Monday, March 27, 2017

We Went Home ... Home Is Where You Are

We Went Home ... Home Is Where You Are
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I am a spiritual being having a human experience ... take the body all is left is ... me. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

I sit quietly in the darkness
Waiting ... waiting to see a shadow
In the light of my mind

In time I see a shadow appear
It walks toward me
I hear a familiar voice ... "Mama"

My old eyes fill with hot tears
That run down my cool cheeks
My lips tremble as I sob inside

Tears mixed with the happiest of smiles
In this old grieving mother's eyes
I reach with my hand toward the voice

Toward the most precious voice
A mother can hear
"Mama" ... my frail body shook harder

Son!  I couldn't speak but, my Heart could!
Tommy!  I'm so glad you came so I wouldn't be alone
It's time for your ole mom to come home

Please hold my hand so I won't be afraid
I felt my hand being held by a big, gentle hand
My son had come to walk me home

I looked around me as I sat up in bed
I leaned over to kiss Skip goodbye ... I didn't want to leave him
I patted Camie on her sweet head

I rubbed Kissy's hip with my bare toes
As he lay by my bedside faithfully
I felt overwhelming happiness in my Heart

Tommy and I walked hand in hand
We walked through the door toward a kennel
I wanted him to meet Dukester before I left

I kissed Dukester on his sweet, white head
It was time ... time to go home
I turned to look at where I had lived

Knowing now I wouldn't live here again ... I missed Skip!
I was going home even as I thought
My soul had departed my body once I took Tommy's hand

For a moment I felt such pain to be leaving
Leaving my husband and our Pups
I looked toward Tommy ... he smiled ... said

It's alright, mama ... you have to let go
Once you do ... you'll come back one day
To be there, hold your hand out so, Skip won't be alone

I felt the weight of this world slide from my shoulders
Around my feet like a heavy coat
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes ... held my son's hand

I kept my eyes closed ... I didn't feel the need to look
As we soared ... I could see everything
Sadness slipped away as I held my son's hand

Now ... it was time to see what the mystery of death
Was all about ... where my son had been all these years
As I wept, grieved over him when he died

I became the air ... the soft, gentle breeze you feel
On a warm day ... I am the sunshine kissing your cheek
On a cloudy day I'm your raindrops falling to the ground

I will hug you like a blanket when you are cold
I'll wrap my pure soul around you to keep you safe
I love you, Skip ... I'm always here until the day

You need to come home ... you won't be alone
I'll reach my hand out to you just as Tommy did to me
He'll reach for your other hand ... we will go home

We'll wrap our souls around our remaining Pups
Whoever cares for them will take good care
Love them until their last days

Until the day comes we will walk with them to Rainbow Bridge
We will run, play in pure joy as they become Angel Pups
To forever play, run in the sunshine ... frolick in the rain

I closed my eyes on this life ... this is the end
I opened my eyes on the other side
I was a spiritual being having a human experience

Time to strip myself of this body
It served me well ... took a lot of life's abuse
I learned life's lessons became a better soul

Now ... on to my next mission ... being a guardian angel
Protecting, watching out for animals and humans
Working at making life be good to them

No longer a grieving mother ... I left that behind like a dress
In the darkness as I waited for the shadow to appear
The moment my son took my hand in his

I close my eyes as I remember
I become a storm ... the clouds begin to billow
The wind gets high ... the trees bend from the force

Any pain left in my soul ... washed away
I became a gentle storm until I began to shine
I was the sunshine ... a smile in my eyes, face

He sat outside on the swing, swinging to and fro
Pups lay at his feet as he closed his eyes
I felt him thinking of me ... I knew it was time

My mind met his with such joy ... I saw his hand reach
Out to me ... I moved toward him ... took his hand
He said ... "I've been waiting for you to take me home"

I felt another being close by ... Tommy had come to hold
Skip's other hand ... we wrapped around each Pup
Left behind ... we took their sadness away before we left

The world dropped away ... we became fresh air ... sunshine
Each soul renews the earth in its own way ... this was our way
When you think of us in any way ... it's because we are always near

If you are ever crying ... you feel someone kiss a tear away
If you are ever hot ... you feel a breeze from nowhere
You feel a hug .... look around ... no one is there

This is where we are at ... you are never alone
We'll be right here .... one day you may wait to see our shadow
One of us, all of us will come to hold your hand

You won't never be alone even though you think you are
Close your eyes .... feel with your Heart
We are here all around you ... we've become

The air you breathe ... sunshine that kisses your cheek
We are everywhere watching over you
We went home ... home is where you are

Note by this Author:

I wrote this poem as I felt it while sitting here in the semi-darkness listening to music ... I happened to look up and saw the name of one of the songs I was listening to ... 'Take My Hand'.  I'd never heard it before ... it's New Age music ... I love it but, I'm not familiar with the songs enough to know any by names.

