Snow!!!! Who'd have thought!

I awoke this morning to incoming text messages from my daughter and sister-in-law with the same words, "Get up, it's snowing!"

Yes, the flash went off due to the low light but it actually gave the photo a magical feeling to match the falling snow. Considering it was a work day for me, I was getting up anyway but that definitely gave me reason to jump from the bed. Snow in Missisippi! I've only seen that happen...other than a few flurries...perhaps twice before in my lifetime. I can remember once when I was very small and having enough snow for myself and my four siblings to make snowmen and have snowball fights. Because it's really never that cold here, we had no gloves and had to layer on socks to keep our fingers from freezing. Needless to say, by the time we'd exhausted the layering of snow, there were no clean socks in the house. Mom probably wasn't very happy with that although she'd have relished our enjoyment for where she'd come from in Alabama the weather conditions pretty much matched our present location.

Another time, my siblings and I were in our teens/pre-teens and we broke out the socks again and had a blast. Unfortunately, though it may occasionally snow here, it never remains cold enough for it to last. It becomes a race against the sun to see if you can build snowmen before the snow becomes a soggy mush. Once the snowmen are created, the dense packing of the snow will allow them to last beyond the melting of the other snow. Actually, they look quiet odd and out of place sitting in an expanse of green lawn. That last time, we created only two, if I remember correctly. Perhaps only two remained because they were the largest but they did last for several days. We'd built them close to the highway, which is very busy, and we tried to make them as anatomically correct as we thought we could get by with. Needless to say, incurring our father's wrath was not a desired result so we ended up toning them down so that the only thing remaining were the female's breasts.

So, I head in to work and realize I've got to uncover the car; something else I'm not accustomed to. The conditions and snow are perfect and when I turn on the windshield wipers the snow is easily removed without further effort. I don't bother to remove the snow which has been pushed aside and down by the wipers nor that which has accumulated on the other windows thinking that it, too, will blow off as I drive. I back out of the driveway right into the highway because I wasn't judging the distance due to lack of visibility. Thankfully, nothing was coming. All the other idiots were staying home. My tires spin just a bit and I'm thinking, "Oh, sh*t!", but they grab and off I go. Still, the only direction I can see is straight ahead so I lower my window and it doesn't stop when I let off the button so that the snow adhering to it tumbles inside. That was cold! And, it's so fine that it immediately melts where it lands thanks to the warm interior of the auto. Sheesh! You'd think I'd have had more sense. Ah well.

All goes well enough and I make sure to stay in the correct lane for my needs since I can't change lanes without running over someone because my rear window is completely covered still. Darn! My sentences are running on. Anyway, I've noticed that my windshield wipers are not making a complete rotation due to the snow packed at the base of my windshield. I've included this photo, although blurry, because it's just past this intersection when my right wiper blade gives up the fight and slings off to the left side where it became entangled in my left blade. Yeah, oh crap! The lines on the road are nearly invisible and I realize I'm veering into the left lane off and on so I slow down. The right wiper is now scraping the windshield so I turn them off in hopes of not scratching the glass. After that, there is no visibility because what you can't see in the photo above is the continual fall of snow, plus that thrown up from the car, as well as the rivulets of water and melting flakes when they hit the warm windshield. This happens to be the busiest road in my small town. It's where all the fast food joints are as well as the dreaded Walmart. Whereas there was nearly no traffic along the rest of my route, here, I've got several real targets to aim for or miss. I still have to make it through the Walmart intersection and the McDonald's intersection where people are known to cut in front of you as if they can't wait or to pull out in front of you without warning...AND I CAN'T SEE. Someone pulls into McDonalds and then comes to a near stop with their rear end in the road. I almost clipped them. I make the turn and I'm on the home stretch.

This is the scene as I drive up to the lot. That's looking down on Walmart. I have to pull alongside the lot on the outer road and park so that I can unlock the gates. These gates swing out over that road so you have to wait patiently while vehicles go by before you can position them back against the bushes. It doesn't matter if it's raining or snowing, wet is wet, and people seem to be more curious about who you are and what you're doing than concerned about getting the heck out of your way. I end up backing into the lot like the doofus that I am gauging my route since I can't see. Think they'd have been upset if I'd marred a few of their 2008 models? Yes, I could have gone down and turned around but I just did what I always do when the conditions are clear. Creature of habit?

