Special Place

Special Place

Shopping carts, cars start

Smell of pavement, hot and black

This is where I free my mind

When my calmness is out of whack

 

Old people, young people

Children running amuck

This is where I free my mind

When everything gets stuck

 

Windshield, steering wheel,

These views I can see

This is where I free my mind

When I can no longer see

 

Children cry, people sigh

These things I can hear

This is where I free my mind

When I am in need of cheer

 

Parking lot, parking spot,

This is where I am,

This is where I free my mind,

Anytime that I can.

The Return

The Return

 

The thoughts bring sighs, wonderful and calm

Cold heart vanishes, warmth replaces

The countdown starts, arrival to come

Memories of love, time, and places

 

The time draws near, wired but collective

Familiar face appears, eyes seek eyes

Knowledge of the past, remembrance flows

Warmth and light, replace dark skies

 

Misery dissolves, hearts beat in sync

Thick fog dissipates, night slithers away

Wounds heal and hearts sing, two souls complete

A wholeness engulfs, no longer gray

 

Knowledge of an end, does not flicker

Tomorrow heeds gloom, love will be gone

But for this day, today, after many alone

This day feels whole, feels like home.

The Swing

I pumped my legs in and out, in and out, going high and higher on the swing.  The warm, fall wind blew my stringy, blonde hair forwards and backwards.  I felt like an angel flying high on the wind.  I looked up at the sky, as I swung higher, back and forth.  I drowned out the noises of the other kids on the playground by the wind rushing back and forth past my ears.  I had no worries at this moment; just random thoughts that kids have.

A sharp sudden pain in my back jarred me back into reality.  I looked around and realized that the bully of the class had hit me smack dab in the middle of my back with a crab soccer ball. This ball is three foot in diameter and the hard hit almost knocked me off the swing.  I drug my feet on the ground to get control and stop the swing before I fell off.  I was sure I had a bruise, the size of a watermelon, on my back because it burned as if a hornet had stung me.

The bully pointed and laughed at me.  “My turn!” the bully said, “Get off now!”

I retreated the swing in hopes the bully left me alone.

“Hey!  Get back here!” the bully yelled.  “Get back here now and throw that ball and let me kick it as I swing, and you can keep getting it and doing it again until I tell you to stop!” 

My memories of the bully attacking another girl in the bathroom popped into my head, so I did as I was told.  I timed the swinging motion of the bully and throw the ball at just the right time in order for it to reach her feet so she could kick it.  After she kicked it far away, I ran to retrieve it and do it all over again.  Other kids on the playground watched us from a distance because they did not want to be next. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I told the bully, because I really did have to pee.

“No, you have to wait until I tell you that you can go or I will punch you,” replied as she was swinging back and forth.  “Throw it again!”

The teacher came over and watched as we supposedly played.  The bully gave me a fierce look that told me not to say a word to the teacher.  I obliged. 

I really had to pee.  This time I did not time it right and the ball did not hit her feet.  In horror, I watched as it hit her smack dab in the forehead.  Her head bobbled just a bit and she had this mean look on her face.  She tried to hide it because the teacher was there, but it took a lot of effort. 

I laughed.  I could not help it, I just laughed.  That was the first time I had ever seen someone get hit in the head with a crab soccer ball.  It was also the very first time that the bully could not do anything about it.  I knew I would probably get it later, but I laughed.  I heard laughter all around me.  

I looked around and all of the other kids were laughing too.  I mean all of them.  I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my face.  I laughed so hard that I had to squat down to keep my belly muscles from hurting.  BIG mistake.  As soon as I squatted, I peed.  Moreover, no, this was not a little pee; this was one of those pees that lasted for a whole three minutes!  I thought if I could put my legs closer together that nobody would notice.  I was wrong there too.  I had cotton pants on, so the pee streamed straight through them and puddled on the ground as if I was naked.  

