Sunday, March 1, 2015

Fabric of Life ...



Fabric of Life ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates


Photo is of Tommy's Chest, with his photo sitting on top.  Photo/poem are both owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.



It strikes without warning.  It'll knock you on your ass ...to the very ground you stand on. 
The pain is so great, you feel it all over... not in just one place
Scream all you want, it won't do you any good
It's not going away... until it's 'good and ready'


Struggle all you want, pull your hair, gnash your teeth
You may as well pretend you're in Hell, go with the flow
You won't get out of this, I see no way
Yes, you are going to take it until... you can't take anymore


Grief... yes, grief.  If you don't know it... go away, this isn't for you
If you never lost a loved one, there's no way you'll understand
You go your way, I'll go mine... you can't follow here
I don't need, nor... do I want you, you can't understand


Is grief on earth the same as being in Hell?
I ask because I know no worse feeling than losing a loved one
A loved one who has died, quit living.... moving, talking
Someone who was a part of your life, your taperstry


Your child, your person... part of your life fabric
Now, there's a huge hole in the fabric of life... your life
That can never be filled... there's nothing to fit in it

Once that hole is there... it's a forever hole


Saturday, February 28, 2015

Just Because I'm Older ... Doesn't Mean I've Forgotten How To Dance!








Photos of a younger Granny Gee who could really dance; and an older Granny Gee who hasn't forgotten ... and still do a few of the moves :)  Artwork by me in bottom photo ... all owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ...


Mm-mmmm, I can still do that! I used to be a 'good' dancer! Just because I'm older ... doesn't mean my body forgot how to dance! It doesn't mean that ... I can't dance, anymore.


Okay, okay ... so, it hurts more, since this body has become older. I know sometimes, if I try to dance ... my body gets stuck in a strange position. It hurts like ... heck. Really.


I've had so much surgery ... that things 'feel' much different. I watch little videos on the computer ... of senior citizens doing 'remarkable' things. I think ... 'why, I can do that'!


You hear of senior citizens defending themselves ... shocking the heck out of their attackers! We all love that. Just because someone is 'old' ... doesn't necessarily mean they are weak, senile ... helpless.


Sure, they need help doing something, at times. Think about it ... if you were thrust into a life-threatening situation ... you would become stronger, quicker ... fight to the death, if needed. I know I would. No matter how old, weak I had become ... I would do something 'remarkable', if possible.  Older people don't ... forget.


I'm a little older, little fatter ... have some gray in my hair (I have it covered up ... so, nobody can 'see that I got older :). Having saying this ... doesn't mean I've forgotten how to dance!


I might look like a little, fat butterball with legs ... but, I promise you ... I haven't forgotten how to dance. :)

Friday, February 27, 2015

Marching To The Beat Of A Different Drum ... Dancing To Many Songs

Marching To The Beat Of A Different Drum ... Dancing To Many Songs
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




Artwork by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  I have many drums I march to ... I love to draw, write, decorate, create ... the list goes on.  I dance ... to many songs.





I've been having the same thought go through my mind a lot lately.  Each time I catch up my Facebook page, Precious Camie's Facebook page ... then, do my stories for my different sites ... I read along the way.  I read what others are writing about on Facebook, and on the writing sites I go to.

The thought comes to my mind ... social media is about everyone 'marching to the beat of a different drum'.  Hundreds of thousands of different drums ... wow!

Have you ever thought about it?  Isn't it amazing that so many people who are different from each other ... can be together in the same place ... get along?  I know there are places online where people are always bickering, finding reason to get angry.  I'm not talking about their kind of 'drums'.

Thankfully, I'm not on sites like that ... and when I encounter such, I get as far away as possible. Like people who are natural-born troublemakers ... hell-raisers ... I don't want them in my life.  The first part of my life was filled with such ... I didn't have a choice ... I was a child.

Imagine ... different bands playing different songs ... passing, repassing each other ... they all smile at each other ... go their own ways ... marching to the beat of a different drum.  Everyone gets along. Everyone ... respects the other, and the fact ... that they are all different.

People open themselves up, trusting that others will be good to them, not hurt them. Our social media reflects who we are by our interests ... we put photos, posts on it ... to show what drum ... we are marching to.

I march to not one drum, but ... many.  I am interested in so many things ... so, I not only march to the beat of a different drum ... I dance to many songs.  :)

Have you ever thought about this ... in this way?  That everyone marches to the beat of a different drum?  Dances to many songs?


