Saturday, March 31, 2012




For some time I've been thinking about something unimportant, yet ... it is to only me. One of my stories 'Watch Out For The Widow-Seekers' was the subject of a conversation... and the person I was talking to... thought it was in reference to something 'in their life'. It has stayed on my mind even when I didn't have to think about it. I wanted to tell that person... but, you 'know' sometimes... when it doesn't matter what you say...

I remembered thinking ...'how in the world did you possibly think that, I didn't even have you on my mind when I wrote that story'? I was so surprised... I had no idea. I even laughed to myself, thinking I'll have to read my story again.

I commented the very same thing to that person... they gave a little 'evil laugh' like.... 'yeah, we know you meant me'. I didn't bother to elaborate any farther... if they are vain enough to think that and hope it is about them... maybe it'll reward them in their new relationships... give them attention they might need'. No, I didn't elaborate because it was a situation when 'someone knows' ...only what they want to know in their mind. Hoping it was about them? If so, how are they rewarded in their lives from thinking that... wanting someone else to think that...

Some people need to let others make their decisions for them, and if they appear weak... that person will 'want to take care of them, protect them'. It's happened before... people are good actors... sometimes the 'weak are the strongest'... once they get what they want.

Women are good at fooling men like this... men are good at fooling women..... you've seen it as well as I have... to get a man/woman. Once they get what they want..... 'their true colors come out'.

Haven't you been shocked as I have been in the past... to see people you knew, loved and respected... become people you don't know? They 'become themselves'... they were 'them' all along... we just chose not to 'see' it. We hoped, we prayed that they were good... especially when their lives touched 'our loved ones' lives'.

They were like that 'all along'... biding their time until things fell in place to benefit them... they appear so sweet, so innocent until they get the man, woman they are after, get their insurances and property into their names, then ...... 'boom'!

It's amazing to see a big woman, big man act so sweet and innocent... apologizing so sweetly about 'everything... to make one feel sorry for them, make you think what a good, sweet person they are... to turn into a monster screaming vile filth, wanting to fight, being dishonest... deceptive......... on down the road.

One thinks back to the day you always heard .... 'I sorry'..... (just 2 words.... 'I sorry')... in a soft, sweet voice. That was 'the honey used to catch the fly'..... the honey caught the fly ... and destroyed it in its thick, suffocating way as it slowly lost any sweetness it ever had. It became a vile, hateful thick liquid. When it finishes its job... it begins again as a 'sweet, golden honey' liquid ... again... and again.

I will say that I finally did go back to my story and re-read it... I do see how they could have come to that conclusion. When people do things in their life, me included.... it's easy for us to think things said about something that 'is close to what happens in our lives'.... is ... meant toward us, about us.

I can honestly say my story was completely about observations I'd always made through the years... it really happens all the time. In fact, we are friends with the men who have done this... they aren't ashamed of it. They will tell anyone that 'their woman takes care of them'.

Anyway... yes, I 'can see how' that person 'thought that story' was about them... I can see... 'yes, it really could be, that I've re-read it and think about it'... I can only say if it fits that person's life it's 'because they made the shoes 'fit them'... when they were never meant for them. They must have hoped it was. Don't be vain anymore... it wasn't about you. I can hold my ground and say it was ... if it was. It wasn't.

That darn song keeps playing in my mind... you know how one will become 'stuck' in one's mind and no matter.... it won't go away until finally you forget it. 'You Are So Vain If You Think This Song Is About You'.

Another thing about writing my life is that I'm going to write about 'my life'... I'm not going to satisfy others to please them. This is my life I'm recording... I'm not doing it to 'stroke other people' ... or keep them from getting angry at me. I don't have a son, a child any longer to 'carry on the story of me, his mother... no matter how unimportant/important we are... we don't want to be forgotten. Our lives did matter.... 'even if it doesn't matter to you'.

I'm holding my ground here in a 'good way'. I never intend to hurt others, or go out of my way to hurt others... 'but, if the shoe fits'... when you affected my life in a 'bad' way... you will recognize yourself.

I will write my stories the way I see and know them, have been affected by them. I have compassion even for people who have done the very worst to me in my whole life... strangely... I care 'even for their feelings'. That's the 'good in me'........ it's a wonder I haven't become a very 'bad' person, shaped and molded from all the things that has affected my life. As a young child I learned how to be 'bad'... by the best. I didn't 'use those tricks' even when life 'beat me up'.... I could have. I chose to fight in my own way... I have survived to this day.

I wish good things for the people I 'hate and despise' in my life, people whom I have an anger inside toward. I constantly work on that 'hate, anger' inside for what they've done to me, my loved ones... to forgive and to go forward. I'm not perfect at all... but, I truly am a good person. I choose to be that way. I could have chosen to be 'bad'... I didn't.

I don't like to hurt people any more than I have to... in my writing I never mean to hurt anyone. If you are one who has been 'bad' to me... why the experiences you created 'in my life'....... are the colors of my life, my life stories. This is 'why' I am 'me'... you helped to shape, mold me into the person I am today. You can be proud no matter how 'bad' you were to me in my younger life.... I didn't turn out to be a bad person. You may have hoped .... I would?

I have a suggestion to adults who mistreat little children... don't. They will grow up with you in their minds... always. They will never forget you, it will be uncomfortable looking into their eyes... they reflect the knowledge back to you of ... what you have done... directly into your eyes, your mind. It's hard to live with... isn't it?

Especially when you come to the realization that 'that child' has... forgiven you, that child treats you kindly in return for what you did to them when they were small, helpless and had no words for what you did. 'That child' meets you, smiles... goes on about their life never trying 'to hurt you back' for what you have done. I wonder... 'what goes on in your mind'?

Do you even have an idea of how I've struggled to stay good so, I can live with my own self? I've been on paths in my young life where I 'could have went on to be evil and ruthless'... I didn't choose those paths. I've suffered because I didn't, I chose to be a good person. I meant to be a good person... no matter what. It sure is hard....

'Good people' seem to 'suffer more'.... you would think 'only good things happen to good people'... it's not true. Good things happen alot for 'bad' people... they seem to have everything... they seem not to appreciate, be thankful to 'have everything'.

I'm a good person... I've lost most everything in my life that has meant the world to me... I loved and appreciated every one of them... I was thankful for them.

Life, people.... took them away from me. If I'd been a 'bad' person... I'd probably have all of them 'here today'. 'If'... I were a 'bad' person... there would be some very sorry people in this world... inside I smile sadly at this statement... it sounds like a child. Every since I was nine years old... 'my losses began'... they never stopped. I kept getting back up until.... my son died... I almost didn't, I almost quit.

Truthfully... Granny Gee feels anger sometimes over this. I'm just not perfect at all... I've tried to be in my life... I can't be. I still 'feel real feelings'... I can't seem to get past 'feeling'. I 'feel for everyone, everything'... I hurt for animals, people, strangers. My heart is big. I forgive people no one would ever think of forgiving. 'What is wrong with me'?

I could be bitter, mean, hate ... but, I fight being like that. I don't want it in my life. Sometimes though... it comes to the surface threatening to just... overwhelm me... I 'taste how bad it feels in my soul to hate, to be angry, bitter'.... I can't bear it, I can't bear that at all.

I couldn't be happy being like that... I would never see the sunshine on my path again, nor feel the breezes I treasure so much ...on my skin, or hear the 'happy sounds' of life again. I would be back in the 'dark' again. I can't go 'back there'... this last time... I almost didn't find my way back to 'life'. I almost didn't 'hear Skip calling me back'. I know how it 'feels to live ...death'.

