no words to describe my love for any of them. Period.
Honestly, I expected my Nana experience to be much different from my reality. I certainly did not expect to be a 'single Nana'. I planned on bringing my little babies to my home to spend the entire summer, and Thanksgiving. I believe children should wake up in their own beds on Christmas morning.
The days and nights would be filled with small town experiences and visits to seldom seen relatives.
My plan was to take them shopping for school clothes each year until they entered middle school.
I would teach them to make homemade cookies and decorate elaborate cakes for special occasions.
I would take the girls to my hair stylist and help their mothers teach them how to manage their hair.
Moving right along to my reality...
My apartment was not the most interesting place to visit for children who lived in spacious homes with plenty of room to play.
My medical condition made it impossible to accrue vacation time,,period. I worked most weekends, so time together was always limited.
I spent a long time feeling sad because I was not in a position to be the Nana that I planned to be.
One day I finally realized that the 'other' Nana would have been only a shadow of who I am today.
The truth is simple.
Children have little interest in baking homemade cookies. The frozen cookies on the market today taste just fine.
Their parents take them on vacation and plan summer activities with their peers.
They have no interest in being bored a major portion of the summer, while their grandparents try in vain to raise them exactly as they raised their parents.
I could never afford to buy their school clothes; thankfully, their parents are more than able to take care of their children on a level that is completely foreign to me.
None of my grandchildren have ever seen my hair long and straight. They have only seen it long and locked.
They accept the fact that I look and dress different than most of their friend's grandmothers.
However, they have listened to my audio stories, my poetry and seen me portray multiple characters in plays written by their Nana.
I can nurture their creative spirits in ways that would not have been possible with the 'other' Nana.
I can talk to them in a way that I could not practice with their parents, because I do not have the responsibility of being 'the parent'.
They can talk to me and know that I will always have time to listen with the ears and special understanding of,, their Nana.
My grandchildren are being raised by parents who have taken the best of how they were raised and fine tuned the lessons to fit the challenges of today.
My children are excellent parents.
Their children, my grandchildren,,, are beautiful, intelligent, respectful, and compassionate,
When I hold my grand babies in my arms and look into their eyes, the familiar feeling of love that swells my heart when I look at my babies, blends perfectly to warm my soul.
I sometimes think about the 'other' Nana, but not very often.
God's will is just that,,God's will.
The course of my life has gone according to His will.
The "Nana' that I am is the 'Nana' I am supposed to be.
Is Being Sexy Real or Imagined? / A Woman's Perspective
What is your definition of sexy?
While doing research for a male character, I realized just how complicated the answer to this question can be, for both males and females.
Several years ago, I had a quote on my desk saying confidence was the sexiest attribute of a woman. A male friend ( and a few females) laughed and said the statement was far from the truth. I was not surprised by his reaction, since men tend to be primarily focused on how the visual experience might be physically stimulating for them.
The same is often true for women. Many woman are just as moved by 'eye candy' as the average man. The older the woman, the less important the tall, dark, handsome, chiseled body becomes.
The mature woman will be equally moved by a confident, well versed man who is comfortable in his own skin.
As men get older, their focus on the physical beauty of a woman basically remains the same, but it is also possible that the more mature man will learn how to genuinely appreciate the inner beauty of a woman.
Men have shared surprising examples of when their women are sexiest..
No make-up, jeans, simple shirt, hair in a ponytail that is pulled through the back of a baseball cap.
Rocking her baby to sleep.
Asleep with baby in her arms.
Mowing the grass.
Wearing sweaty exercise attire.
He washes her hair.
She is curled up in his favorite chair.
She walks with the confidence of a woman who loves herself.
She gives him a simple smile,,,just because.
When a woman is confident, her positive inner feelings about herself will be visible on the outside.
She will stand tall, walk straight and live in that moment.
She is not attempting to impress anyone else, just embrace who she is.
Is being sexy more than a well toned body dressed in a revealing outfit?
Like beauty, is sexy simply in the eye of the beholder?
Sexy is not a word that should be viewed as crass and vulgar.
It is quite possible for a woman to be both classy and sexy.
.
While doing research for a male character, I realized just how complicated the answer to this question can be, for both males and females.
Several years ago, I had a quote on my desk saying confidence was the sexiest attribute of a woman. A male friend ( and a few females) laughed and said the statement was far from the truth. I was not surprised by his reaction, since men tend to be primarily focused on how the visual experience might be physically stimulating for them.
The same is often true for women. Many woman are just as moved by 'eye candy' as the average man. The older the woman, the less important the tall, dark, handsome, chiseled body becomes.
The mature woman will be equally moved by a confident, well versed man who is comfortable in his own skin.
As men get older, their focus on the physical beauty of a woman basically remains the same, but it is also possible that the more mature man will learn how to genuinely appreciate the inner beauty of a woman.
Men have shared surprising examples of when their women are sexiest..
No make-up, jeans, simple shirt, hair in a ponytail that is pulled through the back of a baseball cap.
Rocking her baby to sleep.
Asleep with baby in her arms.
Mowing the grass.
Wearing sweaty exercise attire.
He washes her hair.
She is curled up in his favorite chair.
She walks with the confidence of a woman who loves herself.
She gives him a simple smile,,,just because.
When a woman is confident, her positive inner feelings about herself will be visible on the outside.
She will stand tall, walk straight and live in that moment.
She is not attempting to impress anyone else, just embrace who she is.
Is being sexy more than a well toned body dressed in a revealing outfit?
Like beauty, is sexy simply in the eye of the beholder?
Sexy is not a word that should be viewed as crass and vulgar.
It is quite possible for a woman to be both classy and sexy.
.
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