I don't know what happens when one dies ... so far I've never found 'Tommy', my son.  I've always kept an eye opened ... hoping somehow the mystery of where he went would be discovered.  I guess I hoped I'd find an invisible pocket in the air ... where I could 'slip' into ... find, visit him, come back. Life, death doesn't work that way.  Sometimes ... I write poems and 'I do' find Tommy ... they are my poems, writings ... so, I can do what I want to in them, right?  :)

Photos owned by me.  I never use anyone else's photos.  Pond photo is of the beautiful little pond where we live.  Shadow photo is of myself when I was admiring having a 'skinny' shadow after weight loss.  We all are silly sometimes ... this was one of my silly moments.   Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

The Girl and Her Dog

The Girl and Her Dog

Watching from a distance I witnessed the love a girl had for her dog. It was beautiful. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I was sitting at my desk
When movement caught my eye
I looked out my glass door
Saw a girl and her dog

She was walking in her yard
With her beautiful Rottie
She held her umbrella over her head
She was dressed in black

Her umbrella was black ... gray
The Rottie's collar was pink
The girl kicked a pine cone toward her dog
As the pine cone flew in the air

The Rottie jumped to grab it in the air
I sat at my desk looking out my glass door
Smiled as I watched the both of them
I was looking into their world while sitting at home

What a beautiful picture they made
It wasn't only the picture they made ... it was
The pure love a girl has for her dog
Pure love a dog has for its most important person

The rain came down harder
I had begun typing what I saw
Looked up ... the girl and her dog was gone
They'd given me a glimpse of pure love

As I sat at my desk looking out my glass door
I looked out the glass door once more
Yes, they are gone back into the house
To live their life while I sit here ... write, live mine

Note by this Author:

I sat here at my desk this morning ... looked out the glass door to see my neighbor walking with her dog in the rain.  She is more than my neighbor ... her dog is more than just my 'neighbor's dog'.

The girl is one of our closest friends ... her dog is one who is a part of our everyday life ... we visit her each day, keep an eye on their home ... bring her outside for a while while the girl works.  We love them as if they were close family.  We love the girl and her dog ... the one walking with a black/gray umbrella and the dog with a pink collar.

Poem dedicated to Chelsea King and Angel King.  Owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

The Pond

 Photo of the pond owned/taken by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I'm like a pond ... my surface full of beauty ... sky, trees, flowers. I hide all that is sad in me ... beneath the surface. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

I look into the depths of the water
I see fish swimming below

Tadpoles of different sizes swim too
I saw the shadow of a turtle appear ... disappear

I sat down beside the pond to think
About how so much is below the water

Above the water I see all the beauty
Never seeing all beneath the surface

Only shadows of what is
Shadows that drift by as I watch

I think of myself ... grief ... happiness
Myself being the water in the pond

Myself as the pond
When you look at me you see the beauty

Of a good soul ... a sunshine smile
You never see what's below

Like the pond hiding all its wonders
Of what is ...what was

You never see the grief I feel every day
The invisible tears I shed

My smile, happy voice hides it all
As not to touch your life with my pain

Like the pond you can only see so far
Fish swimming happily along their way

A turtle drifts by ... tadpoles wiggle along
I smile because that's how I am ... like the pond

Note by this Author:

The pond fascinates me ... when I walk down to it I stand to see beneath the surface always looking for fish.  I watch to see what swims, drifts by.  I think a lot when I am at the pond ... compare it with how I feel.  No one ever knows what lies beneath the surface ... only what wants to come up to be seen is what you see ... just like me when I hide my pain, grief.  When you look at me ... you see what I want you to see ... on the surface you'll see a happy, sunshine smile even when I'm sad.  Why?  So as to not to touch your life with my pain.  When you come to read me ... you choose to walk in my world for just a time ... you choose to come read my pain ... without having to let me know you see it.  I hope somehow what you feel, think after reading all I've wrote ... could some day help in some way.  Maybe to see what a grieving mother goes through ... understand if you care about her.  Maybe ... a lot ... of things.  

