Some background:
The young man below is not related to us by blood, but could not be more ours if one of mine had birthed him. He has been a part of our lives pretty much since the day he was born. He belongs to a friend of our daughters. It is a convoluted and confusing story, but one that has our middle born giving up her life to pretty much raise this young man. We are Mam Maw and Pap Paw.
We delight in his joys and agonize in his hurts. We have supported him emotionally, physically (including cutting a tightly wrapped hair from his penis...but that is another story) and at times financially. He has been exposed to the finer things because of our daughter and us. I often wonder where he would be without our entire family and then shudder and quit thinking about it.
His mother tries I guess. She is not a stupid woman. She is a hard worker, never without a job. Young...gave birth at 18 and single. Father was not involved until this boy was two. He is a piece of work...though I guess he tries too. I try to give them both the benefit of the doubt but today nearly put me over the edge.
As you can see in the picture and post below there was an accident involving this young man's eye. Not serious...but concerning enough to need medical care and follow-up treatment. I called this morning to make sure the follow-up treatment took place...gut feeling told me something was out of place. No answer on the phone...shit.
Mom finally calls me back and starts immediately telling me she could not take him to the doctor for his recheck due to lack of insurance. Dad has failed to keep the policy active and she can't afford to pay the cost of the visit in cash. Never mind that this is his EYE...his vision. What is the price of seeing going for these days?
I thought I was going to blow a gasket. I wanted to start screaming. I didn't. I just told her I would figure out something and call her back. It is now 11:00am on Sunday morning. I called my optometrist's office and leave a message on his emergency number. He calls me back.
I try to explain as best I can what is going on. I ask him if he would please do me a huge favor and look at his eye for me. I am nearly in tears by this time I am so angry and frustrated at this mother's lack of concern for her child and his vision.
I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! He was more than willing to look at his eye.
When I called mom to tell her to have the boy ready to go, this is what she said: "Is he an optometrist or an ophthalmologist?" If she had been standing in front of me at this point I might have grabbed her by the throat and choked the life out of her as not more than 10 minutes earlier she didn't care if he saw a doctor or not! OMG!
Anyway...enough of the terrible mother rant. Bottom line...his eye is completely healed. His vision is intact and fine. And get this...the doctor charged us....NOTHING!
Again.....I HAVE THE BEST EYE DOCTOR IN THE WORLD!!! Dr. Jeffrey Cappelle you are the best!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Boys Will Be Boys
And accidents happen! A buddy's finger in the eye resulted in a scratched cornea. Fortunately eyes heal quickly. And after a visit to the eye doctor this morning hopefully he will be seeing just fine!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
WTH?
Sooo...I went to a quilt show today and this was part of the exhibit. I apologize for the quality ofthe photo but I had to sneak to take it as no photos were permitted, (I could not help myself).
The artist explains she was compelled to create this work of art due to her discontent with the current state of this nation's politics. She followed that with a quote by Barack Obama. I am sorry I do not have it verbatim but it was in regard to the controversy surrounding the flag pin ordeal.
I just didn't get it. Obama is Jesus? Jesus is an American? God bless Obama? Jesus likes flags? Jesus needs a good tailor?
The artist explains she was compelled to create this work of art due to her discontent with the current state of this nation's politics. She followed that with a quote by Barack Obama. I am sorry I do not have it verbatim but it was in regard to the controversy surrounding the flag pin ordeal.
I just didn't get it. Obama is Jesus? Jesus is an American? God bless Obama? Jesus likes flags? Jesus needs a good tailor?
Friday, August 21, 2009
A Transformative Moment
I came about this sort of meme through Tessa, who I adore for her writing and her painting. Tessa links back to Steven of Golden Fish who asks bloggers to write about a transformative moment in their life. A little late on the draw here...but what the hell.
Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character.
I found myself in a land that was familiar, but not home. I would walk out of the door in the morning, surrounded by land masses that embodied 'purple mountains majesty' and wonder if those who lived here saw the beauty I did? Or did they just go about the day without noticing the gift mother nature lay at their feet.