Hey! There's my wiper blade. Oh, did I tell you that I was putting the wipers in such a bind that if I turned them off they quit working altogether? I'll have to check for scratches later. Although I could have replaced the blade, I ended up replacing the vehicle instead for a new, more reliable model and one with all wheel drive.

Thankfully, the heater was left running inside the building so I didn't have to freeze as I started the day. I left the car parked there so that the other department could tend to it. The employee of that department was the only one abused with snowballs by me today, so far anyway. Due to the fact that the boss called and told us to shut the doors, the car is still sitting there and will be until Monday. Yes! After interrupting my sleep and driving haphazardly through town, the boss calls and tells me to go home. Who was I to argue with him? Instead, I drove around for a while taking in the changes that a light coating of snow can make about town. I can totally understand what is meant by pristine now. Between the snow and what it conceals, it was a much changed scene.

I finally arrived home to find my brother and brother-in-law playing like children in the snow on their 4-wheelers. My sister was up early playing in the snow. (I wish I'd gotten photos of that.) Though the snow had stopped, it began falling again so I walked around in it for a few minutes just enjoying the experience. Something about it makes you feel like a kid again and all you want to do is laugh and forget about the cold.

I'm sure it won't last long but will melt instead and, if the temperature drops, we'll have to worry about ice...another thing we're not used to as can be evidenced by the people already in the ditches. Right now, I've got to check the satellite for snow since the television isn't working. Roads with bridges are closed since MDOT isn't prepared; businesses are closing due to employees unwilling to make the trek in (my hair appointment for today was cancelled on me) or concern for freezing conditions later, the dog refuses to go outside, the cat is meowing to get in, and you can see that we really haven't gotten that much snow. Man! If we had a blizzard, I'm afraid the South would finally give up the fight. Nah, that would never happen.

I hope you all have a safe and happy weekend. My toes are cold. I forgot I had on wet shoes.

Thinking of the Kings

Martin Luther King, Jr died before he was able to bring his dream to fruition and I wonder what kind of man King would have been had he not died so early. Would he have remained true to his vision, would he have remained true to himself?

There are times within the fight for what we believe that we give in to the pressures exerted by internal and external forces and the fighting spirit within us diminishes until it’s no longer a driving force. We throw our hands up in futility seeing only that which is current and losing faith in the validity of future possibilities. Had Rosa Parks refused to stand for herself, how much longer before someone came along who would? When we think in terms of what one person can do by one single act to change the tide of history, it can catapult us from complacency; from acceptance of what we find wrong with our immediate environment and the world at large. Everything we do reverberates into life in some form. How often has a simple kindness to a stranger prevented him from a path of self-destruction we couldn’t possibly see? One belief thrown into the world has the possibility of affecting the thoughts and beliefs of another. We don’t always know what effect our words and actions will have but they can make a difference. Unfortunately, in the so many cases, such as Parks and King, the results of their words and actions brought them immediate grief and suffering but they were willing to risk all for their beliefs and discontent to continue life in oppression so they acted on hope and faith. One voice in the darkness of despair, loneliness, injustice, sickness, or whatever, can make all the difference in the world.

Would King have been swayed from his dream had he lived a lifetime as that of his wife or would he have continued the fight and remained true to his beliefs? Had he lived, would Mrs. King’s impact on society have been the same? We’ll never know that. What we do know is that for the short time he was on this Earth, he was the voice which made us believe that uniting all people was possible and he paved the way for the fight which so many others continued.

It is Mrs. King whom I admire the most. Perhaps it's because we share the same gender and I know what we, as women... mothers, wives, and daughters, face. During the era in which she was born, it was still the woman’s expectation to be a dutiful housewife and mother. The older woman I became familiar with tells me a lot about the young woman she must have been. While living in a world of racial segregation and the unfairness of society towards blacks, she could have allowed bitterness to have become her primary emotion especially when losing a husband and being forced to raise children under that banner of hatred. She contemplated suicide; she mourned privately even among her children; she endured days of solitude in which she could have internalized all that was negative. Somewhere amidst the grief and disillusionment, she made the conscious choices of what she would allow herself to feel and believe and what legacy to leave in the hearts of her children. Amidst the suffering, she found her own purpose and acted upon it to continue a life which not only honored the man she had chosen to follow and support, but herself as well. We see Hilary Clinton moving forward today with her own agenda of being the first female president of the United States and it is in stark contrast to what Mrs. King was able to do for society in her own quiet, unpublicized way. But then, that’s one difference in doing something for the common good of humanity and doing something for a personal agenda.....it’s not about the individual.