Photo/poem owned/written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

If I Were a Stone ... This Is The Stone I Would Be

Photo owned, taken by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... the odd stone.

If I were a stone on a wall ... I would be the different one. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

I was getting ready to walk into a store
When I spotted the wall of stones

One stone fascinated me because it was different
It stood out to me begging to be photographed

I took my cellphone camera ... captured the image
So I could keep it forever

Who would stop to take a photo of one stone
Me ... of course

Why?  Because I asked myself a question
Which stone would ... I be ... on this wall of stones

I picked one stone that stood out to me
It was different ... white, soft colors of rust

The first stone on the left 7 rows down from the light
Do you see it ... see how different it is from the rest?

If I were a stone on this wall
This is the stone I ... would be

Note by this Author:

When looking at the wall of stones ... do you just see pretty stones/rocks?  Have you ever thought about ... being a stone?  Which stone would you be?

I'm always looking at things in a different way.  Looking at this beautiful wall of stones ... I wondered which I'd be ... the stone 7 rows down from the light fixture stood out to me.  

Photo ... poem owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

My Shadow Filled With Flowers

Photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny ... my shadow filled with flowers

I was walking while enjoying the sunshine, breeze
When I happened to look down

I stopped ... tilted my head to look on the ground
My shadow lay there ... filled with little purple flowers

Tiny, delicate little flowers the name I don't know
I know that I loved seeing my shadow full of flowers

For some reason, it made me happy 
To see the purple, green ... my favorite colors

Fill something so personal ... my shadow
I took a picture to look at as it fascinated me

It's the first time in my life I ever entertained the idea
Of shadows being filled with flowers

Much less ...
My shadow filled with flowers

Note by this Author:

Have you ever stopped to see something in a new light?  Sure you have just as I did when I stopped to admire my shadow filled with flowers with my favorite colors ... purple and green.

I saw my shadow filled with flowers with my favorite colors of purple, green. It's the first time in my life I ever stopped to see such. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Sunday, March 5, 2017

ME ... In The Mirror

I've found 'ME' in the mirror again after 6 years of being a grieving mother ... I think Tommy is smiling from above just like the sunshine. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Photos of ME ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee on March 04, 2017 ... in the mirror.  I have found 'ME' again.  March 04, 2017 ... Saturday

I recognize the woman in the photos above ... that's ME!  I am so happy to see me once again.  I never thought I would.  I have taken the pieces left of a grieving mother ... put them together again ... and ... here I am :)  Just like ... Humpty Dumpty ... all the pieces are put together again.  Now ... I just need to polish me up here, there.

Of course, I am older ... my skin isn't as young as it used to be.  My face shows lines, age.  I have weathered many, many storms most people never experience in several lifetimes. I have been toppled over by the high winds of Life ... knocked down by the bolts of pure shock over and over ... my tears have been more than an ocean-full.

When you think of 'Me' ... see 'Me' ... remember when you look at me ... I'm all the pieces you see put back together again.  Think of a Redwood Tree ... beaten, whipped by all the past storms ... I am what is left standing with all my invisible battle scars.  I managed to stand through all the hellacious storms that have come my way.

I am like a Redwood Tree ... I'm still standing.  If you just knew ... you would never believe what this 'tree' has survived.  You would be utterly amazed.  When I look back to the little child I was at one time until now ... it's a wonder I lived with the things inflicted upon me ... little girl have died never getting to live with their secrets.  I am fortunate.

So when you look at me ... see my life battle scars ... the years gone by on my face ... my body ... just know this is all I've got left now ... and I'm doing the best I can to pick up all my pieces ... put me back together again.  It doesn't matter if no one else likes how I look now ... what does matter is I can accept me now ... I can recognize the person I was before I was beaten down to nothing from the storm of grief I survived.

I'm so happy with me today ... I'm so happy to see ME in my mirror again.

Note by this Author:

I can't tell you how true all my words above are.  I can't tell you the happiness I'm finding in looking like a human being again ... looking like someone I know in the mirror again.

One of the most awful things in life is looking in the mirror and ... seeing a stranger.  It's really scary ... to live inside of a stranger you don't know looking back at you.  Does that sound strange?