I sit here, these are the words that come to my mind when I 'try to look back and 'see'.... in the past almost two years of my life.

'I know how it feels to live death'................................................................

I know how it feels to hate, feel that white anger, I know how it feels to feel the worst pain a mother can feel, I know how it is to... die... inside. I know how it feels 'to come back from all of that'... I have survived... once more.

So, to anyone who is hurt by anything I write.... it isn't any longer toward you personally... it's 'just a story of my life'. If you hurt me, you are truly forgiven... my life isn't 'about you any longer'. You gave me the experiences that made me 'Granny Gee/Gloria'... today. If you gave me 'good' experiences... feel proud. If you gave me 'bad' experiences... be proud... you helped me become more determined to be a ... good person.

I win.

If you feel bad.... I'm sorry you have to hurt inside... I know how it feels. I know how many things you've never known in your life... feels. I hope you never have to.

I know how it feels to live... death.




Friday, March 30, 2012




I am a free spirit, soul... I am 'myself'. If I change to what you want... I am no longer 'myself'. No longer 'Granny Gee'... no longer 'Gloria'.......

These words came to my mind as I was thinking about people whom I love, but, never see. I was thinking that they don't know me any better than I know them.

Where I think they are pushy, dominating... they really aren't. It's 'just their way'. Just as the more I'm 'pushed, dominated', the harder I fight to 'get away'. That's 'my way'.

I've learned through many years to 'just be myself'. As a young girl I 'would have thought I was loved' when someone wanted to push, dominate me. Through the years I learned 'I don't want to be loved like that'. I'd rather be lonely for the rest of my life than for someone to 'crush my soul'. I'm ..... going to be myself.

Mr. Skip and I are 'perfect' for each other. My hero, my best friend, my husband... I would never think about another man 'if he weren't here'. All these many years I've known true, real love... I don't know if it possible to know that 'twice' in one's life.

I walk into fast food restaurants in the mornings... I see many 'lonely souls', mostly women.... sitting, watching every person who comes in the door. Hoping, praying that they'll catch the attention of some man... somebody. Somebody to be their friend, lover... someone to care about them. Just someone.... it doesn't matter 'who'.

Teased up gray hair, 'blonde' hair..... lots of thick make-up to hide life's lines, lots of jewelry sending off signals to every man who walks through the door...telling him to 'watch out, watch out'... there are 'man-eaters, sharks... in here'. He averts his eyes as he walks to the counter to order, walks to the table where his buddies are. They all have watched what transpired as he walked in the door... they've all experienced it... every morning.

It's sad, humorous, embarassing ... to watch. The woman, women think they are clever about hiding what they want... they are transparent. I always watch because.... I've always been a people-watcher... not only that... I've always watched others.... so, as to not make the mistakes 'they make'.

Sometimes... this is just a thought.... maybe we should have signs to alert us when we walk 'in the waves of humanity'... there are 'sharks, maneaters, woman-eaters, people-eaters... be aware, proceed at your own risk'. We have signs for everything else.

I wonder if Granny Gee teased her hair up high, put on thick blue eyeshadow, red-red lipstick and a ton of jewelry, high-heel shoes and a mini-skirt, with low-cut blouse........ I wonder what would happen if she walked into a fast food restaurant?

First of all.... I would be the one to 'look away' from everyone, not wanting to be noticed. I would be afraid of the expressions I'd see. Expressions of surprise, pity, 'maybe some interest'... eyes full of laughter at the 'gall of that woman'! Guess what! I'm laughing and.... I haven't done it! I know that 'would be a mistake'!

Can you see it? Close your eyes ... see Granny Gee like this, see 'yourself'........ do we need to go any farther? It's just too much for my mind to bear!

No... ole Granny Gee wouldn't want to be a man-eater, shark. She'd prefer to be quiet, noticeable in a 'good way'... holding her head up high, sweet smile on her face. She wouldn't ever worry about 'attracting just any man'... she likes, loves herself too much. She'd wear her 'life lines' ..proudly. She knows she is lucky to have had all these 'extra' years.

When you've loved the best, and they loved you.... there's nothing else but... friends. For-real good, clean friends.... friendship that will last a 'lifetime'. Granny Gee would only want these kind of people in her life... she's old enough to know what matters in life... now.

No... I wouldn't want to sit there with 'that gleam in my eyes', my teeth showing in a smile, my tongue hanging out, my eyebrow cocked in a flirty way.... hands fluffing my teased up hair, challenging 'just any man to come get me'....................... I'm lonely. No... that's not Granny Gee's way. She likes herself... and always has something to do to.

Though... it'd be fun to 'play that joke'... but, not fun. :))) I wonder if the women I've spoken of.... I wonder if they quit 'trying so hard'... accept their age, be themselves... have confidence, quit signaling to 'just any old man'... I wonder if they would attract more 'real' friends... even the men they desire?

Alot of times when one goes after something 'too hard', they only succeed in pushing it back 'away' from them. I wonder if they 'relax in themselves, slow down, quit being desperate'... I'm wondering if what they desired... would 'come to them'... instead?

How would I know? I'm just an 'ordinary-extraordinary-unusual-everyday' person! I am Granny Gee/Gloria... I do things 'my way'. :))) :))) :)))

Sometimes.... I am mischievious, silly... I'll never be 'too old' to be any other that way! I'll write more later... I have to 'go fix my hair.... I wonder if I should use that blue.......... red......'



Thursday, March 29, 2012




Two young, very pretty teenage girls... walking down the street on the sidewalk in town. They were laughing, talking about boys, school, fun things to do. You know, the things young teenage girls talk about!

They noticed an old-timey car passing them... they knew the elderly man driving it. He lived beside one of the girls' aunt. They forgot him for the time-being. They were talking about something that had happened that past weekend.

Hey, Lela... there he goes again! The old-timey green car drove slowly past them again. It was a hunter green -colored car, the elderly man driving had on glasses. He was grinning at them with a 'dirty old-man smile'.

One of the girls, the one with a smile like sunshine... who was very mischievious ... decided 'if' he came back by... she was going to do something funny, so... she and her friend could laugh and talk about it for days to come.

She couldn't believe it! There he comes again! She told Lela to 'watch this'! She had on her navy blue hip-huggers with white polka dots... and a white blouse. She was very pretty... everyone said so! This was young Granny Gee! She was going to be 'mean' in a .... teenage way, she was fifteen.

She began exaggerating her walk, twisting her hips this way, that way. She was giggling as she did it... she looked back to see the old man grinning... as he drove slowly along...... oh my God!

She stopped abruptly... stood there in shock! Mr. Lippet had just ran into the light pole near the sidewalk! He was no longer smiling... his head had some blood on it. He looked angry! Why would he be angry, he shouldn't have come back three times to look at them!

She grabbed Lela's hand and pulled her along! Run, Lela, run! They ran until they could run no more. Did you see that?!!! Did you see him hit that pole? They both giggled until they had to sit on the stone wall that was close by. Strangely enough... neither girl thought about if the old man was hurt.

Young Granny Gee and Lela laughed about this in the weeks to come. When they saw Mr. Lippet later.... he turned his head. :))) They would walk on... giggling! Laughing, talking about boys, and fun things to do... they didn't have time to think about that 'dirty old man'. They just had time to talk about the things that young teenage girls do!