My early morning journey took me to the sterile halls of the local hospital. Where the smell assaults your senses before you even enter the building. As I walked through those halls I would to think to myself, "I am much to accustomed to this." For I had taken this walk daily for the last 10 days. The same corridors, to the same room I had I spent 15 hours a day. To the bedside of the strongest woman in my life: My mother.
Unconscious and attached to a machine that forced air into her lungs. IV's in both arms. Catheters, tubes, monitors...technology keeping her alive. And every morning as I entered the room my first thought, "how did this happen?" There were no answers...only questions. All that technology and nobody could tell me why.
That particular day would be different from all the other days I had made the journey. I would sit beside her bed, talk to her, comb her hair and share with her the news of the day. "Mom, it snowed five inches in the desert, can you believe it!" All the while wishing this day was not happening.
Decisions...I was asked to make them for 10 days. Decisions that made the difference between life and death. Today I was not the one making the decision. My mother had made the decision years ago when she signed a simple document. I was asked if I had it, "yes." Though not asked to produce it. And the process began.
I stood there and wondered how my heart could ache so desperately and still continue to beat. How could my lungs continue to draw air as the machine discontinued to force air into her's? I held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her...what did I say? I don't remember now. I just knew I needed her to know it was okay to leave me, even as my entire body was screaming for her stop this nonsense and get up!
She didn't get up. She left me quietly in less than 10 minutes. Her body so ravaged by a disease that had no name. And I alone standing there to try and make sense of life without a mother. My mother...the one I looked like. The one whose strength and personality I bore. My mother...gone from me forever.
She was 61 years old. Too young to die. I was 36... too young to be without my mom. But life goes on doesn't it. And it was for me to decide how I was going to go about mine. A transformative moment? Without a doubt.
If you averaged the life of both my parents you would end up with 60 living years. Didn't look so good for me. A wake up call was had.
Before mom fell ill, I was about 30 pounds over weight. I didn't exercise and wasn't in the best of shape. I now found myself about 10 pounds lighter. The stress and starve diet does wonders. I made the decision to lose the rest and become as healthy as I could be.
I completely changed my eating habits and began to exercise regularly. I transformed my entire body in about six months. I went from a size 12 to a size two and felt better than I had in years. The hubby lost 20 just eating the good food I was cooking! I wanted live a long life and grow old and getting healthy was the beginning.
I also transformed my mind. Things that were important weren't so important anymore. My mom didn't enjoy her life. She worked hard nearly till the day she died. I was not going to be her. I made a pact to do the things I wanted to do. Never to put off those things. Do it now, for tomorrow may never come. All those cliche's...life is too short, live today etc. They are true. Life can change in an instant.
I am my mother's daughter in way's that extend beyond birth. I emulate her in my daily life, but I will not leave this earth with life undone and a heart that is heavy. I will live to be old and I just might wear lots of purple!
Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character. I did both!
Tell us about your transformative moment.
Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character.
I found myself in a land that was familiar, but not home. I would walk out of the door in the morning, surrounded by land masses that embodied 'purple mountains majesty' and wonder if those who lived here saw the beauty I did? Or did they just go about the day without noticing the gift mother nature lay at their feet.
My early morning journey took me to the sterile halls of the local hospital. Where the smell assaults your senses before you even enter the building. As I walked through those halls I would to think to myself, "I am much to accustomed to this." For I had taken this walk daily for the last 10 days. The same corridors, to the same room I had I spent 15 hours a day. To the bedside of the strongest woman in my life: My mother.
Unconscious and attached to a machine that forced air into her lungs. IV's in both arms. Catheters, tubes, monitors...technology keeping her alive. And every morning as I entered the room my first thought, "how did this happen?" There were no answers...only questions. All that technology and nobody could tell me why.
That particular day would be different from all the other days I had made the journey. I would sit beside her bed, talk to her, comb her hair and share with her the news of the day. "Mom, it snowed five inches in the desert, can you believe it!" All the while wishing this day was not happening.
Decisions...I was asked to make them for 10 days. Decisions that made the difference between life and death. Today I was not the one making the decision. My mother had made the decision years ago when she signed a simple document. I was asked if I had it, "yes." Though not asked to produce it. And the process began.