Within each country there are martyrs and heroes and within each of us is the ability to be the best person humanly possible. Whether we affect those in our closest circle, reach out to encompass the world or only ourselves, it is by our thoughts, words, and deeds that we allow ourselves to grow to our fullest potential. Our choices reflect who we are and we should all be true to ourselves and our individual vision. There is untold strength within each of us when we believe in ourselves , have confidence in our abilities and have faith in our convictions. The world is far from perfect and there are many areas of inequality still to be dealt with, but with each person lies the chance to make a difference however big or small. Again, as is said so often, it is the pebble thrown into a pool and the ripple effect created there which personifies that truth.

The King Center http://www.thekingcenter.org/csk/bio.html

Rosa Parks link http://montgomery.troy.edu/museum/

I wrote this in reply to someone's point being made that no-one mentioned MLK on his birthday and, in thinking about Mr King, I found myself drawn more to thoughts of his wife. Because Monday is Martin Luther King Day, I decided to edit it somewhat from the original site and share it here. I hope there is nothing within the lines to offend. For those of you who have that day off from work, which I do not, I hope it's a day you enjoy and find brotherhood (sisterhood) with others.

Friday 5 - The Times of My Life

This week's theme THE TIMES OF MY LIFE was provided by Lisa.

What are the five events of your life that have had the biggest impact on you . . . whether it was personal and/or public event? Elaborate as much or as little as you want!


1. Hmmn, let's see. There are many such moments in life. The day my mother left. Though she returned later in my life and was there off and on throughout, I'd say that was the largest influential event of my life.

2. The moment I realized I was pregnant with my daughter. That was definitely a defining moment. Though my son's importance is in no way diminished, that moment had more impact, I'd have to say.

3. The death of my father. Not going to expand on that one.

4. Introduction to the internet community, people and experiences. Talk about expanding your horizons. !

5. My first flight, first trip alone, first foray into the big city...all at the same time and against the wishes of everyone in my life. I survived it and so have they.




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Fun, easy, and no time limit.


Let's Play !!

Passages

"...there's a love path and a safe path."

"The love path is reckless and dangerous, and there are thorns and briers and a chance of complete destruction. The safe path is...alone. You don't have to trust or risk. Which would you choose.?"

"You can't go back to the garden. It's never going to be perfect here again. And if you waste all your energy trying to make believe or to look for the perfect place or the perfect person or the perfect life, you'll miss the good while looking for the perfect."

I was reading a simple novel about a mother looking for the child she'd been forced to give up while a young girl and within the pages were several passages which made me stop and think. These are just a couple. The book, In Search of Eden by Linda Nichols.

Photo above borrowed from: www.angel-love.ru/

Friday 5 - Prized Possessions

This week's theme is PRIZED POSSESSIONS . . . the "stuff/things" that are very important to you in bringing you smiles, happiness and pleasure in your life . . . not necessarily necessities . . .

The theoretical question . . . Your place of residence is on fire, you can safely take and save five things (not counting living things like family, pets, just STUFF) . . . what are these things? If you care to elaborate, why are they so important to you?


1. Photo albums, of course...this includes the cd's which have replaced the traditional albums. I'm a photo freak. It's history, you know? I'm the official photo thief in the family.

2. Electronics...the most expensive thing I'd have to replace. Computer first simply for what's not backed up yet.

3. Favorite books...Gosh! I hope it's a slow burning flame. : )

4. Financial and personal records...not so precious but the devil to replace and I've better things to do with my time.

5. The quilt on the bed. It's my son's made by his grandmother. I'd grab it first and fill it with the gifts from others that I have sitting in my room.

The really important stuff, such as my mementos, things from my earlier years, those things given to me by my children, as well as my father's belongings are stored elsewhere closeby. If both house and this place caught on fire at the same time, I'd go for these things first.




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Let's Play !!

Depression

You come as a thief in the night though the sun has yet to set

seeking to take that which I've managed to gather for myself.

I could allow you in but I've no regards for you one way or another.

I can ignore your presence and allow you to wreak havoc in my orderly existence

or deal with you and prove that I'm capable of withstanding your presence.

Do your worst by me, intrude upon my life, but don't expect easy access

or an unguarded place in which you can return any time you please.