Ms Nancy and I agreed to meet for breakfast last night. We decided to meet at a local Hardee's this morning at 10:00 am... I would meet her there after I fed the cats.

As I neared Hardee's I saw her going inside the door. I smiled, thinking how nice it'd be to see her since it's been some time since we've seen each other.

I parked, went inside ... there she was at the counter. I walked up to her and I was going to order breakfast, too... the girl at the counter said 'your breakfast has been paid for'. Ms Nancy grinned, and I thanked her. That was a very special gesture, and I felt honored.

We sat down in a booth, we talked to each other and to some other people in Hardee's. I think she knows everyone who works there. One girl had a very pretty, unusual name. It began with the letter 'J'... I won't try to spell it as I might not spell it right. It's the first time I'd ever heard it.... you all know me... I love the unusual, and the colorful things in life. I liked that name.

My distant cousin came in, with his wife that I'd never met. I was introduced to her and liked her immediately. I could see she is a very friendly, outgoing lady. It sure was nice to meet her... it was so nice to see you, Harry.

Ms Nancy wanted to take photos of us all... she did... so did my cousin's wife. I have to say that when Ms Nancy sent me the photos (email) with me in them... I couldn't bear to look at them. I looked so bad... I haven't felt the best since experiencing overwhelming grief yesterday when I heard that song... it did something to my soul. My face, eyes reflected it... my eyes were so red from crying alot (though I didn't tell Ms Nancy... I don't just go around saying 'hey, I've been crying')... also, from the pollen in the air.

Ms Nancy, I was going to put the photos here in my story, but... I'll take a raincheck on doing that. Gracious, I couldn't believe how bad I looked! :)))

I sort of felt disoriented, out of sorts... but, I was determined to enjoy my visit with my special friend, my childhood friend. I did enjoy it very much.

We said our goodbyes, parted ways .... with big, old smiles. Next time I hope to just be like the sunshine, a golden happy smile and clear eyes. Ms Nancy, thank-you for breakfast, thank-you for being my special friend. I treasure you dearly. You are always there... it means the world to me.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012




I was driving down the highway this morning. I had just come from feeding the cats I feed each day. I was listening to the radio on station 100.7 ... Kitty Kenan show.

'Mama, I killed a man'..... the song had just came on, the man was singing these words. Instantly, it threw me back to 3 years ago when Tommy called me to say .... 'Mama, I just killed a man'... I began sobbing. It felt like yesterday... I could feel, remember the pain, shock, grief in my son's voice. I had just left 'here' and traveled back to a dark road in my memory.

He was speaking so low as if 'he was trying to speak from another world'. He was in another world... one that would affect the last year of his life, and would help to cause his death. Tommy could never cope with knowing he had killed a man, no matter .... if it wasn't his fault. Tommy was a kind, gentle, big guy... his mind couldn't bear what happened.

I remember feeling as if somehow 'I had done it, too'. This was when the man stepped out of his car, it was stopped in the center lane of 3 lanes of traffic, no breakdown lane........ on the Hernando De Soto Bridge. We never knew 'why' that man stepped out in front of Tommy's tractor trailer.

The bridge goes across the river from Tennessee into Arkansas. A bridge that Skip and I, also, knew well. We'd been across it so many times through the years. Alot of people have lost their lives on that bridge.

I felt such grief well up in my heart as I listened to that song... I remembered. I cried just as I did that day for my son. When I got home I felt so sad, and from crying... I felt weak, sleepy. I was also, cold... the weather has turned cooler again. I laid down on the bed and pulled my blankets up on me, went to sleep... crying softly inside. It just hurt so bad. I couldn't stand up with that pain, I didn't want to stay awake with that pain. I went to sleep 'to lose it, leave it there'...

I have just gotten up not long ago, wondering 'why' I don't feel the best. This is 'why'... I just remembered, I wanted to write about it.

No matter how much you think you 'have it all together', how you think you are coping so well with grief, how alright you feel you are going to be... 'this' happens. Something will unexpectedly reach into your heart, make you remember that pain... and you will feel it just as if it happened... again. You will sob just as I did. It really hurts so bad.

Not everyone has suffered grief yet in their lives. We have no way to escape it unless... we 'go first'. It's going to happen, it does no good to ask 'why'... there aren't any answers. I can tell you this... I have suffered grief so many times in a few short years in my life... it seems like I went most of my life never experiencing how it felt. It 'all began to happen at one time'... one by one, the very people 'I loved most' .... died. One by one..................

How can I describe grief? It's a 'trapped' feeling of panic of knowing deep inside the very person you love ... is forever gone. You can't imagine life without them, you cry your very heart out.... over and over, over again. No matter how much you cry, you hurt... they aren't going to come back. For me... it almost took my very life from me... I didn't think I could bear such pain... this was pain 'bigger than any I'd ever felt from anything in my life... I had enough pain in my life make this comparison.

For a moment... think of your child being gone forever. Stop now... because it hurts so much 'to just think such a horrible thing'. My very heart prays that you never experience this pain in your entire life. This was only 'for a moment' to imagine. Can you imagine ... if it was forever?

Again... I tell myself for the 'millionth' time... it's all going to be alright. I'm going to be alright and while I do, tears stream down my face... oh God, the pain squeezing my heart.. please stop. No matter that it hurts so bad, soon I will be alright again..... I am like the sunshine that comes out to brighten a cloudy day... I will shine again ...soon.


Tuesday, March 27, 2012




This morning as I was driving to go feed the cats that we love and care for since moving (they are feral cats), I was thinking how much I love them. My mother would be proud of me, proud that I had come to love them, and now... make sure they are fed and watered each day. If I don't, Skip does.

It's an 18 mile round trip each day. When I drive up the little mountain one of the cats who is grey and white... comes running to meet me... she'll run along until I get to their feeding station. The others will run out to eat. They really don't like to be touched, but, they will let me touch them sometimes while they eat. I stand there and watch them with such love in my heart. I always say a prayer for them.

My prayer is that whoever buys the property in the future will be happy to have cats who kill all the snakes up there... there are many pretty rocks up there... and lots of snakes! Also, if they see a mouse try to come toward the house... they kill it. They earn their keep.

We will make sure the people who buy it... knows. We couldn't move them here because... I don't feel they could make it here. I would worry about them .... the swamp is close by. I see other cats close by. I think they are safest where they are... that's all they know. Besides... I don't think it'd be easy to catch them... my instincts say 'let them be'. I will listen... and I'll keep going to feed them until someone comes along to 'carry the torch' for me.

These cats touch my heart in a strange way, I feel such a deep love for them, I want to protect them. There are 7-9 cats, one I know best named ... Abbey. She is the 'beginning' of the others. She has big green eyes, and yellow 'sunshine' all through her coat.

Abbey is precious to me, though I don't see her always. She is a true huntress. I used to watch her from above on our deck there... teach her babies how to hunt. I was so amazed at her. I could watch easily being 'above' them.

I love them with a love in my heart that really makes me feel pain... I always want what I love ... close by... so, I can protect them. I am sure you all know what I mean, and most likely you feel alot like I do.

Cats, dogs are like innocent children... I wish I could protect them all. I see people who don't appreciate their dogs or cats like they should... they need to let them go to homes where people will care for, and love them. They are 'what we make them' to be... our best friends, members of our family... it's okay if they are spoiled... that's love.

I miss every pet I've ever had in my adult life... I never was allowed to have pets as a child... it's a good thing ... someone would have mistreated it ... they did me.