Just think how it would feel. I have looked for so long ... now ... I have found Me.  I'm older and not as pretty, youthful as I once was ... I don't care ... I'll take what's left now :)

Photos/true story owned/written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

My Facebook Post This Morning


I was lost in the space of the big shirt you now see on my body. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Pups are fed breakfast ... I told Duke to get back into his cozy kennel cab with warm blankets ... he ran back and I reached in through the flap ... gave him his Oinkie to chew. He's so happy! I rolled his curtains up to let the sunshine kiss Duke's space warm today.<3

Kissy and Camie are in chew heaven this morning with their Oinkies. Both are laying near Skip so he can't move without them knowing it! <3

Yesterday a friend highlighted my hair! I PURE LOVE it! It's been a while since I've had that done. The Pups come first.

I looked in the mirror and smiled at myself this morning ... it feels so good to 'look like ME' again ... I've been looking so long. I'm thankful to have peace inside. Sometimes I feel Tommy is smiling at me ... before ... I couldn't feel that for seeing only my tears. <3

I feel he'd be proud of me today if he saw me <3 Sometimes I feel the most overwhelming sadness that Tommy is gone. I know this is normal. I miss him with my very Heart.

Once in a while I feel what I call 'the flutter of wings' in my stomach ... what I mean when I say that is like when birds are trapped in a cage and they panic to get out of the cage ... their wings begin to beat harder, harder to get out ... and begin to feel suffocation of being trapped in a space they need to be away from. I have to stop ... take deep breaths and get my mind on other things. I just felt the twinges of that feeling ... it's time to move to another subject <3

What a beautiful day it's going to be ... I feel there are happy surprises around the corner :) Isn't that a wonderful thought!? I'm moving forward ... never going backward into that darkness again. I truly am afraid of the dark ... more so ... since Tommy is gone. I keep my eyes on the light in my life, always going toward it. :)

Happy weekend! I send Love to all my Special Friends here! You have lifted me up so many times ... My Heart is always full of Gratitude <3 <3 <3Gloria Faye Brown Bates <3 <3 <3

You can see where 'I was lost' .... look at my shirt below in the photos! I can't believe it! I wore that big shirt just to see how it felt ... the sleeves are too long and you see all the 'space' around me :) <3 I don't make fun of it ... I know how it feels to 'be fat' ... I will never make fun of me being fat ... and NEVER make fun of anyone being 'fat'.

It hurts too bad when one wants to be smaller .... losing weight is the HARDEST thing one can do. I don't think I would be amiss in comparing it to quitting smoking ... quitting drinking ... quitting drugs.

Thankfully I don't have all those things to 'quit' ... the weight was enough. Don't think for one second just because you get the gastric sleeve surgery ... that you are magically going to lose all the weight while you eat .... you will never-ever do it.

I promise you from experience you ARE GOING to have to exercise, walk ... do your part. IT ISN'T THE EASY WAY OUT. Take this from someone who knows firsthand.

I can tell you that each morning when I shower ... I am PURE excited now to put my jeans on ... put a belt on. I love dressing again. The clothes I have now are getting too big but, I wear them with pride :) <3 I am trying to fill myself with all the happiness I can and guess what ... this happiness is 'free'. When I feel the sadness I know will come periodically from the loss of my son ... I want to have so much happiness inside that it will be easier to bounce back from. I mean to do that <3
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Thursday, February 23, 2017

Rescue Dog Who Went to Heaven on Earth ... Guardian Angels and All

Sharing My Story Here From

Dukester Garroway Bates ... one of The Pups ... and Skip Bates ....

We literally 'plucked' a dog from Hell on earth ... we are his Guardian Angels for Life. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates.

The Dog From Hell is Now ... The Dog In Heaven ... Guardian Angels For Life

Duke is one happy Pup now.  He has the cleanest, neatest kennel in town.  Every day I go inside to visit him ... Skip visits him.  We sit on top of the dog house to talk to him.

Yesterday ... we rearranged all inside his kennel.  Across the back wall/fence ... Duke has 3 beds ... yes, places to choose for all types of temperatures to sleep, lay on.

To the left when you walk in ... he has his new doghouse ... it is 'wrapped' in a weatherproof, windproof, quilted covering .... inside the dog house is full of cedar shavings.  He has a flap that he goes through.

To the right is his big kennel cab (the door is taken off) ... inside it are soft blankets for him to lay on ... it is wrapped like a cocoon on the outside with a soft down comforter, and another weatherproof, windproof, quilted covering.  The door has a canvas flap where he can lay, stick his head out to see [em]happy[/em]  He loves to do that.