I recognize you for what you are and understand you but that doesn't mean

that I must accept you or have to allow you substance and place.

You would seek to control, to take over the better things I've managed

but life has provided me with stronger means by which to defeat you.

Gain admittance if you can and bring your darkness into my life

but be forewarned that I'm vigil and you'll not find residence here.

Remembering

In the quiet I gaze at you as you sleep. It’s not the sleep of health but drug induced to alleviate the effects of your illness that your frail form can’t withstand. Your gray hair; I don’t remember it every being the red of your youth and I can’t imagine you as a freckle-faced child though I see it passed onto my own son. You were always ageless to me, not young nor old....just you. I see now the lines of time etched on your face no longer obscured but revealed by the loss of weight. How often I’ve looked into that face attempting to see what of myself came from you, my female features smaller yet somehow similar. Your hands, always so capable and the hands by which I determine the strength of any man, now lay idle except for the occasional motion brought on by your dreams. I hope your dreams are pleasant though I can’t tell from your expressions.

Time is creeping by though I hear the busy pace outside the door. I’ve nothing to do but sit here with my thoughts waiting for you to awaken. Sometimes I fear that you won’t. I wonder if you have any idea what effect your life has upon my own; if you’ve ever know that. There is a part of me that belongs only to you as your daughter. My thoughts and beliefs mirror so much of the person you are and yet are uniquely my own for the added benefit of my own experiences. The foundation I’ve built upon was formed by you and you continued to add to the building of my life and, though the building is far from complete, I am less one of my craftsmen. I can complete the process for myself but I’d rather not have to.

Memories arise with each passing thought and they keep me company. I used to come to your business as a child and plunder your employees’ desks in search of something interesting I could take away with me. As an adult, I know what it means to return to work and find missing items necessary for your job and yet you never scolded me for the taking but replaced the items instead. I sat quietly watching your interaction with employees and businessmen alike and learned that a business could be built on ethics. I listened to the comments of those who often ignored the child I was and learned to look at you not only as my father but as a man whom others respected. Years later when you brought me in to work for you, insisting I learn the value of work instead of being supported, you made me the standard by which other employees were to behave. I was the one who couldn’t be late, stand idle, or gossip idly when things were to be done. Despite the fact that you were my father and my boss I sometimes wanted to go against your dictates but couldn’t due to the logic that could be found within them.

Logic and it’s inescapable effects. How many times did the five of us sit around the dining table for hours on end while we received lectures which you thought more effective than harsher discipline? For a child, a spanking would have been preferable because it would have lasted only moments. We’d spend the time making faces at one another and kicking each other beneath the table when you weren’t looking. Eventually we’d tire and lay our heads down in hopes you’d get the message that we surrendered to your wisdom and authority. I’ll definitely never forget the ‘little lady’ talk I received when allowing you to hear me say a four-letter word after raising from the refrigerator and banging my head on the opened freezer door. Two hours of "a little lady does this, and a little lady doesn’t do that" kind of burns into your memory what exactly a lady is supposed to be.

Spankings! Why was it that we seldom were alone in our spankings? I can remember the five of us ganging up on you and refusing to tell who was to blame and therefore we all got the same punishment but, to be honest, I’m not sure if we ever really knew who was truly to blame since we carried the musketeer’s motto, "all for one, one for all" at heart. I really hated that belt of yours, even though it was seldom used, but preferred it to the keen switch Mother and Grandmother opted to use.

You never remarried and I often wondered why exactly that was. Did you not want to saddle another woman with us five or did we steadfastly refuse another woman in our home? Did you love my mother to the extent that you could never replace her? Was it enough for you that out of your five there were three girls who could tend house and look after home matters? I think it is most likely a little of all combined. I know you were passionate about my mother from watching you go through years of anger and acceptance. I wish we’d been more open to another woman in your life and, though I don’t remember any incidences where we were rude to anyone, I’m sure we played a part in your solitude. Routine and time made it easier for each of us girls in turn to take over running the household and perhaps made it easier to ignore the absence of someone else whose place it should have been.

Oh well, that’s water under the bridge and I know I’ll never ask you these questions. It does, however, bring to mind something I still find humorous and touching to this day. Because you were unmarried, it was unusual for you to be seen in public in the company of a woman. When I became of the age to vote, you decided to introduce me to the process. I can remember showing up at the courthouse arm in arm with you and receiving the speculative looks from the businessmen at the polls. You grinned at me because you too knew what they were thinking and yet your smile took on more depth when you introduced me as your daughter There was pride evident in the manner in which you did that and the looks on their faces also took on a different quality. Thank you for that.