I've had Border Collies,Doberman Pinschers, Bassett Hounds, English Bull dog, Rottweilers, and Bloodhound, and our one 'Mixed-Perfect' pup... they all meant the world to me. They lived long lives.

Now... we have Chadwick, our 'Mixed-Perfect' pup, and Kissy... our Rottweiler pup. We treasure them with our hearts.

Dogs are known to be 'man's best friend'......... my personal opinion is that I agree. They love one unconditionally... no questions asked. They'll lie there waiting until you pay attention to them. I was thinking what if we loved everyone ... like dogs love us? No one could get hated then... what do you think? We'd all lick each other to death... with such unconditional love in our hearts. Instead of fighting... we would just lay there until we were noticed... and do like our Kissy the Rottweiler does.... that's to 'Express Himself'!

When we tell him to 'express himself, he begins to go around in circles, he's so happy! Yes, I think we'd be better people if we all loved with our hearts like our dogs love us. I would just prefer not to be licked in the face by a .... person!

Monday, March 26, 2012




I was looking out the big windshield of the tractor-trailer I was driving. On both sides I could see 'forever' in the distance. I was in the desert, all was 'brown'. This was the desert I didn't like... imagine hundreds of miles of 'brown' sand. It will make you cry to not see colors of any kind. I did, I thought I couldn't take it anymore. The landscape was flat here... but, looking 'out', I could see the huge, 'brown dirt' mountains in the distance.

Here, driving along... it was easy to imagine the wagon trains you see in the western movies... the movies are filmed in the deserts of California. You wouldn't believe the different landscapes of California... I have been amazed... over and over so many times... even when it was 'brown'.

I was on Interstate 10 West... just inside the state of California. I knew it would take hours to begin climbing mountains, mountains like you have never seen unless... you've been out west.

Driving in California is so different. I would always have the sensation of gravity 'pulling' the truck downhill so fast. One had be very alert driving on those mountains. On a tractor trailer... a driver couldn't afford to get the brakes hot. Skip taught me how to safely drive up and down those mountains... drive them... I did! Oh... when you 'looked down below'.... houses looked no bigger than a matchbox!

Another special thing about driving in these mountains... one could see where the rainbows disappeared to!

I was on top of a mountain, I looked to my left... amazingly, I saw a sight that I'd never seen in my entire life, nor in a photograph! I was seeing such bursts of colors 'everywhere'!

The colors came from hundreds of .... colorful hot air balloons! Yes, hundreds of hot air balloons! The mountain I was on was even with them floating in the sky!

Imagine the interstate highway on the highest mountain (close your eyes and 'see'!)... look to your left in your mind... see hundreds of big, colorful balloons (some with colored stripes, some with colorful characters on them!)... they are all floating in the air.... 'along side' of you as you are driving down the highway... on a big tractor trailer! Do you see it?!!! :))) Isn't it a wonderful feeling?

I imagine the people who waved back so happily at 'me'... were surprised to see a young, pretty Granny Gee driving that tractor trailer.... waving, smiling so big... back at them! I was breathless with such a 'special moment' in my life. How many people get to do this!

I could see there was a big valley beneath the balloons. I could see people in those balloons! I waved, I felt that happy feeling I experienced when I was sixteen years old.... when I 'chased' a beautiful hot air balloon in the sky.... through the tall, green grasses of the pasture on our land!

'I ran with the wind, waving.... smiling bright as the sunshine until.. the wind left me behind, a gray cloud drifted across my face'... I felt now, just as I did when that colorful balloon disappeared over the treeline.... I was leaving the colors behind to see more 'brown'.

I had let my eyes drink in that wonderful color... they were starved for color after coming through the 'brown' desert! I knew as I drove ahead, the colors in my mind would have to last me for many more miles. In fact, those colors have lasted in my mind, my memory for many years... so that now, I can tell you about them!

Colorful, hot air balloons floating over the valley.... floating evenly with me on the mountain! People waving back as I waved to them... smiling. I can 'see' it all... now!

Sunday, March 25, 2012




What is that! What is that wonderful thing in the sky? I had looked up to the sky when I thought I heard voices 'in the air'! I couldn't believe my eyes.

I lived in the mountains on 19 1/2 acres that we owned. I loved to walk up to the rock quarry that was on our land. There was a tall, gray granite wall going up from one side of the pond ...down at the bottom of that rock wall were pretty green trees that went half-way round the pond.

There were big rocks everywhere... gray rocks. Gray rocks with... lots of water moccasins sunning themselves on them! I'd had walked to the rock quarry lots of times to admire the beauty ... I didn't ever see those snakes until one day I was standing, looking around......... when I thought I saw something move on one of the rocks. Imagine my shock... my surprise!

I walked closer and felt chills go down my spine... there were short, fat, dark-colored snakes on the rocks. I could have sat there at anytime! I knew there were water moccasins there, but... in my young life I'd never seen them. I was a city girl... I didn't know where they would be... and really I never 'thought I'd see one'! I was so naive.

I thought I could hear voices, but... where were they coming from? I looked as I walked back from the rock quarry over our fenced-in pasture. The grass was so lush, green. I loved to see so much green grass! I loved looking at the trees on our land. I loved the countryside, it was exciting... I could explore, maybe find a pretty, unusual plant to bring back to the house. I loved the countryside until... it got dark at nights.

I walked to the fence, opened the gate, went through it to walk in the pasture. I heard the voices again... they sounded as if they were coming from the air! How can that be!

I looked up and my mind couldn't understand what I was seeing.... a big shape in the sky coming fast toward the ground! Excited voices talking high, people were in it!

As I watched I knew what I was seeing... it was a big, hot-air balloon and there were people in it! I began to run under it, waving to the people in the balloon... wishing it would land in our pasture so, that I could talk to them.

It was a magical sight to a sixteen year old, lonely girl who'd never been alone so much in the countryside. I ran and ran, following that balloon, waving.

I am sure they thought I was a crazy girl, but... I didn't care. Seeing the colors on that balloon, hearing people made me feel a 'wild' happiness in my heart. It lasted until... that beautiful balloon sailed out of sight behind the tree line. Strangely... all the excitement I felt... left me. I was the sunshine shining brightly ..until a dark cloud drifted in front of me.

For a short time I felt so happy, light-hearted, excited... magical! For a short time I had left the lonely world I existed in. Now... I was alone ...again. I was flying on the wind.. now, the wind had left me behind.

I walked to the power pole out in that field and sat down at the base of it...I was so lonely. I missed my mama, I missed being where there was 'life going on constantly'. I loved the mountains where I knew one day I'd live... but, I sure hated to be all alone.

Getting married too young didn't mean 'all of a sudden I was an adult'. I was really a young, scared child who'd never been left alone in her life. I had no choice but, to be stronger... fourteen years there made me stronger. I was afraid .... alot. Not only afraid alot... but, sad most of those years. I had to grow up there... everything I learned was the hard way.

Later... I found out that the hot air balloon had made a hard landing over the trees, and the river beyond them. Some of the people were injured in that landing. I wondered if they'd landed in all the beautiful grass in our pasture, would it had been a softer landing? Instead of being hurt, they could have been talking with me... telling me their stories of sailing off in a magical hot air balloon!

Maybe... they could have taken me with them on that magical, colorful balloon... and my life could have traveled another path! Just maybe I'd never been lonely anymore, traveled to a magical land and have been... happy ever after! Maybe.... :)))




Saturday, March 24, 2012




Today I was driving along on US Hwy. 1 North toward the Virginia state line. I kept noticing there was so much 'dust' in the air. I began to take notice that I was seeing this dust for miles, and miles.