Photos/article owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Thursday, February 26, 2015

It's A Winter Wonderland ... Out There

It's A Winter Wonderland ... Out There
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee





I took photos of the snow, and Pups ... our snowstorm 2-25 & 26, 2015.  Photos taken by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




I can't believe it ... it snowed again!  Not only snowed again ... but, really snowed a ... for-real, thick, beautiful blanket of white!

Our Pups, Camie and Kissy love it, but ... they want to hurry back inside to be dried off.  Camie runs circles in the snow ... Kissy tried to, but ... his right leg is injured.  It slows him down.

I really didn't want anymore snow.  Last week, it was very messy, and a not so pretty snow, at all.  Well, this snow is a very beautiful snow ... one that invites you to come outside to play in it.

My mind is on making a bowl of snow cream later, today.  Not only that ... putting snow in a sparkling, clean glass ... pour Pepsi on it!  That's 'my special something' ... to do when there's a 'worthy' snow such as this!  What is your 'special something' to do?

I will get the snow off the picnic table, or Skip's pickup.  It looks to be about six inches of snow.  I can get clean snow ... it's thick enough.

Skip said he wanted me to make him a 'snow angel'.  Now, can you see me doing that ... making a Granny Gee angel?  :)  I just can't bring myself to lay down in the snow ... but, then again ... I have been known to do the ... unexpected.  :)  Who knows?  He may have to help me get up, ha!

There are over 212,000 people without electric power in North Carolina, right this minute (7:58 am on 2-26-2015).  I am so sorry ... I know how it feels.  We are fortunate.  I am grateful.  It's cold outside!

I'm going to sit here, enjoy the view outside our door!  The wind is blowing the snow, making it look like a blizzard ... reminding me of the real blizzards we have been in ... out west!  I am going to let the snow put me in a trance ... daydream!

It's a winter wonderland ... out there.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Diamond Tears and Colorful Rainbows ...


BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE




My Son, Tommy ... holding his son, Taban.  I miss you, Son.  Each day, I cry for my Son ... no one ever knows that I do ... I never tell anyone.  It's one of those things a grieving mother does ... that can't be shared.




I was looking at photos, reading yesterday when... I stopped and just sat looking... wondering 'why' one photo had my attention.



It came to me... I was looking at a rainbow and it looked like the one I saw through my tears... at the funeral home.  I remember walking outside and I heard someone say 'look!  there's a rainbow'! 



I remember looking at the sky and seeing through my numbness, shock ...a beautiful rainbow that shimmered through the tears in my eyes.  I blinked my eyes and my tears sparkled like diamonds, making that rainbow forever a part of 'me'... in my memory.



It was the second rainbow I saw through my tears... when my mom died... and this one... when Tommy died.  I was like in another world... seeing both.  It was so ... strange... so beautiful.



Today I was in my art room, organizing things when I became aware that ... I was crying.  I had moved Tommy's chest and the photo I have of him smiling that precious 'Tommy' smile ... I always keep that photo sitting on top of his chest.



I was crying softly and didn't even know it.. it's strange to 'find yourself crying'.  It hurts so much ... I'm doing it now.  I never knew I would cry so much in my life.



I was thinking just for a moment when I moved his chest to dust it... I wonder if I can open it.  I opened it just a tiny crack to slip a photo of Taban (his little son) in it... I couldn't open it any farther.  I wonder 'why I'm not strong enough'?  It's just a simple action... you just lift the lid up... simple as that.  All I have left of you is the upholstered chest, and the contents in it.



I have to say truthfully, even though I know... yes, I really know it isn't possible ... I wish so much my son was living.  I wish so much to hear his familiar voice, his laugh... to see the twinkle in his eyes... to hear his 'cowardly lion' laugh that used to put me in hysterics... I would laugh so much.



I loved hearing him do impression of Billy Bob Thornton.  Do you know it still seems like it was 'just yesterday' I was talking to him?  'Just yesterday'... I hugged him goodbye...I watched him drive down the driveway, grinning... waving to me.  I didn't know we were waving... for the last time.  I just didn't know that....



I can never look at a rainbow without thinking of him... I see it through my tears because I feel pain when I do.  I think of my mom, too. 



Seeing rainbows through my tears... happy colors with a shimmery, clear veil of my tears.  I remember when I used to look at them without tears... those days are gone.




Diamond tears and colorful rainbows... how sad and beautiful the two are... how so sad and beautiful they are.




Photo/story are owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee    I wrote this some time, ago.  

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Sign On Pet Door ... Slow Down!



Sign On Pet Door ... Slow Down!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee






Our Rottie ... Kissy Fairchild, loves to run, play ... with Precious Camie, our Australian Blue Heeler/mixed.  Sometimes, they can get quite rowdy.