You have always believed in me but you’ve also been my staunchest critic, much as I am with my own children. There was a day when I was feeling particularly confident and must have been preening for you made one comment to me which deflated my ego completely. "Pretty is as pretty does." You went on to stress how important it was to be confident in ourselves but to not be arrogant about it. Yes, I still feel the sting of the polite reminder you gave me for every girl wants to be pretty, but I thank you just the same for the lesson learned. Looks are an advantage but they don’t make the person.

Another quote from you I often refer back to is "believe only half of what you see and nothing of what you hear" for the truth of what you see is based on your perception alone and the words carried by another are seldom first hand. There is a story behind everything but it is in our perception and in others’ honest delivery as to the validity of that story. When I hear the gossip of others or when I see something that raises flags in my mind I have to stop and question and not just assume. Knowledge is power but fact must be separated from fiction.

Fiction. You hated it that I spent all my time reading for you were afraid that I was wasting all my time on romance novels which you thought totally worthless. I was always your quiet child, the thinker, and you tried many times to bring me out of myself but eventually gave up. I didn’t, however, spend all my time on novels. I just preferred solitude and quiet to the confusion offered by the rest of the household. I have to wonder if you remember the time you decided to do some work in the bedroom I then shared with my sister and took the bed apart just to find between the mattresses several copies of the latest men’s magazines. Oh my! Another lecture around the round table. I couldn’t very well tell you that they belonged to my brother and I’d found them and hidden them so you wouldn’t run across them. Of course, now thinking back, I can only imagine what went through your mind regarding me possibly looking at pictures of naked women. At that time, I was totally oblivious to sex much less same sex relationships and it would never have occurred to me.

Sex was another lecture in itself. After two older sisters and reading everything in sight, there was little I didn’t know about the workings of the bodies after a while. It did not prepare me for the actual act or the consequences of it. When I was introduced to it by a long-time boyfriend you must have sensed the change in me or perhaps the change in the relationship I had with the guy for you watched our interaction one day and then when he’d left you cornered me and made me sit at the table. You didn’t waver in your discussion but went right to the matter by asking, "So, how long have you been having sex?" Had you asked was I having sex I might would have denied it, or tried at least. Instead, you attacked it as foregone knowledge and I had to question what you knew. You always had me convinced you had your ways of knowing what each of your children were up to and I found it futile to skirt the truth. You often teased that you had eyes everywhere. Needless to say, you curtailed my freedom after that and I eventually lost the boyfriend but all’s well that ends well, as they say.

Haha, you just felt for your glasses on your face and yet you’ve got them pushed far up on your forehead at the moment. You’re still not awake so I don’t know if it’s something you’re dreaming or a near conscious reflex. How you wear those heavy glasses is beyond me and yet you have no desire for the more modern, lighter weight frames being offered. I just realized I have no idea how old you were when you started wearing glasses though I do know you are farsighted and not so much to the extent of my own nearsightedness.

We were talking just the other day about my first pair of eyeglasses. Six years of school and avoidance of sports which involved balls of any sort coming out of nowhere at fast speeds. Even on the front row in class I couldn’t see the chalkboard unless I squinted or made my eyes tear up which created a magnifying effect. Otherwise, I would sit beneath the chalkboard so as not to block the other students’s view and copy my work from there. I don’t remember which teacher brought your attention to it but I do recall standing with you at home as I tried out my glasses for the first time and realized just how much I’d been missing. How old was I? Twelve or thirteen, perhaps? All of sudden there were individual leaves on the trees instead of great green indefinite shapes and birds in the sky instead of just a streak of dark against the light. I think you apologized to me because you never realized I couldn’t see but the apology was unnecessary because I’d never realized it myself. It was all normal to me. I do remember sitting outside on the back steps for a long time that first night counting the stars I’d never seen but knew existed.