I began to realize it was pollen... pollen blowing off the hundreds of pine trees in 'clouds' of green dust. Pollen that causes my eyes to burn, water, turn red. It causes me to have headaches, and just ... plain feel bad. Allergies....

It made me think of a 'mean' trick Skip played on me in a supermarket one time!

We were paying for our groceries while the two young guys were bagging them. One could tell these boys were 'party' boys, neither were very energetic... it seemed it was such an effort to put bread in the plastic bag.

They were mumbling to each other and both were giggling about something funny only to them. Then... I realized they were laughing at 'me'! Why in the world would they be doing that?

Skip knew... in fact, Mr. Skip 'caused it all'. He had whispered to them that my eyes were red, watery because... 'she has just smoked a dooby'! I didn't know he'd done that... and I'd been standing there, red eyes and all... just grinning back at the boys being friendly. They were laughing their a__ off at me!

Everything for that moment that I said, or did... made me look 'all the more'... like I'd smoked a dooby! I was telling them my eyes were red from all the pollen. I was self-conscious of it... when I see people like that... I don't think of allergies (well... now, sometimes I do! :))) I think they've been drinking, smoking pot, or taking drugs. I never want anyone to think that I did either!

It was too late... Skip had already advised them that I was 'high off that dooby cigarette'... everything incriminated me... it seemed like I just 'played into his hands. I convinced them what he said was true!

When I told them my eyes were burning, they laughed harder. I began to 'know' something was up. I told them the pollen was affecting my eyes, that I had allergies. I swear I heard one of those boys say while he was laughing ...'yeah, right'!

Skip pushed the shopping cart out of the supermarket as I walked beside him. I told him those boys must have thought I was on drugs, or... something.

Mr. Skip began... grinning as I looked up at him. I 'knew' at that moment that he'd 'done something'! I asked him what had he said to those two boys!

Mr. Skip said he had whispered to them that I had smoked a dooby... to look at my red eyes, and that crazy grin on my face!!!

Mr. Skip had 'done it again'! He always plays tricks on me! :))) One trick that stands out to me was in a very nice restaurant where I was so embarassed!

We were eating our soup with a spoon... when all of a sudden there was this terrible....... slurping noise! Oh no, I don't believe you did that, Skip!

I looked at him in shock when he calmly said to the people all around us....'I told you not do that in public anymore'! My mouth fell open as I looked at the people sitting at the tables around us. I couldn't believe he had just done that! They were laughing at me... they couldn't hear me say 'I did not do that'!

I have to watch Skip and be prepared 'just in case'..... he decides to play a trick on me! Just so... Skip can't do that again!





Crystal, clear water splashing... golden rays of sunshine reflecting through the drops...

Lush, green grass in a big lawn, a little white rabbit merrily hops...

He came to visit my colorful flowers of yellow, red, and blue...

I think as he moved in them... he ate some.. too.

I didn't want the deer and rabbits to eat my flowers of all kinds...

Flowers that grow beautifully, taking up alot of my time...

I find that I found joy in the rabbits and deer...

that they found such tasty, wonderful eat... here!

:))) Yes, Granny Gee thought this, wrote it for you to read...

Ha, ha... I hope it entertains you with my silly thoughts sometimes... indeed! :)))

Friday, March 23, 2012




Does anyone remember as a child spending the night at relatives' homes... sleeping on a 'pallet'? You know covers laid on the floor with pillows... more covers to go over you? I remember as a little girl, I loved to sleep on the floor. I loved sleeping on the floor as an adult, until...

Until I had all these surgeries. Gracious... I would feel such pain now, if I slept on the floor. :))) It really would hurt my body..... alot!

I used to enjoy sitting on the floor 'Indian-style' to draw with my colored markers, pencils in their special containers 'sitting all around me'... lots of 'happy colors'! Now... it would really hurt my body to 'get up'. :)))

Do you remember how our grandparents would have a 'big' bowl of cereal at nighttime, watching tv? George and Grandma Alma would have canned peaches in their cereal.... Cornflakes!

Grandma Alma and George would watch ... Rawhide, Gunsmoke, Ed Sullivan, Lawrence Welk Show, Mr. Ed, Bewitched... I Love Lucy!

I remember George putting the percolator coffeepot on the stove to make fresh coffee. I remember their coffee was very strong! They would tell me when I would ask them for some... 'it'll make you ugly, if you drink coffee as a child'!

Grandma Alma would tell me we would make cinnamon rolls, or make taffy. She would pull herself up on her walker, walk slowly dragging her leg, with one arm 'hanging'... to come into the kitchen to stand at the table. She had a big pan to mix things in... she made biscuits sometimes, with her good hand after washing it.

My Grandma Alma would make watermelon preserves... grape jelly. She'd stand there with her walker helping to support her at the table. Whenever Grandma Alma could cook... it was wonderful! She wasn't able to very often.

My Grandma Alma was the best cook whenever she could go into the kitchen. She was paralyzed from a stroke, she had worked hard all her life. She'd come home and worked in her flowers in the hot sun. How my Grandma Alma must have suffered in silence at how cruel life was to her... it's strange but, I never remembered her complaining.

I never heard George complain ... life was cruel to him, also. He went blind when he was an adult. Poor Grandma Alma and George... the best people in the world ... with the worst life in the world. It doesn't do any good to 'question why'? Life happens.

No matter which of Grandma Alma's daughters would come home to live for a while, with their own children... they were always welcomed at Grandma Alma and George's. Their house wasn't the biggest, and friction would happen ... often.

There was never a 'dull moment' at their house. People either loved too much... or were to the extreme opposite... hating and fighting 'too much'. I can 'see' in my mind George's expression... how he must have felt inside when he couldn't 'see' what was going on... sometimes, he would get hit! It would hurt my heart as a child to see his look of pain, his blind eyes with tears in them. As bad as it sounds, I saw that when I was a child there.

George loved all the little children, he was like a mother hen. He would worry about each and every one of the grandchildren... he was the only grandfather most of us ever knew. He was my Grandma Alma's second husband... we never knew the difference... never. George was 'our George'.

Sometimes... such as at this moment... I find that I can't write as freely about living there as a child. I'll have to wait until another time. For some reason... I could cry right now ... thinking about them. I loved them with my heart... we all loved them with our hearts.

I never heard anyone of the family ever say anything 'bad' about them. For now, I'll have to stop writing about them, it's been many years since they've been gone... for some reason I'm feeling pain thinking about them. Normally... I could write about them, their life, my life ....

I know it seems so much has been sad in my life... that's true. So much was good-bad, too. There have been some really nice things that have and do ... happen in my life. I treasure those things in my mind, they send off sparks of colors when I think about them.

I remember just before my Grandmother Lola died, how impressed she'd been when I began writing letters to her often, I'd make the envelopes special by drawing on the outside of them, and make the 'stationery'.

She loved my work... I remember feeling 'proud' that my Grandmother Lola loved my artwork. I'd never made her letters so special in the years prior to that... did I know she was going to die? I think I did, my Grandmother Lola was 100 years old. She was 'still herself'.

I just realized I was sitting here with my head held down, tears in my eyes ... tonight it's hard to write about them. I wonder if they all knew how much I loved them? How I wish I could see them again.

I wonder 'why' I began writing about them as I sat here thinking about what I'd write about? I know that I don't ever want to forget about them... they each played a big part in my life when I was little. They fed me, let me live in their homes, loved me... I know, I remember seeing tears in their eyes... for me.