In the middle of both doghouse, kennel cab ... there is a soft, cozy bed in the middle (the long part of the white, soft down comforter and the weatherproof, silky-like material).  Duke pure loves laying here.  He can lay there when he wants to be out in the open.  He can look all around him while he is on this middle bed.

Each day I go out numerous times to make sure Duke is doing well ... I refresh his floor, bed ... check his house, kennel cab to make sure all is neat.  I kept his floor clean ... it is covered in cedar shavings.  Skip and I love to go visit him each day.  I make sure his dry food in his big bowl is full ... and water buckets have fresh water.

Duke used to live in H___  ... Duke lives in Heaven now.  We are his guardian angels here on earth.

Note by this Author:

Photo, true story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

We rescued Duke on January 17, 2017 from H___.  For 2 months prior to finally getting him in our care ... Duke suffered living on the end of a heavy chain ... he froze to the ground twice on that chain that trapped him, wrapped around trees and stumps ... he couldn't get back to his house.

On our watch, Duke is living good.  We love this sweet, innocent Pup.  We are his guardian angels.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Memories Are My Stories Today

Memories From Yesterday Are My Stories Today ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Grandma Alma and George ... I truly loved these two souls with my very being ... Grandma and George ... 1978.

This is what grief, pain, sadness looks like.  When my son, Tommy, died ... I died for several years never knowing I could smile, live again.

 I was three years old in this photo ... this is the age I began to hate my name when a man called it ... 'Faye-eeeeee'.
This is my mother when she was a little girl ... she looks sad in this photo.  I wish I could go back and know why.  Maybe she had learned to hate her name too.
 This is my mother as a young girl ... she looks happy in this photo.  I smile back at her happy smile.
 This is my mother as a young woman with my favorite brother ... Rick-Rick as a little boy.  Rest in peace, Mom and Rick-Rick.  My Heart breaks thinking of you both.
My beautiful mother with her long, curly hair ... when I was little I thought she was a princess and I wanted to be just like her.
My beautiful mother as a young woman full of pride, strength ... as she grew older ... she became very sad.

I remember my mother when she was full of life ... just plain wonderful to be around!  I wish my mother could have known happiness her whole life.
My beautiful mother ... everyone always called her 'Elizabeth Taylor' and said she was the most beautiful woman around.
I can remember wanting to go outside to play with the other children when standing at the window in the little dark room.
I was 6 years old in this photo ... these were my 'princess days'  ... three years later I was thrown into Hell.


Damn ... thank God for memories ... because they aren't the present. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

From a tiny girl to this day ... my memories became stories of yesterday.  As a young girl I never knew I would be writing like I do ... today.

What everyone knew though was ... I wrote the longest letters anyone ever heard of.  I wrote 24-26 page letters to my mother, cousins when I lived away from them.

I would draw pictures to send, also.  My envelopes were the prettiest ... I would draw pictures on them ... color them with markers, pens.

That's 'where I wrote' ... in my letters.  Writing letters, drawing were some of my 'talents' as a younger person.  No one ever said you will grow up to be a writer ... enjoy writing.  They always thought I'd grow up to be a fashion designer ... as a child I had ideas for beautiful clothes.  I would make my own paper dolls ... draw, design their clothes.

I discovered something I thought amazing when I got into my twenties ... a Frederick's of Hollywood's catalog!  Why was it amazing?  Because I was already drawing clothes like some of the models wore!

I'll never forget that feeling as I looked through my first Frederick's of Hollywood catalog.  Sure, the clothes were, are sexy ... that wasn't on my mind ... the designs were what I 'knew' from my own drawings as I grew up!

I heard his voice as he guided my hand underneath the covers.  I was too young to understand why I was standing beside his bed.  I just knew someone with authority had called my name ... "Faye-eee"

He had called it softly as I walked through the hallway by his door.  How was I to know what in this world he wanted?  That's one of my earliest memories ... I was probably 3-4 years old.  That wasn't a good memory.

Running in the sunlight, squealing ... laughing ... I stood in the darkened pantry watching the other children play.  I wasn't old enough to question why? I was isolated in this tiny room which in reality was a pantry with shelves of cans of food.