Of course, it wasn’t long before vanity warred with my desire to see the world and the fact that they gave me a headache aided that vanity. You didn’t wear glasses unless you were a ‘nerd’ and so I put them away while in public and so still avoided sports and anything that came upon me suddenly. Vanity! What is it worth? Very little. They had only hard contact lenses back then and I refused to wear them and risk my eyesight......little that I seemed to have. Of course, as a teenager, I was often told I was stuck-up because I seldom spoke to anyone. What they didn’t know was that if they were further than a few feet from me I couldn’t see them to determine whether I knew them or not. Maybe that’s why I got into the habit of smiling at everyone, so that I wouldn’t be insulting those who deserved recognition. Oh well, that’s a habit I’m glad I have despite the catalyst for I’ve found a smile is extremely important and beneficial in dealing with most people if for no other reason than the goodwill it represents.

Dealing with others is something else I got from you. You never judged anyone by class, race or by any distinction other than their individual effort, honesty, and integrity. I think the thing you hated most of all was laziness. It irked you to see the waste of intelligence and physical ability when a little effort was all that was required of anyone to succeed. You were willing to help anyone who helped themselves and felt little pity for those healthy individuals who bemoaned their fate while less fortunate individuals deserved your concern. On the other hand, you were wary of pride and it’s ability to hinder any man from doing what was required in life. You considered digging a ditch on par with being a doctor, both honorable professions.

Oh well, you know all these things and I could go on and on reminiscing but it’s about time for the drugs to wear off and you’re getting restless. I’ve no doubts you’ll make it through this bout of illness as you have all the ones before it but I worry about the future. I can’t imagine life without you in it and though I know I’ll face that one day, today is not the day. You’ve just opened your eyes and are now trying to clear the fog from your mind. You grin at me and I know it won’t be long now and these quiet moments will be over. So, until next time, Dad, thank you and know that I love you.

Another place

The television flashes its lighted images across the darkened room, the sound muted, but its presence welcome as I sit in solitary vigil waiting for exactly what I’m not sure. Tired of reading in the dim light, my thoughts constantly distracted from the fiction, overrun by reality that I’ve tried to keep at bay and failed.

I wrap the thin, serviceable blanket higher around me to ward off the incessant chill provided by the ancient radiator which refuses to accommodate human comfort regardless of the thermostat setting. Rising from the makeshift bed, I stand to gaze out the window at the scene below. It is nighttime and the ebb and flow of humanity has slowed to only an occasional disturbance of the stillness that always seems to accompany the later hours. The scene from the window is ever-changing and yet eerily similar from moment to moment. Purpose of movement is repeated over and over again, only the faces change with the level of light provided by nature.

I’ve learned that pacing the floors avails me nothing; no comfort, no answers, no peace, no miraculous healing. It’s just a pathway to nowhere; back and forth I tread until I know every square inch of ugly linoleum which no longer possesses a distinguishable color. I stop at the mirror placed haphazardly over a sink which has known the germs of many men, women, and children alike; the porcelain chipped and worn thin in areas.. I use it no more than necessary. I gaze at my reversed twin reflected from the mirror’s silvered backing. I see the lines of fatigue, dark under-eye shadows of unrest, and a general unkempt appearance encouraged by long hours spent in this confined space.

Morning will bring me a few hours separation from this place and a day of work the occupation of thoughts that freely roam during the normal sleeping hours. Burying myself in work becomes a luxury instead of an item for complaint. I always detour for a quick bath and change of clothes between where I left and where I’m headed and the guilt of leaving follows me despite the fact that a suitable replacement will pace the steps I know so well. Guilt is partnered with fear of what I might find upon my return.

Returning here seems inevitable for this is not my only acquaintance with these walls or at least some very like them. Time in this place is not something I asked for and I’ll never miss it once the situation is resolved one way or another. The room we become encapsulated in may vary but we’re always put on the same level which reflects some organization of intellect somewhere, I suppose. I confront the people who run this place for it’s impersonal for all its advertised humanity. I must retract that statement or at least alter it in some fashion. Despite the robotic people I see day to day, there exists still some who retain their human qualities and who make passing time here bearable. I care not for the arrogance and pride which I see displayed regularly for I know no-one is infallible and so I question and prod until I’m satisfied though they may no longer be.