Thank-you Grandma Alma, George, Grandmother Lola for caring for me when you didn't have to... Lord only knows where I'd been 'thrown to'... if it weren't for you.

I have been feeling alot of sadness... I let myself 'feel' that way... but, only for a little while. I don't think I will write anymore about them tonight... I will at a later time... when I can. I am amazed that this has happened to me... 'I can't go back into my memories tonight... it's too painful'. I might begin crying, I don't want to do that... I won't dwell here ... for now.

Goodnight everyone. Though I feel sad tonight... I know everything is going to be alright. All of this just comes from loving so much ... memories, I wish they didn't hurt so much.




Thursday, March 22, 2012




Sometimes we see other people (it's always easier to see other people ... than to see, look at ourselves)... who are scarred from people in their young lives. I know I'm scarred by 'alot of people' in my life... but, thankfully... I'm old enough now to have forgiven long ago, and not dwell on them. I am very strong now... from all that happened in my life... I can 'hold my ground' now.

I even still love people who hurt me mentally, physically as a little innocent child... most have died now... there may still be 'a few' left. I wonder 'if they ever thought about what they did to me when I had no choice in the matter... when they took liberties with my mind, my body.... as a little, precious child'?

I wonder if 'before' all the ones who have died ... ever gave 'me'.. thought, and in their minds if they felt sorry, ashamed of what they did. I wonder if it was hard going through the years knowing, seeing me from time to time as I grew up... I wonder what they really thought. Could they have felt bad... at all?

I've felt bad for even things I have done in my life to stop someone from walking on me, for standing up to them, or to protect someone else... using words from my mouth, prepared to use my body physically to 'hold my ground'. I had the right to do that... but, I always felt bad because 'I had to hurt someone's feelings, I cared... though they didn't care about mine'. So... I wonder if 'anyone who ever hurt me intentionally... ever cared'?

Also, the 'other scars' from things done to me, I have forgiven and 'let go of'. I still 'remember'....... 'now', they are stories for me to write about. Do you think 'that's why'... those things happened to begin with? For a reason? To a little innocent child?

I don't think little children do things to 'make these things happen to them'... do you? I think these things happen to little, innocent children because... grown-ups do things in secret, in their minds they think 'this kid won't remember I did this to them... this child is too afraid of me to tell on me... I want to do this ... to 'this' kid'.

So... what makes them single out a particular child? I think they single out children who 'aren't protected, cared about' by other grownups. Maybe because they 'know no one would believe 'that' child... especially when the one 'inflicting the 'bad' thing on that child ... is 'someone, somebody', a professional whom everyone loves and ... respects. Yes... respects.

I smile as I think about that word... 'respects'. Alot of people who think others are 'somebody'... think they are 'perfect and can do no wrong... why their word is law, they are God'... they wouldn't do such things! The little child in me 'knows'... 'yes, they do'. It's sad, but... true.

I think too... that they 'know who to single out'... like when I was very little... I didn't know I could tell, I didn't have the vocabulary to describe pain, abuse, when I could tell... when alittle older... I didn't because I thought that was 'just my life'... I didn't talk about it. I just got 'stronger' as the years went by... it took alot of years.

You would believe 'I'm so strong now... that nothing could hurt me ever again'........... it's not true. I hurt easily... you who know me know that when my son, Tommy, died... 'it hurt me to almost the... end'... I almost didn't make it through that. Where was all my 'learned strength'? It abandoned me 'then'... it was like I was 'never strong' to begin with.

When I had to fight for my life the 3 years when diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma... I had to 'find my strength'... I had forgotten that I 'was so strong'... I didn't remember it. Find that strength, I did... I meant to live, I wanted to live, I fought to live. This was the worst thing that ever happened to me, I almost died............. until the evening I was told by a stranger on my son's cellphone.... 'ma 'am, I've got a man here, collapsed on the sand... he's not breathing'.

I 'died inside' for almost 2 years... I didn't remember I was so strong... I'd forgotten... again. Where did that strength go? I almost didn't fight this time to live... I almost didn't have the desire... to live. I wanted to 'stay in the darkness... this time'.

Skip, my hero... my precious husband... his voice that I know and love so well, somehow made it through that darkness to 'me'. I was 'lost', unthinking, uncaring anymore... his voice 'kept reaching me'... I could hear him. As time went by... little by little... I began to 'follow his voice' out of that darkness... I began to see a little light on my path... I followed it 'forever'. The sun began shining little by little brightening my path until now... I do see the sunshine, I do want to live! I'm strong... once again. 'Now'... I'm very strong again.

I firmly believe everything happens for a reason to us, our bodies, our minds....... we have to 'keep going forward', learn to cope with these things no matter what... we didn't choose them to happen.

They happened... we are the ones who have to make that decision 'to get up and dust our pants off, hold our ground... once again'. We have to... no matter that we are bruised, bleeding, broken............ get up! Get up... don't stay down! Get up!

There are many 'bad' things in life that happen... we can't avoid them. I've really tried in my life... they found 'me'. I'm going to try to always keep 'going forward'... no matter what. Even when 'I've forgotten my strength'... I'm going to find it ... again.

I love life, the sun shines on my path now... warming my heart, my mind, my body, my soul... I don't want to go back into that darkness ever again. I treasure my life... again.

If I should forget my strength again... yes, I will look so hard for it... I will dust my pants off and get right back up, no matter the pain in my mind, my body, my soul.

If you ever see me and 'I'm lost'... please give me directions to get to the path I'm seeking... the path with sunshine lighting my way with hope, desire to live life to the fullest. I made it 'this far'... I can't stop now even... if I forget I am 'so strong'. I have to ...find my strength.




Jaw pain... if moving the jaw increases the pain.... jaw pain in the morning... pain by exertion, pain in chest or left arm, shortness of breath... could be a heart attack.

I was just watching Dr. Oz. How interesting his show is... you can learn by watching... visual. He always has models to show his audience how our 'insides' work.

I was just awed by watching how our gall bladder works, how a gall stone can block the entrance to the stomach and intestines! They poured a green liquid into a elongated clear 'tube' and it went through the entrance to the stomach, intestines... Dr. Oz dropped little round 'stones' in the liquid symbolizing gall stones... they flowed along with the liquid into the entrance until.... a 'gall stone' was too big... it couldn't go through.

The big 'gall stone' completely blocked the entrance to the stomach, intestines... causing the green bile to back up in the gall bladder... then, he demostrated how the gall bladder begins to 'squeeze' to help free the 'gall stone' to make it go through the entrance... this causes the really bad pain one gets....

If the gallstone doesn't get freed to flow through the entrance... it causes a blockage! This is what can cause the gall bladder to rupture, causing serious consequences!

I was so amazed to watch the process on Dr. Oz, it made an impression on me. One that will always make me take more seriously when someone is suffering in this way. Skip had this medical problem, when he had his colon cancer surgery... they removed his. He used to suffer badly in the past.

I was very interested in the 'jaw pain'... as I have a history of congested heart failure. I will pay close attention whenever I have 'jaw pain'. Dr. Oz said knowing this could help to save a woman's life.

I didn't ever think about this before as much as when I watched and listened to him 'show and explain' it... I was so fascinated. School teachers could do so much with students using his method to teach, educate others ... actually 'seeing' the lesson makes such an impression. I thought about this the whole evening after watching that.