Kissy has hurt his hip, running through the pet door.  At least, we feel like that is what has happened.  He is limping ... and it's his right leg.  We are all the time, massaging it for him.

They love to play, run ... out the pet door, to go out into their fenced-in yard.  Sometimes, they chase each other ... sometimes, someone blows a horn ... or whistles.  We asked them not to.  They understood ... and won't do it in the future.

Kissy will go to the doc-doc (our vet) next Wednesday.  He'll have a x-ray to determine what is wrong.  He'll also, get his nails trimmed.

He is stiff when he gets up from lying down.  We worry about him.  I came up with a way to stop Kissy, and Camie from running in, and out of their pet door.  I made a sign, taped it to their pet door!

Now ... if they stop running in, and out ... I'll know they can read!  They are very smart!  :)  It's easy to see the sign ... it's taped to their pet door!




Photo/story are owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates.  I made the sign, also :)

Monday, February 23, 2015

A Pure, White Snowflake ...

A Pure, White Snowflake...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




















Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... 2015



I thought I saw a snowflake fall from the sky
I stood there watching for others that would surely come
Another snowflake fell on my nose
As two more fell on my cheek

I felt excitement inside my heart
It's snowing, it's snowing
I wanted to run, and twirl around
Like a little girl, a little child

This is the effect snow has on me
It makes me feel happy, light in heart
I want to make snow cream
Eat it by the crackling fireplace

I love to snuggle up in my warm coat
Along with a colorful scarf
Put my soft mittens to my face
Close my eyes, feel such happiness

It's snowing, it's snowing
There's no telling how deep it'll get
I don't care how deep it'll be
I just want to play in the snow like a child

Forget all my grief, sadness
That weighs down my heart
I want to be like a snowflake
Run, twirl, fall to the white ground

Look up into the sky as the flakes
Fall on me, into my face
I'm a snowflake on the ground
No thoughts, no sadness, no pain

I jump up and run, twirl around
My hair turns white with all the snow
I have no thoughts to cause me pain
Because I can only concentrate on... being a snowflake

All I can see is white
All I can feel is white
I know nothing more than

Being a snowflake... a pure, white snowflake

Sunday, February 22, 2015

It's Good To Be Back Home ...

It's Good To Be Back Home ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... 2014



Standing on the threshold ... one foot in the door
Death reached out its dark hand to pull me in
I'm here to escort you home ... come in

Looking past him, into a void
Shadows everywhere ... no sunshine, here
Flames began to leap, trying to burn my soul

I'm at the door of Hell ... this isn't where I belong
At the wrong door, I'm almost too weak
To try to go to the right door ... where I belong

I'm not perfect, I'm not bad ... I'm a good person
I don't belong in Hell ... I'm not staying here
Poof! My soul takes off in flight ... I land on another step

In front of it, was another door ... a door made of gold
I know instantly I'm where I belong
Heaven's door ... knock, knock ... open the door

The door opened ... golden light spilled out onto me
Warming my very soul ... let me in, this is where I want to go
The angel of white ... reached out to take my hand

She had a welcoming smile on her beautiful face
Her wings fluttered gently, creating a soft breeze
This is where I want to go ... I see white figures walking around

I reached for her hand, I knew this was where I belonged
No matter, I wasn't perfect ... only as good as I could possibly be
As soon as she took my hand ... she became still

It's not time for you to come home, she said
Though, you do belong here in Heaven
No matter, you aren't perfect ... you're good as you can be

You have to go back, now ... you have a purpose
It's up to you to find, know what it is you have to do
Stay good as you can possibly be ...

So, you can come back to Heaven's door ... take my hand
Let me welcome you to Heaven, where you belong
Go, now ... you can't come home yet ... one day you can

Poof!  I open my eyes to see ... I'm in a hospital room
I hear people talking, see them standing over me
I smile up at them ... it's good to be back home!


Poem, photo ... both are owned (written) by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Please Don't Bully Me ...

Please Don't Bully Me ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




Gloria Faye Brown ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... I was a little girl, once.


 

Her stomach felt as if someone had placed a brick in the bottom of it. She tried to take a deep breath ... it kept becoming stuck ... making her chest hurt. I don't want to go! I don't want to go!

Anyone glancing her way way, could see a little girl standing at the bus stop. The wind blowing her curly hair. She was a cute, little girl ... just a little chubby. Chubby enough, to be teased by other children.

Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear!

Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair!

Fatty, Fatty ... two by four ... can't get through the bathroom door!

Fat bitch ... you are a fat bitch!

She heard the bus coming ... she felt faint. She couldn't take a deep breath ... it stayed stuck in her chest. She knew once she got on the bus ... bad things would happen to her.