I looked around, still laughing, still crying and the focus was on me.  The kids were not laughing anymore, they were all looking at me with shocked faces.  I just sat.  I was already wet, so I sat right down.  Right there in the puddle of pee.  Right there in my own embarrassing moment.  I would forever be known as the ‘Eighth-Grade Wetter’. 

Mama's Robe

Mama died.  She died when I was nine-years-old.  My dad woke me up on Christmas morning with the phrase, “Your mom died.”  Those three words changed my life forever.  Those were the only words he said to me, and then he left me in my bed to cry.  She was sick.  She had been sick a long time.  I was angry, sad, and lost all at the same time.  I no longer had a mama.  I had brothers and sisters, and a dad…but no mama. 

Why did it have to be on Christmas morning of all times?  I should have woke up to gifts and Christmas breakfast, but that did not happen.  Instead, I woke up to death.  I woke up to my older sister going through my mama’s stuff to find my mama’s last dress she would ever wear.  I was in mama’s room.  I saw my sister put mama’s wig in a bag along with the dress.  My mama would not have wanted people to see her without her hair.  I saw mama’s robe, so I picked it up and smelled it.  I inhaled her scent deeply as if it would bring her home.  I did not want anyone to see me cry.  I held my tears.  I snuck my mama’s robe into my room and laid with it.  I rubbed my face in it and inhaled again.  My mama was gone, but I still had her robe.  I wrapped myself in it and cuddled in it as if she was holding me in her arms tight.  The tears now flowed freely.  I wanted to stay right there, in that robe, in my mama’s smell forever.

Memories of my mama flowed into my mind along with my tears.  Like the many times I told her, “I love you four!” and she would reply, “But I love you even more!”  I snuggled deeper into that robe and kept whispering, “I love you four mama….I love you four.”  I wanted her to reply more than anything, but all I got was tear-filled silence.  I did not want to get up.  I did not want to go into the other room to face the truth.  I wanted to be with my mama.  I felt if I stayed in the robe, then it all was just a dream.

I could hear the others in the living room going about the business of making funeral arrangements.  I could hear my dad on the phone.  He was telling people what time my mom would be ‘viewable’.  That was such a bad word.  Viewable.  I hated every single word I heard.  My sister knocked at my door and told me it was time to get ready.  I had laid in my bed a very long time even though it felt like only a few minutes.  I did not want to leave the robe.  I hid the robe under my mattress.  I was not going to let anyone take it from me. 

My sister got me ready for the funeral.  She brushed my tangled hair so hard I thought it was going to fall out.  “Mama would want you to look nice,” she said.  I did not want to look nice.  I wanted to go back to my bed with my mama’s robe.  My sister made me wear an ugly dress and stupid shoes too.  My mama would have never made me wear that stuff.  I was tempted to tell my sister that she was not my mama and could not tell me what to wear, but I did not.  I knew I would get in trouble if I did.

I hated the funeral.  I hated seeing my mama laying there like that.  She looked like she was asleep, but I knew she was not.  I did not want to look at her anymore because that was not my mama.  So I looked everywhere else instead.  I hated having to sit in the front pew with my dad.  I hated that the preacher looked at me with sad eyes.  I did not need pity.  I did not like people looking at me.  I hated that my teacher was a couple of pews behind me.  My life was not her business and I was mad at her for being here.  It was not her mama-it was mine.  I hated that my aunt walked up to the casket, cried aloud in front of everyone, and then passed out in the floor.  I hated that everyone ran to my aunt to make sure she was ok.  I hated it all. 

I looked at my mama again.  I really looked at her this time.  All of the hate that I had inside melted away and was replaced with sorrow.  I did not hate anyone...or anything.  I was angry because my mama was laying up there all dead and everyone was staring at her.  I did not like anyone seeing my mama like this.  This was not how she wanted people to see her.  Tears welled up in my eyes but I knew I had to be quiet. I looked back up there at my mama.  She was laying in white fabric and I guess it did somehow make her look like an angel.  A sleeping angel.  My poor mama.  She was "my" angel mama now. 