I remember the feeling of 'I want to play!'  I'll never forget the memory of the light coming through the window ... all was mostly dark around me.  Sometimes, through the years I see photos that give me a flashback to that moment as a tiny girl.  Photos that are taken from inside a dark room, camera aimed toward a window ... capturing the window full of daylight.  It doesn't bother me today ... it used to.

The man came into the room ... gently laid my little body down on the floor.  He put a cookie in my hand ... everything goes black.  I can't remember anymore.  This man was my uncle ... he was babysitting the children.  I was too little to have the vocabulary to tell anyone what happened ... to this day ... I'm still 'too little' to see past the darkness.  So, this isn't a whole memory from ... yesterday.

I was panicky ... why were those people laughing, hollering 'Praise the Lord' so loudly?  I was in a line of people with the wonderful black lady who cared for my little brother and I.  We loved her with our Hearts.  She was one of my best memories.  She came every day to our home when I was small.  She cleaned our home, cooked, and did our clothes ... and best of all ... she sat, told us wonderful stories!

I've never forgotten Josephine and her daughter, Maxine all this time.  I never got to see them all through the years ... I've wished to.  They gave me some good memories as a little girl when sadly ... there weren't a lot of.  I remember running to her and hugging her around her legs.  I was a little girl so happy to see someone I loved.

I never grew up knowing color ... my memory of my first real friend was another little girl ... I didn't know we weren't the same color.  I knew I loved her ... her little smiling face, sparkling eyes full of joy glad to see me as I was to see her.  Looking back I can see her grandmother standing over a big, black cast iron pot next door in the yard.  She had this long stick ... stirring white sheets.  I can see her smiling at me.  I smile at this moment to her memory in my past.

Praise the Lord!  The man hollered, shaking his head side to side.  I could see sweat on his skin.  Looking back I can see the man was a black man ... he was praising God in his own way.  As the little girl in this memory of mine ... the line moved slowly toward something not very far ahead of us.  I kept trying to stretch taller to see ... I never could.  My little brother was with us ... he was smaller than I.  He just followed along.

I was the one with the curiosity that sometimes led me down paths in life ... I hurried back from as quickly as possibly when I learned I wasn't tough enough, big enough ... mean enough, bad enough to keep traveling.

Some of these paths I took in my life I won't ever talk about to anyone.  There are memories one can speak of ... tell to others to tell a story ... there are some that can only cause grief when it's unnecessary to hurt people.  I would never hurt anyone even if I was the one done wrong.  Why?

I care ... that's the only answer I can give.  Only several people ever knew what I went through ... they always have been protective of me through my life.  I'm a very private person ... because of things in my life I can never share with others.  Some people talk about everything ... I don't talk about everything.

I go on to ... forget.  There are things in life that are best to let go ... forget ...  if you can get up from the ground when they happen ... it's best to just walk on ... dusting off your ass ... never look back ... pretend it never happened.  Just like some are doing with our very real history today ... just forget it ... it never happened.  We all knew it did ... but, we don't want to think about it.  So, if we don't think about it ... it isn't there staring us in the eye. Remember the saying, 'out of sight ... out of mind'.

Josephine had tears on her face.  Shiny tears rolled down her dark skin shining in the overhead light.  She smiled ... sadly.  She was muttering words softly ... I couldn't understand.  All that noise!  Everyone was laughing, talking, hollering ... I turned my head this way ... that way to look up at everyone.  They were crying at the same time!  I was too little to understand ... and I began to be afraid.

I held Josephine's hand tightly ... my little brother held her other hand.  We were the only little white people there.  Did anyone pay us any mind?  If they did, I don't remember.  I remember people were gentle, kind to us.  I don't think they saw us as different.  I don't remember seeing them as ... different.  Only different words when describing.

There it was!  A long box ... a black man lay on soft white, puffy material.  He was asleep.  I remember looking at the man ... he was smiling slightly.  He had on a suit, white shirt.  The noise around me was grief, happiness that this man had finally 'went home to be with the Lord'.  This was my first encounter with ... grief.  I was too little to understand ... I was at a funeral.  Josephine had taken my little brother and I to her church to a funeral.

Another early memory was when Josephine told us something that stayed in my mind as a child.  The world was coming to the end ... soon.  I would feel panic until enough things happened to make me forget.

I remember being dressed in the most beautiful dresses my Grandmother Lola would bring when she visited me.  She paid a lot of money for them.  I was a pretty little princess at one time ... dressed in the prettiest clothes, lacey socks, black patented shoes.  My hair was below my waist ... curly like my beautiful mother's hair was.