I wanted to share this with my readers. I love to learn new and amazing things. This seems 'so simple yet so life-saving'... that everyone can keep in mind... who knows?... maybe there's a reason I wrote about this. I always believe there's a reason for everything that happens... it's a part of life's lessons.

I hope I explained it as well as he did... sometimes it takes the right person 'saying it in the right way'... to make us learn something even if we 'think' we know. We can 'hear the right person'... I heard this... and I was awed! Amazed!




Wednesday, March 21, 2012




Some years ago...Skip and I were staying in the campground in Edinburgh, Virginia. We had parked our travel trailer in the ideal spot... by the creek that ran through the campground. It was so pretty there ... big trees, rocks, pretty bathhouse.

Our travel trailer was 28 feet long, we had plenty of room. We had it set up nicely... we 'were roughing it'... though, we really weren't. It was plush, and it was comfortable. We loved staying at this campground. We knew everyone there, almost.

One day Skip said we'd go to a Rainbow Trout Farm to fish. I was excited! Let's go fishing, Boy! I called Skip... 'Boy', and have all these years. He has called me 'Monst', and 'Baby Girl' through the years. Our affectionate nicknames for one another. I'm an 'ole Baby Girl'! :))) Skip's an 'ole Boy', now!

I was so excited to be going fishing... Skip said I wouldn't believe 'how big' those rainbow trout fish were. We got to the fish farm and I couldn't believe how wonderful fishing was going to be 'here'! There were all kinds of cement ponds!

I was looking to see where I wanted to fish... there were fish 'everywhere'... great big trout fish! I was so excited that I was holding my breath. I knew I could catch alot of these fish! I was already thinking about having them cleaned, put on pieces of tinfoil, with a pat of butter, slice of lemon on each! My mouth was watering. We were going to cook out on the grill!

I stood there excitedly catching as many fish as I could. Skip was over at another cement pond catching fish. When we got ready to go, I saw that I had caught the most fish. I 'wondered why'... Skip didn't catch alot of those trout fish.

Skip told me to bring my fish over to a table where a man stood. The man was going to weigh my fish! We were going to have to pay so much per pound! Oh my goodness, I thought! I had alot of 'big' fish!

When the man weighed our fish... we owed him close to a hundred dollars! Skip paid him, we left. I told Skip I didn't know we had to pay for the fish, I'd never been where one had to pay for the fish.

We got back to the campground, I helped Skip clean the fish. We put part of them in the freezer in the refrigerator. We put each fish into a piece of tinfoil... with pats of butter, lemon slices. The grill was ready for them.

Some of our friends who also, stayed at the campground, and the owner came. We all enjoyed the trout... I loved when I got to open the tinfoil packet. The trout was steaming, my mouth was watering. I noticed everyone 'dug in'! I didn't waste time either. Oh! We ate corn on the cob, roasted!

Those were the biggest... best fish I've ever eaten... that I caught. Not only that... the most expensive! Skip never got upset at me! :)))


Tuesday, March 20, 2012




On Monday morning I walked into the doctor's office for my appointment. I was in my 10th month, waiting for my baby to be born. My baby was due in the middle of October, now... it was November 17th.

The doctor induced my labor so, I could have my baby. Nothing happened on Tuesday. On Wednesday I began hurting in my back, I couldn't be still. I was in a room with older women who were getting ready to deliver their babies. I was the youngest in there.

Some of the women were crying from the pain. I bit my lip, and held my pain 'inside'. When I finally began crying, a nurse walked over to me and told me to be quiet. I tried to stay quiet. This was my first child, and I 'knew'.... my last child. I couldn't go through this again. I still didn't know what to expect... how do you have a baby?

They made me walk in the hall that evening, that night still... no baby. I was sitting 'Indian-fashion' on my bed, rocking my body back and forwards trying not to cry aloud. I kept looking at the older women in there.... no one told them not to cry or to be quiet. The pain was overwhelming, I tried to stay so quiet, but.. I moaned. I was afraid to make a noise... the nurse had told me to be quiet.

My mother and her husband had come up during the day. She walked with me ...up the hall, down the hall, up the hall................................... My mother told me that she was also, expecting twins. My mother wasn't much older than I... fourteen years older. Later, I found out she had a miscarriage.

I wished my mother was with me, they had left to drive 3 hours to get back home. They couldn't stay. I had two little brothers they had to get back to. No one was with me... I had to travel on this path alone.

That night late I was in agony sitting there on that bed... sitting crosslegged, rocking back and forwards. I was biting my hand trying hard not to cry aloud. That nurse had told me to be quiet. I felt my bed move! It was such a strange sensation .... like being in a dream ... such pain like I'd never known in my young life, and a feeling of moving like on the ocean! My bed felt like it dipped down and rolled. I thought it was me hurting so badly. This was November 19th, Wednesday night.

The next morning I was still in labor, I was taken down to see if my baby had to be 'taken'... I had no idea what they meant. Later I found out that they were deciding whether to take my baby because I wasn't having it like I should. They made me have him.

I was taken to the delivery room and placed on a bed ... they put each of my legs in stirrups... they strapped each ankle. I instantly began fighting .... the pain I was in combined with being trapped there was the most awful I'd ever experienced. A nurse brought me a washcloth with ice chips on it, that was the last I remembered.

Tommy was born on November 20, 1969 at 11:28 am. His little face was bruised all over. It was a hard labor, I had 40 stitches... I was made to have my baby. I didn't know the difference at that time... I didn't know anything about having babies. I was happy though... I wanted my baby!

Tommy weighed 8 lbs. 4 1/2 oz, and he was 21 in. long! I was small and he was a big, healthy baby. I couldn't hold him at first, I was in agony from the pain I was still experiencing. I couldn't wait to hold him in my arms. My son, my very own baby ...born on November 20, 1969. He had alot of hair, strawberry blonde hair. His little hand would hold onto my finger. I felt such fierce love for ... my child.

This was the beginning of life for Tommy. I remember when he was a month old, I was looking down at him thinking how much I loved him. He was lying there sleeping... I began crying and thinking 'what have I done'....... 'what have I done'?

I was thinking I had brought this precious little baby into this world to know pain, grief like I had felt already in my young life. I was so sorry I'd had Tommy... I knew how pain felt and I couldn't bear the thought of Tommy getting hurt physically, or emotionally as he began to grow up. What have I done? I cried my heart out while standing there.

As Tommy began to grow ... he began bumping his head, fall down as a small child will do as they learn to walk, to play... it would hurt my heart so much. I couldn't bear for Tommy to feel pain... I knew pain too well. I was very protective of him.

I also, couldn't bear for him to be dirty. He was the cleanest baby and little boy ever. His grandfather told me to let him get dirty sometimes, that all little boys should be able to play and get ... dirty. I would change his clothes whenever he did.

Life went on, Tommy became a toddler... a precious little boy who was so beautiful with his strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. He learned to walk at 11 months old. I remember being so awed when he took his first steps in front of me! I was talking to a woman when he walked in front of me... it was so natural, that I almost didn't notice it! I was so awed at seeing my baby take his first steps! I began laughing, and I hugged him so tightly.

Tommy got his first haircut at the 'big boy' barber shop... he was one year old. I kept his strawberry blonde locks of hair from that haircut. He was a very handsome little boy with his 'big boy' haircut!

I found out later that on the night prior to Tommy's birth... when I thought the pain was making me feel like my bed was moving... there was an earthquake that night! Alot of babies were also, born that night ... I remember being told that the moon was full, also. I never saw it, I was in labor. I'd been in labor since Monday, November 17th when I was induced.