I stood there and wondered how my heart could ache so desperately and still continue to beat. How could my lungs continue to draw air as the machine discontinued to force air into her's? I held her hand and whispered words of comfort to her...what did I say? I don't remember now. I just knew I needed her to know it was okay to leave me, even as my entire body was screaming for her stop this nonsense and get up!
She didn't get up. She left me quietly in less than 10 minutes. Her body so ravaged by a disease that had no name. And I alone standing there to try and make sense of life without a mother. My mother...the one I looked like. The one whose strength and personality I bore. My mother...gone from me forever.
She was 61 years old. Too young to die. I was 36... too young to be without my mom. But life goes on doesn't it. And it was for me to decide how I was going to go about mine. A transformative moment? Without a doubt.
If you averaged the life of both my parents you would end up with 60 living years. Didn't look so good for me. A wake up call was had.
Before mom fell ill, I was about 30 pounds over weight. I didn't exercise and wasn't in the best of shape. I now found myself about 10 pounds lighter. The stress and starve diet does wonders. I made the decision to lose the rest and become as healthy as I could be.
I completely changed my eating habits and began to exercise regularly. I transformed my entire body in about six months. I went from a size 12 to a size two and felt better than I had in years. The hubby lost 20 just eating the good food I was cooking! I wanted live a long life and grow old and getting healthy was the beginning.
I also transformed my mind. Things that were important weren't so important anymore. My mom didn't enjoy her life. She worked hard nearly till the day she died. I was not going to be her. I made a pact to do the things I wanted to do. Never to put off those things. Do it now, for tomorrow may never come. All those cliche's...life is too short, live today etc. They are true. Life can change in an instant.
I am my mother's daughter in way's that extend beyond birth. I emulate her in my daily life, but I will not leave this earth with life undone and a heart that is heavy. I will live to be old and I just might wear lots of purple!
Transformative: to change in form, appearance, or structure...to change in condition, nature, or character. I did both!
Tell us about your transformative moment.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Symbols
Just when you need it the most they appear. Those little things that give you the strength to carry on the fight.
I looked up and there he was, wings spread wide. White head reflecting the evening sun. He was gliding on the currents of the air effortlessly above the body of water that held his dinner. Perhaps he wasn't hungry or maybe just content to perch for a time. In a treetop, barren and white barked he landed. A bald eagle...the American symbol of freedom and strength.
I know it will all be okay now.
I looked up and there he was, wings spread wide. White head reflecting the evening sun. He was gliding on the currents of the air effortlessly above the body of water that held his dinner. Perhaps he wasn't hungry or maybe just content to perch for a time. In a treetop, barren and white barked he landed. A bald eagle...the American symbol of freedom and strength.
I know it will all be okay now.
Dust in the Wind
Rage, bluster, threats, stomping feet.
Rambling, blaming, projecting.
Yelling, cussing, hurling accusations.
Rationalizing, self pity, emotional hijacking.
But when do you take responsibility for the lies?
Like the song said,
Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Friday, August 14, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Now That Really Is...
A shitty thing to do.....................
http://www.daytondailynews.com/news/crime/call-for-possible-dead-body-a-foolish-prank-police-say-240498.html
http://www.daytondailynews.com/news/crime/call-for-possible-dead-body-a-foolish-prank-police-say-240498.html
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
You Won't Believe What I Saw Today
It was the most amazing thing ever! I apologize for the quality of the pictures, but I was literally doing a 'hail Mary' with my camera over the crowd.
A Happy Ending
As I watch these women walk off the plane after some 140 days as prisoners in North Korea I have tears falling from my eyes.
All politics aside...a mother holds her baby girl for the first time in five months. A sister caresses the face of her sibling as if she thought she would never feel that soft skin again. Parents hold their grown daughters as if they were young girls once again.
I never thought I would say these words: You done good Bill!
All politics aside...a mother holds her baby girl for the first time in five months. A sister caresses the face of her sibling as if she thought she would never feel that soft skin again. Parents hold their grown daughters as if they were young girls once again.
I never thought I would say these words: You done good Bill!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Summer On The Lake
This is my lake.