She had no one to tell ... no one to protect her. She had to take the abuse dealt to her. She was but, a little girl. She lived in Hell ... she wasn't big enough, yet ... to give Hell back when it was deserved. If only she could turn into a lion ...

The bus stopped in front of her ...she could see the yellow ... hear the air ... the door opened. She tripped on the step, trying to climb up. She heard laughter ... her face was on fire. It was just beginning ...

As she walked down the aisle, looking for a seat ... she saw children deliberately sliding to the edge of the seat ... to make sure she couldn't sit down. The little girl was left standing in the aisle ... the bus moved on. She was very afraid ...

She almost fell to the floor ... the pain was great. She looked to see who had pushed her. The big boy named Dallas, had pushed her. He was glaring at her, daring her to say a word. His girlfriend, Peggy, was sitting beside him ... laughing. No mercy was in her eyes.

The little girl felt hot tears flow down her face. Dallas tormented her every day of her life, when she went to school. She didn't want to ride the damn bus.

Grandma Alma and George wanted her to be safe, ride the bus. She was hurt every day ... both physically, mentally. She'd rather die, than to ride the bus. Her mind began to think ... how she could just ... die.

She never saw any peace. Life hurt at every turn ... nothing she could do was right. Screamed, cussed at when at home ... picked on by big kids at school, teachers. No peace ... her young life was in turmoil, constantly.

Pain spread into her head. The boy had slapped her in the back of her head. She began crying ... she didn't mean to, but ... she couldn't stop herself. She never wanted anyone to see that they had hurt her.

Her tears were fuel to the fire ... Dallas hit her again in her back, shoving her forward ... she fell down to her knees. No one helped her as she tried to get up. She knew this would be the last time she rode the bus ... she'd die first before ever getting on this bus, again.

She knew where pills were ... Grandma Alma had lots of bottles of medicine. She knew what she was going to do. She hated Dallas, and his girlfriend ... hated everybody but, Grandma Alma, George.

She hated her mama; her mama had left her where no one wanted her ... left her in everyone's way. They hated her. She begged her mama not to leave her ... she wouldn't let her mom kiss her goodbye, before she left. Her mama was leaving her again. I hate you, mama!

That evening she came home ... after surviving the bus ride. She was angry, hurt. She wasn't big enough ... yet ... to fight back. She would be, one day. For now, she wasn't.

She was going to fight like hell one day if someone had the nerve to put their hands on her ... she would tear their asses up! She ... would hurt them back.

You are nothing but, a goddam he-man! Alright, goddamn it, I'm a damn he-man! She could hear Grandma Alma, and George cussing, as she walked up to the screen door. Everywhere she went, someone was angry ... her stomach felt sick. She wanted to die ... she had no where to go ... if she ran away, no one would care.

Cussing, arguing ... they raved on. Grandma Alma was paralyzed from a stroke. She only had one good hand ... she dragged one leg behind her, when walking on her walker.

George was blind ... there were conflicting stories about how he came to be blind. George could do amazing things ... as a blind man. Not only could he do amazing things ... he was the kindest man the little girl ever knew ... but, now ... he was cussing up a storm ... sounded like thunder... he was so loud.

Sometimes ... Grandma Alma, and George didn't know they got everyone tickled. Sometimes ... they were funny. Sometimes ... they were startled when all was quiet ... and out of the blue, George would thunder!

She walked slowly inside, through the living room ... into the middle room (as an adult ... she nicknamed the middle room ... 'the arena' ... it was where Hell broke loose; where all the action happened. Grandma Alma, George had the ... front road seats; so, did she).

Walking into the middle room, Grandma Alma ... George ... stopped cussing. They smiled at her, began asking how school was. She began to cry, ran to Grandma Alma's chair. She fell to her knees, put her head on Grandma Alma's lap.

Grandma Alma's good hand began to pat, rub her head. The little girl told her how mean everyone was to her. Grandma Alma talked softly to her ... George walked out of the room. She almost fell asleep ... Grandma Alma calmed her down.

That evening, she didn't try to kill herself ... run away. That came at a later time. That evening, everything was alright. She wouldn't be riding the school bus anymore ... she could begin walking to school.
............................................................................................................................................
 

Photos/story are both owned, written by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

This story is true ... to this day, I still see the mean boy who tormented me as a little girl ( yes, I was the little girl), made my life triple Hell.  I look straight at his eyes ... he can't look back at me.

I still 'hate' him ... he knows it. He can't look into my eyes. I've never seen his hateful girlfriend, since. He almost made me take my life as a child ... because he bullied me, unmercifully.  Oh, I still 'hate' her, too.