I enter the fray of mental, emotional, and even spiritual battle each day but it’s nothing compared to the battle being fought by the other occupant of this enclosed, bland, and sterile place. He cannot escape even for a brief respite of sunlight and crisp winter air. With the ebbing of spirit, any interest he once had in the rectangle of sky visible through the one clear window pane is evident no more. He withers away before me and I’m helpless to change the progression of time or reverse it which would be my wish. We share fewer words with each passing day and mostly I just gaze at the still form as the shadows change pattern on the wall and the minutes dissolve slowly yet still too rapidly. I watch and remember and, in the odd moments when I doze, I dream, never quite escaping this reality before being brought back to conscious thought by the beeps and alarms which now replace the strains of music and click of typewriter keys I normally associate with spending time in his company. Lives entwined; not so easily forfeited; I wait and then I wait some more.

Never Lose Hope

If you can look at the sunset and smile,
then you still have hope.

If you can find beauty in the colors of a small flower,
then you still have hope.

If you can find pleasure in the movement of a butterfly,
then you still have hope.

If the smile of a child can still warm your heart,
then you still have hope.

If you can see the good in other people,
then you still have hope.

If the rain breaking on a roof top can still lull you to sleep,
then you still have hope

If the sight of a rainbow still makes you stop and stare in wonder,
then you still have hope.

If the soft fur of a favored pet still feels pleasant under your fingertips,
then you still have hope.

If you meet new people with a trace of excitement and optimism,
then you still have hope.

If you give people the benefit of a doubt,
then you still have hope.

If you still offer your hand in friendship to others that have touched your life,
then you still have hope.

If receiving an unexpected card or letter still brings a pleasant surprise,
then you still have hope.

If the suffering of others still fills you with pain and frustration,then you still have hope.

If you refuse to let a friendship die, or accept that it must end,
then you still have hope.

If you look forward to a time or place of quiet and reflection,
then you still have hope.

If you still buy the ornaments, put up the Christmas tree or cook the turkey,
then you still have hope.

If you still watch love stories or want the endings to be happy,
then you still have hope.

If you can look to the past and smile,
then you still have hope.

If, when faced with the bad, when told everything is futile, you can still look up
and end the conversation with the phrase...."yeah....BUT.." then you still have hope.

Hope is such a marvelous thing. It bends, it twists, it sometimes hides,
but rarely does it break.

It sustains us when nothing else can.
It gives us reason to continue and courage to move ahead, when we tell ourselves we'd rather give in.

Hope puts a smile on our face when the heart cannot manage.

Hope puts our feet on the path when our eyes cannot see it.

Hope moves us to act when our souls are confused of the direction.

Hope is a wonderful thing, something to be cherished and nurtured,
and something that will refresh us in return.

And it can be found in each of us, and it can bring light into the darkest of places.

NEVER lose hope.

~ Author Unknown ~

Proactive thinking

That is sooo false a title! LOL I need to think and yet I'm just not quite able to...at least not clearly. I've got too much going on in my head and it won't sort itself. It's been this way since before Christmas and, with everything going on, I've been just out of it.

I need to do a lot of thinking and I need to set some direction to my life this year so that it's an improvement over the last. Not that there was anything horrendous about 2007 but it could have been better.

I think it's totally a matter of deciding exactly what you want and planning the steps to get you there. What I want may not happen in 2008 but I'd like to get to the end of the year and know that I've directed my life and not just let the days pass aimlessly by. Some are okay. All 365 days gone with no achievement of any goals is just too sad.

Knowing what you want is one thing. Discarding those things which hold you back are another. You can't just discard the people in your life, especially kids, and you can't discard a job when the market is slow enough not to guarantee another one. You can't discard the life you have even if you sometimes want to walk away from it without looking back. So, I have to figure out how to seamlessly incorporate what I want into what I've got and find a fine balance for it all.

Yes, I know I'm saying a lot without saying anything at all but it's also how my mind is right now. I guess the point is that I have to get a life which revolves around me. If I wait for things to happen, I'll still be sitting here at the end of 2008 no closer to what I want than I am today. I wasn't going to let that happen in 2007 but children, more than anything else, sidetracked plans and that's okay for now. I'm hoping that things are better for them this year so that they can be for me. The daughter will be graduating her college courses and the son will be back home getting his life on track, Lord willing. After the first quarter, I should be able to gain some momentum. It's what I'm hoping anyway.

My wants are few, thank goodness, so I should be able to make some headway. First, though, are lists to make (as Denise is always reminding me ) and a starting point. If I have to make things happen, then it's time to begin.

So much for the less than cohesive thoughts from this less than stellar mind. : ) My visits online will most likely be sporadic for a little while but I'll soon get it together.

Have a wonderful, safe week, everyone.