I was a little princess until age nine ... my castle turned into a roach-infested, rat-infested, dirty dungeon.  Truthfully ... not a dungeon ... but, a house full of such unhappiness but, full of love for me.  My Grandma Alma and the only grandfather I ever knew ... George (he was my step-grandfather ... I never knew the difference).  I pure loved Grandma Alma, George.

Grandma Alma was paralyzed ... George was blind.  This was Hell where they lived.  This was where everyone unwanted ended up at.  Grandma Alma, George did their best to care for everyone ... looking back ... oh my God ... they were the ones who needed to be cared for.  Their every day was pure Hell ... I don't know how they did it.

Many memories came from Hell ... I learned to hate hearing a man saying, whispering my middle name (everyone called me that) ... 'Faye-eeeeeeee'.  I would feel dread knowing what they were trying to do ... try to get away from them.

I hated my name 'Faye' ... to this day ... I pure hate being called 'Faye'.  It opens the door to awful memories ... some I can't bear to think about.

Don't ... ever ... call ... me ... Faye.  I might not ever answer, speak to you.  I am a very nice person, one of the nicest people ... depending on the mood I'm in ... I just might tell you to 'go to Hell' ... that's where I learned when I was called 'Faye-eeee' ... bad things happened.

Memories are my stories today ... they are what I write about.  I write about grief.  I write about pain, sadness.  Why do I write about such things?  Because I have known them best in my life ... one should only write about things they know.  This is what I have known.  I can write about happy, funny, good things too.

So when I write ... you read ... don't worry about me regressing to the past.  Don't think I live in the past ... always moaning, groaning, whining and crying 'woe is me'.  Don't think I'm wallowing in my pain like a pig wallowing in mud.  Don't think I'm close to a breakdown because I can't cope with my grief.  I have to remind my readers to NOT do this.  Truthfully ... I am alright.  I've coped with, put these things to rest ... I have peace inside today.  It's just that ...

My memories from yesterday are my stories today.

Note by this Author:

If I couldn't write about my Life ... all I've personally experienced ... I wouldn't have a thing to write about.

I have to remind my followers from time to time to just read my stories no matter how painful, sad ... just understand 'I'm in the moment' ... when I write about different things.

It's like acting ... how can I make you feel at least some of what I have experienced without you actually experiencing it yourself?

You can through my words and then ... go on with your own life.  Who knows ... maybe my words can help good things to happen in your life ... you can avoid things that happened to me.

Maybe my words could, can make a positive difference in your life ... I pray so.

Photos/true story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

In My Father's House

In My Father's House

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo of Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
with her father ...

This is one of the several photos of the father I never knew.  I went to see him when I was in my late twenties.  I never knew the smiles he gave me that day while living with him.

As in my nature ... I smile back at everyone who smiles at me, shows me kindness.  I smiled a lot at him that day trying to see what it felt like to have a loving father.  He seemed proud of his oldest daughter that day.

 Don't you agree sometimes ... it's best not to look at old photographs?  They bring about sadness, pain and wondering what things could have been like 'if'...

Sadly, my father died ... we never had an opportunity to see what it felt like to be father and daughter.  I wish ...

You talk to your mother all the time.  You trust, ask, tell her your private thoughts, ideas you wouldn't trust even your best friend with.  Why?  You trust her ... she's your mother.  You can be 'you' with her ... she knows exactly who her child is.  You know who she is ... mama.

Your mother will talk to you just as she talked to you as a child.  She will worry for you and hope you'll make wise decisions.  She's always there for you no matter what.  Why?  Because you are her child ... mothers are like that.  You are her baby no matter how old.

I don't know about fathers but, mine would ignore me when I lived with him.  He was afraid to speak to me ... because of making my step-mother angry at him.  When he spoke 'to me' ... it was different ... he made it sound gruff, angry.

When I spoke to him I spoke with respect ... just as if he was a stranger.  I may have been his oldest child ... but, my stepmother made it impossible for him to love me.  His anger was to hide any paternal feelings toward me.

No one would know we were father-daughter excepting ... I favored him ... a lot.  Listening to us ... one would think I was a polite, well-mannered girl speaking to an older man.  They would think the man didn't like me no matter how nicely I spoke to him.  His smile at me never quite reached his eyes.