I truly try to be the nicest, best person in the world. I try to never hate ... hate is always beneath the surface. I was mistreated as a child too much to ever forget ... that doesn't mean I'm not a kind, good person. I am ...

I'm not perfect, but ... I am a good person. I can still 'raise Hell', though. It's ... in me. Hate, anger ... Hell. I know all as well, as I know ... grief, pain. It's a part of me ... just as much as being a good, kind person, is.

It's just not easy to ... bully ... me, now. The last person to find that out ... was someone from my childhood. We were adults ... I gave her 3 chances ... the third time ... I got her ass! It felt wonderful ... and I loved the expressions on everyone's faces ... when her ass hit the floor.
..............................................................................................................................................

People who bully others ... are cowards.  They should instantly have their asses kicked to Hell, and back.  That's my opinion ... there's no need to try to change it ... it's a 'Gloria Opinion'.

Seriously ... anyone who bullies another ... never knows what that person goes through each day ... just to live.  A little child is fragile ... they have no one to turn to ... when they are bullied from every direction.  Take someone under your wing ... don't bully.

 

 
 

Sunday, February 15, 2015

That Was Your World ... Back Then

That Was Your World ... Back Then
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... photo/story owned by me.  My world sure wasn't 'perfect' ... back then.  I lived where 'everything' ... happened ... in Hell.


 


Where I am from ... no one ever did such things. Why, we could leave our front doors open, unlocked at all times. No one ever broke in on anyone. We never had any crime.


People didn't use to be disrespectful to others when I was growing up. They knew if they did ... someone would put them in their place; maybe ... whip their ass. Today ... people are so mean ... no one cares to be nice to others. Watch our peers on the news ... now, they fight in public, curse each other. They set these examples for our children.


All this damn technology ... I hate a cellphone, computers, all that mess! When I was young, we didn't have such a complicated life. Children played outside ... today, children don't know what playing outside is ... and if ... they play outside ... someone would steal their ass! Predators lurking around every corner! Personally ... I 'pure love' ... technology. Give me a computer, tablet, cellphone ... anytime!


No privacy! Cameras everywhere! I wonder how many times I've scratched my ass ... and it be recorded? Picked my nose? Adjusted my underwear to get it out of my crack?


Think about it ... we all do it! Of course, we don't say we do ... we pretend to be so 'above it all'. You are human, aren't you? You scratch your ass, pick your nose ... and I guarantee you ... you have to pull your underwear out of your crack ... once in a while! Don't say you don't! I saw ... you!


Back then ... when life was perfect ... the pace much slower than today ... people were courteous, more caring. No one wanted to commit crime, shoot and rape someone. In my neighborhood ... we were just close-knitted.


I beg to differ ... and what I say next is strictly once again ... my 'Gloria Opinion' ... I won't argue with anyone. You have yours, I have mine ... so, be it.


I say 'back then' ... there wasn't an over-population of people ... everyone living close quarters. So, when something happened ... no one knew it right away. News didn't travel as fast, 'back then'...


Things 'did' happen, maybe not as often ... but, they did happen. Why, I remember when I was little ... about a little girl in the countryside asleep in her bed ... was taken out of her bed, away from the house, raped. The man came through her bedroom window screen. We used to sleep with our windows up ... doors wide open.


One night, my aunt woke up to see a big man standing on the porch in the doorway. Only an unlocked screen door stood between him, and all of us ... asleep on the quilt on the floor, in the living room. She screamed, scaring him away.


People disappeared ... murder happened. What did you say? It never happened where you lived your perfect life ... in your neighborhood, 'back then'?


I don't believe it ... you still think it's like that today? Come on .... times have changed. In today's time ... any, and everything happens, now. There are so many people ... they keep coming ... when they come like cattle ... predators come, also. They lurk around silently, watching for an opportunity to strike.


They will take your little children ... beat up your parents ... rape, rob, murder them. They will never think about what they did ... they have no hearts. They prey on the weak. They have to do it ... they are animals ... they know nothing else.


Home invasions ... bust into someone's life, unexpectedly ... completely change the path of people ... families. Who in the f___ has the right to do that? But, sadly ... predators take it upon themselves to decide when they'll step into someone else's lives ... change it, forever.


Walk along your path ... without a care in the world. Trust always in everyone to not hurt, rob ... murder you. You will live in a fairy tale world ... I promise you, reality will wake you up ... or put you to sleep, permanently.


I'm not going to walk being afraid ... I would fight like hell to live. I am going to always take precaution ... not set myself up to be slaughtered. My motto is: avoid putting yourself in a compromising situation. Things do, will happen.


Of course ... they didn't ... back then. Especially ... not in your world.