A place I go to find myself when I am lost.
A place to share with those I love and cherish.
A place of joy, peace, and Mother Nature at her finest.
Welcome my friends...
Come and share what I so enjoy
Fire burns on the water
Orange fills the sky
Warming the atmosphere for adventures
Boats to be paddled
Family and friends gather
To share the fun
Watch carefully
You never know what you will see
The sun sets in the western sky
Hues of orange once again fill the horizon
We have come full circle
It will all begin again tomorrow
You all come back now...ya hear!
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Home
It is nothing fancy. A cape cod situated on a street in a neighborhood that is as non-descript as the house. Vinyl sided, a light grey with black shutters...a green front door (matched the interior at one time). There are a few flowers in the front yard, some shrubbery...neglected lately as priorities have changed.
The interior is neatly kept most of the time. At least as neatly as can be with three dogs and a cat that shed like cotton weed in the spring. It isn't a designer showcase. Some decent art on the walls. Updated decor. It has been describe as 'homey' by the teenagers that used to congregate there. A better compliment I couldn't ask for.
Walls, floors, ceilings, windows...those things that make a shelter. But it is my home. It is the place I raised my children. But more than that...it is the place that my parents raised me. I have lived there all but five years of my life. That accounts for 43 years. That accounts for my life.
My home is as much a part of me as is my heart. The plaster that form the walls, encapsulates the days of my youth. The walls speak to me of memories. Memories of those who are no longer part of my life. My mother, father, and two brothers.
I see them all. I see them as I did when I was a young girl, in the good times, in the bad times. I hear the sound of their voices. Singing, laughing, crying, yelling. I can still see them sitting in their places. We all had our places. Michael at the register on the cold winter mornings. Mom on the right side of the sofa, Dad on the left, the dog in the middle of them. Patrick always in his room. And me...curled up against mom. I was a mama's girl.
My home...it became mine some 24 years ago. Mine......children conceived here. A second generation raised here. The same joy. The same struggles. Three children once again fighting the same battles. Full circle.
Home. It is where the heart is. But more than that. It is where the soul is.
Tell Shutter Sisters about your home
The interior is neatly kept most of the time. At least as neatly as can be with three dogs and a cat that shed like cotton weed in the spring. It isn't a designer showcase. Some decent art on the walls. Updated decor. It has been describe as 'homey' by the teenagers that used to congregate there. A better compliment I couldn't ask for.
Walls, floors, ceilings, windows...those things that make a shelter. But it is my home. It is the place I raised my children. But more than that...it is the place that my parents raised me. I have lived there all but five years of my life. That accounts for 43 years. That accounts for my life.
My home is as much a part of me as is my heart. The plaster that form the walls, encapsulates the days of my youth. The walls speak to me of memories. Memories of those who are no longer part of my life. My mother, father, and two brothers.
I see them all. I see them as I did when I was a young girl, in the good times, in the bad times. I hear the sound of their voices. Singing, laughing, crying, yelling. I can still see them sitting in their places. We all had our places. Michael at the register on the cold winter mornings. Mom on the right side of the sofa, Dad on the left, the dog in the middle of them. Patrick always in his room. And me...curled up against mom. I was a mama's girl.
My home...it became mine some 24 years ago. Mine......children conceived here. A second generation raised here. The same joy. The same struggles. Three children once again fighting the same battles. Full circle.
Home. It is where the heart is. But more than that. It is where the soul is.
Tell Shutter Sisters about your home
Hey Asshole!
Large Rat
Apparently George Forbes, President of the local Cleveland are NAACP, doesn't know the difference and is incensed that Dorothy Richardson has been charged with cruelty to animals for beating a speckled back baby to death with a tool used for digging dirt.
Of course, the only reason she has been charged, are you ready, hold on to you head folks, get the duct tape out, sit down and open that Bud Light, I feel a beer summit on the horizon....drum roll please:
SHE IS BLACK!!!!!
I don't care what color she is...lock her ass up. I would have been happier if she would have shot the poor thing. Then at least it wouldn't have been screaming as she bludgeoned it to death with a large garden spade (no racial pun intended).
Wonder what Obama has to say about this?
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