I would never see my mama again.  I would never get to have her hold me again either.  I could feel tears trickle down my face.  I did not wipe them away.  She deserved my tears.  My mama was my life.  She took such good care of me.  She always fixed my hair the best, always dressed me the nicest, and always held me when I needed her.  She always stayed with me when I was sick.  I remember the cool washcloths she used to put on my forehead when I had fevers.  She deserved my tears now...and she definitely deserved to be an angel. 

My mama had a hard life.  She had ten children.  She was wore out.  I remember seeing her in the hospital before she died.  She was no longer white, but a grayish color...and her eyes were not hers.  They looked different somehow.  They were sad, painful eyes.  I laid with my mama in that hospital bed for a whole minute before the nurse came in and told my dad that children were not allowed on the floor and that I had to leave.   That was the last time I saw my mama before she died.  My mama deserved to not be in pain anymore.  My mama looked peaceful in that casket.  She no longer had pain.  I had tears, but she had no pain. I think that was a good trade.  My tears for her pain.  My mama no longer hurt.  She no longer cried with pain, she was at peace. 

When we came home, I went straight to my room and took out my mama's robe.  I took off that ugly dress and wrapped myself all up in that robe.  I laid down in my bed, all snuggled up in that sweet pink and white cloth and I cried.  I cried for my mama.  I cried for her pain.  I cried for my pain.  I tried to remember everything I could about her because I was afraid I would forget her because she was all gone now.  I thought and thought and remembered.  I kept remembering until I could no longer think.  Then I slept....

A little over 31 years has passed since that day.  The robe is long since gone.  I can still remember the day you became an angel as though it were yesterday.  I thought I had lost my mama forever, but I have not.  As I have grown into a woman, I have realized that I see my mama in the mirror each day.  I also see my mama when I look at my brothers and sisters.  I see part of my mama in each of my children.  

My mama is the reason I became a nurse.  I can remember my daddy took me to the hospital once to visit when my mama when she was sick.  I remember how she looked, but the most important thing I remembered about that trip was the nurse who barged into the room and said I was not allowed to be there.  She told my dad that I had to leave at once.  I was not allowed to see my mama because I was a child, and children were not allowed to visit patients.  I looked at my mama one last time and vowed in my mind that if I ever became a nurse, I would not be like that.  I would actually care about my patients and their families.

I am a nurse now mama!  I treat all of my patients and their families with care.  If a child wants to lay with their mama in the hospital bed, I grab them a pillow and welcome them.  I treat all of my patients with respect and care.  I have helped many of my patients get better.  I have also comforted some of them, and their families, as they transitioned into angels just like you.  You would be so proud of me mama!   

In five years, I have accomplished many things.

It has been five years since I have last posted.  A lot of things can happen in five years.  I started and finished college!  I graduated with an associate's degree in nursing in 2013.  Then, I worked as a nurse while studying for my bachelor's degree.  I completed that two weeks ago.  I now have my BSN at the age of 40.

The one thing I learned about nursing school is that there was absolutely no time for anything else.  I am not kidding.  Sometimes, there was not enough time to even sleep.  You see, nurses must know everything there is to know about health and disease.  That way, we understand why physicians order tests, labs, and medications.  We also need to know every class of drug, their uses, side effects, and drug interactions because it is our job to assess for these things.  All of this vast information was crammed into two years of studying.  That is a lot of information to absorb, so yeah, there was no time for anything else, even writing.  Unless you count many, many research papers on evidence-based practice.  Which, I will not get into at this moment because I never want to have to do those again.

The thing about college is that it broadened my knowledge.  I had so many different stories I wanted to write before college, but I just did not have enough knowledge of the subjects in order to complete them.  I now have some of that knowledge.  During my bachelor's degree program, I chose electives in writing.  Those were my favorite classes.  I have many short stories I have written in those classes.  I will post a few at a later time.