My sisters spoke to him in a very familiar way.  They spoke to him like the daddy he was to them.  They had grown up with him ... I didn't have opportunity to.  He would tease, laugh, cut-up with them.  I loved to hear them ... I longed to know what it felt like for a father to love me.  You know ... a daddy.

Whenever I met my father in the doorway ... I felt fear.  I dreaded what would come next.  He would give me an angry glare ... and I hoped he would walk on through the doorway before me ... he would stand ... wait for me to go through.  He would nod his head for me to.  It was always awkward ... and it made me feel nervous all the time.  He would jump out of the way for me to go by.  Oh, the pain I felt in my young Heart.

I always jumped to do any chore with a smile ... when I did it to my best ability ... I would go the extra mile.  I would do just a little more than asked to do while thinking 'that will make them love me more, they'll be glad I'm here'.  No matter what I did ... my dad would sit back ... make sarcastic comments to me.  He would say I did things so someone would notice me.  He was right ... I did them to be loved.  It didn't work ... nothing worked.

I went to school ... came home ... went to the bedroom and sat on the bed ... studied.  I would stare at the words in my book ... my stomach would be tied in knots at what comments to come my way that evening.

I couldn't eat ... no one seemed to notice.  I didn't until I ran away one day ... and saw how little I was ... and even pretty!  I never saw myself while living at my father's house.  I remember how boys would whistle ... never knowing it was me ... I always looked around to see who they whistled at.  No one would be there ... I still didn't realize.  The day I ran away ... my eyes begin to open ... I began to see me.  I was just a being at my father's house.

The day my daddy slapped me in the face was the day I planned to run away.  That was the first, last time he slapped me.  That slap did something to me ... it devastated me ... it destroyed any love I had for my father.  It also, destroyed any feelings I had toward my step-mother, sisters.

I was slapped because one of my sisters lied on me.  My youngest sister was always getting into mischief ... I would get myself in trouble ... say I did something to keep her from being grounded.  Why?  I was the big sister, I truly loved her.  Sadly, she and my other sister never formed a bond with me.  I would get into trouble for them because I hoped they would see my love for them ... hoped they'd love me in return.  It never happened.

The lie my youngest sister told on me brought about the whole, ugly incident.  My step-mother screamed at me in the bathroom where I was ... my father stepped in to see what was wrong.  She told him I was the one who had used his razor, left it in his bathroom unwashed.

She triggered something inside him that made him very angry ... he took his strong hand, slapped me so hard I almost fainted.  It may have been anger from the time I was born until that day when I was fourteen ... I felt all his rage.  Did he try to slap me back into the past ... before I was born?  It truly felt that way ... I can still feel the shock to this day ... the pain, grief of knowing my father hated me.  He only told me he loved me ... one time.  I'll write about that one day.

My step-mother took advantage of his anger to begin slapping me in my face until my nose bled blood all over everything in the bathroom.  It seemed it went on forever.  All over a lie ... all over something I didn't know about until I was accused of it.

That was the day I began to plot how to run away from them.  That was the day I began to hate my father, his wife, his other two daughters.  To this day ... I don't hate them.  I forgave many years ago.  I look back ... I wonder if anyone ever felt bad for mistreating a young girl so badly.

I lived in a beautiful home ... spotless.  I dressed in the nicest clothes all ironed, starched.  Everyone smiled ... was happy ... family sounds all around.  Laughter, squeals from the children.  Fun, teasing talk to them from the parents.  I lived in the best family ... only I wasn't a part of them excepting being my father's child.

Just because you talk to someone doesn't mean that is the same person I talk to ... your father could be my brother. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Note from this Author:

These are some of the thoughts I had today ... when thinking about how when we talk to the same person ... the person you talk to isn't the one I talk to.

When I spoke to my father ... it was to a stranger.  When my sisters spoke to my father ... it was to their daddy who loved them.

When you speak to someone ... always know you speak to them as you know them ... another person comes up will speak to them as they know them ... you will never speak to the same person the other is talking to.  Think about it.

Life can be very sad ... we see ... feel it in our minds, Hearts when we are older.  It's sad we all can't go back ... start over again ... do away with all the pain, hurt, grief left behind in the past.  I'm sure my father would have done differently.  He didn't want to anger his second wife ... risk losing his other children.  I understand ... have understood for many years.  It still doesn't take the sadness away of what could have been.

Photo/true story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.