I am just glad to be back in the writing saddle again!

I am the Chosen One

I am the Chosen One

I work just as hard as everyone else out there,
I am a child that you will find really rare.
I will stand tall, and I will not drone.
I watch as others are rewarded while I sit alone.

'You, you, you, (skip me), you and you!'
That's what is said, and it feels so cruel.
I don't know what I did that was so wrong,
To be left out of every game, but I remain strong.

I don't complain, I sit and see,
Everyone else is called but me.
My hopes grow big at every game,
I just await the sound of my name.

I sit, and wait, and wait some more,
We are winning big by that score,
Would it hurt to put me in, just one single time,
I may not show it, but inside I am crying.

My insides hurt, but I sit here with a smile,
I would like to play, if just for a little while.
Players sitting on each side of me are picked,
Each time this happens, I feel like I've just been kicked.

I'm a hard worker, I do what I'm asked,
Every single thing, every little task.
Just give me a minute or even a second to shine,
I won't let you down, I will do just fine.

I thought I was placed on the team for a reason,
I've sit on this bench this whole season.
It's not a joke, I feel like it's cruel,
For me not to play because of some silly unknown rule.

I am a senior, and this is my last year,
You will see everyone in gym stand and cheer,
On senior night when my name is called,
'I' will stand with pride, and I will not fall.

Even though, throughout each and every game that I've not been called for,
I hurt like heck as I walk out that gym door.
Because no matter what, my attitude is hopeful and my mouth doesn't run,
And maybe that's the reason, God made me the chosen one.

Yes, God has placed me in this position for a reason,
I am to grow and learn something or another this season.
Even if 'I' am never played, or put out there,
This year I've learned that nothing in life is fair.



*This blog is dedicated to my daughter and to all of the other kids who are benched due to some silly reason or another.

Sometimes, life isn't fair, but God is fair. He will see to it that we are all rewarded for our good deeds. God will also open the eyes of others. If one door closes, them God will open another door just for you. Don't ever give up! You are the only one who can choose your path in life. Don't let anyone else choose it for you.

Another Struggling Soul.

This is a true story of one young man's struggle with life. I will call him Bear.

Bear lived with his family, had a part-time job, a car, and a fiance that he'd do anything for. Money was tight for him and he struggled to make his car and insurance payments.He and his fiance decided to move away to a bigger city in hopes of better jobs and a new life together. Things were still pretty tough there, but their love seemed to get them through some of the worst situations.

After a while, their love seemed to fail and they parted ways. Bear came back home so that he could be with his family and friends, but he had no place to stay or a job to pay any bills. He went job hunting during the day and slept in his car at night. He felt so lost and alone. Every night he prayed for some sort of light to shine his way. He went through all sorts of emotions. He didn't understand why bad things happened to him. He felt like he was being punished for some reason or another. He felt as though he was in a dark void, and those were his actual words to me.

After a couple of weeks of searching, he finally found a part time job, but still had no place to lay his head at night. He would park his car anywhere that he could whether it be in a parking garage, or beside the road and sleep all cramped up in it. Sometimes he would sleep at work if a certain supervisor was there. He would stay with friends or family some nights, but most of his nights were in that car, alone and in the dark.

Throughout this whole process, I tried my best to give him words of hope and encouragement. I just knew he would be okay. I kept telling him that there is a reason for every single thing that happens. We may or may not find out the reasons for what happens, but eventually we go down the path that we were meant to go.

He disappeared from my communications with him. I was worried that something bad may have happened. I tried getting up with him on several occasions, just to make sure he was okay. I had a bad feeling that he may have left this life due to his struggling to make it. I was wrong. I received a message that he finally got up with some family in another city, and is now attending college. I am so very proud of him!

-no matter what happens in life, things do change.