I never thought that my son would 'go before' me. It doesn't seem right for parents to outlive their children. I was crying when he was born, I never wanted him to feel any pain... Tommy went through so much in his life, he felt alot of pain both physically, mentally, emotionally. My precious son, how I've cried for you throughout your young life. I loved you with my very heart, my very being.... I couldn't protect you all through the years.

I 'saw' through all the young years of Tommy's life the pain he suffered....... the grief he was suffering over the suicide of the man who stepped out in front of his big truck before he died..... I 'saw why' I had stood there when he was a little baby and cried, wishing I'd never brought a little innocent, precious baby of mine into this world.

I never had another child, I had to wait 9 years before I could convince the doctor that I never wanted to have another child before getting the surgery to make sure I would never have another child. Now...... I'm glad I never had another child... though that means ... loneliness in 'old age'.

I'm sorry, Tommy, you experienced the grief you did in your life... I'll never forget looking at you as a little baby, crying... 'knowing' there wasn't any way I could always protect you. We all have to walk 'our own paths'... no matter that we wish to 'carry someone else' to keep them from feeling the pain... of life.

Tommy's gone, he can't hurt anymore, my baby, my son. He died May 29, 2010 on a beautiful Saturday evening.... running and playing with his little precious 3 year old son, Taban. The sun was shining, the waves were playing with his and Taban's feet as they ran on the sand at the ocean (Myrtle Beach).

Laughing, squealing with joy... feeling so light and free, wind blowing from the waves onto their faces.............I know my son was at his happiest for those 'last' moments.... the grief in his mind 'forgotten' ... his mind filled with such joy and happiness watching Taban... his little son he was so proud of.

Tommy was doing exactly what he was looking forward to doing when he stepped into heaven from that beach..... he was sharing his first time at the beach with his son. I know, because he told me the evening before... he wanted to do this. His smile was beautiful as he told me how he looked forward. I saw his sunshine smile in his blue-green eyes as he stood looking down at me. My tall, handsome, precious son... how proud I was of you, how I loved you.

I really miss my son with my heart. Tommy, I saw your little precious son today... today is his birthday (March 16, 2012). He is 5 years old... you never knew you wouldn't be here for him. I gave him 2 dragonflies I made in your memory..... I gave him a gold-wire heart with a tiny dragonfly on it, with different pendants that have little settings that sparkle on it.... I used my imagination when I made that gold-wired heart. At the top of it , I made your name 'Tommy' by bending and shaping the gold wire. He can hang it in his room.

I looked into Taban's little face, his blue eyes.... watching him smile that 'Tommy' smile .... I saw that mischievious expression like yours, son. What a precious child he is... so high-energy, so friendly, talkative.

He had on his little green sparkling St. Patrick's green hat. I hugged him .... Skip and Angie began to laugh.... on the side that I hugged him, my face was shining with glitter! I told Taban I wanted to hug him again so, I'd have glitter on the other side.

I hugged him and deliberately got glitter on the opposite cheek.... Granny Gee was shining .... glowing. Shining, reflecting happiness seeing her grandson.

Happy Birthday, Taban. I love you very much.




I walked quietly by the doorway quickly peeping inside to ... just see! How exciting it was to get a glimpse of something so special... it stayed in my mind ... forever! How I wished with my heart to be invited in, asked to join my father in whatever project he was working on.

My father was a professional sign painter for Pepsi. He did beautiful work on his job, and for other businesses. He also, was a boilermaker. He travelled for years working.

I would walk quietly away with what I saw ....hugged tightly in my mind. When I got to where I could think about what I saw... I let my eyes see what I'd held to in my mind. I closed my eyes to 'see'... a wonderful light shining over the art table with the 'table' tilted up to make an easel. It had wonderful, blank white paper on it.

I could see the ruler laying close by, and the colors.... oh, the happy sign paint colors! I saw his brushes, his palette. Oh, how I wanted to go into my father's paint shop, and draw and paint with him. He never invited me, but, he invited my youngest sister, Peggy Lee, to come draw and learn to paint. She had talent, but, was never interested in going in there. But... I was... please invite me to come inside! He ...never did.

Many, many years later before my father died... we went to visit him. We walked to his paintshop... it was now in shambles. It was cluttered, nothing kept in order. My father had cancer, the surgery had destroyed his face.

So, the shop of colors, the exciting jars, paintbrushes, rulers, all the wonderful art supplies stayed in my mind. I would look at it in my mind treasuring my memory of it. Sometimes, I would see my dad standing there painting with his back to me, as it was to me in my 'everyday'. He never knew I stood quietly there watching him draw while wishing I was asked to come in. He never did.

My father would cut out plywood shapes and paint them. He painted in the most vivid, beautiful colors. How my hands wanted to hold one of his paintbrushes to paint, one of his pencils to draw, to use that wonderful art table under the shining light like sunshine! I wanted to use some of the colors I saw there on that table! I could draw like him, it came naturally! How I wished he would take me under his wing and teach me the things he knew... he never did.

Monday, March 19, 2012




The only thing that could be added to make it all perfect... was the special sound of bamboo windchimes. Yes, I know I just told you about my special bamboo windchimes the other day... really, you'll see in just a moment how 'perfect' the sound would have been where I was at this morning.

I sat in a beautiful chair made of light brown soft leather... there were 8 of them... 4 lined up on one wall, 4 lined up on the other wall. Each chair appeared to be on a 'seashell', each had a foot spa. There were two elegant chandleliers, big with 'millions' of sparkling pendants hanging on them. Oh, how elegant, how special! At each chair there were many bottles of ... color! Lotions, oils and such!

Lacey.. silky curtains, beautiful hangings on the walls, there were individual tables with what appeared to be 'marble' tops, nice chairs were at each. What a beautiful place this was! All the staff were oriental people with smiles.

The sound of oriental music was playing, I was asked to go pick a color... colors! I went to the wall and there were rows of colors, I picked a mauve color and carried it to the chair I now sat at.

There was a control on the chair, the chair had massaging capabilites! I was massaged from the neck to my knees while sitting there. The oriental girl came to put wonderful smelling stuff in the water.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the swirling water around my feet, the massage from this wonderful chair, listening to the oriental music. I opened my eyes to see the other chairs sitting across from me... all on 'seashells'... I could imagine floating away on clear, blue waters to an island, I wished for the sound of my special bamboo chimes! That was all right... I could hear them in my mind!

The little oriental girl came back to do my pedicure. She also, used oils, lotion to massage my feet, legs when she finished. Then... she put the special color I'd chosen for my toenails... on. I was taken to another chair to sit for about 10 minutes with my toes underneath a special place at a table... the soft breeze blew on my toes. When she came back, she sprayed nail enamel on my toenails. My beautiful toenails!

I have had my nails done at other places... in no way did those shops compare with this one... Beverly Nails. Skip loved that I had such a nice experience there, and said there'd be more for me there. I won this experience at Beverly Nails... a $27 pedicure. It was wonderful! I'm looking forward to going back!

Oh... they do alot of wonderful, pampering things there... I love this place! I had even thought of taking them some bamboo windchimes... :))) That would make it all 'perfect'.

Granny Gee is happy today with her colorful toenails... each little toe sure feels happy, my legs feel happy, my body sure enjoyed that massage. I'm here ... home ... listening to my own special bamboo windchimes while I admire my toenails! :)))





Sometimes I wish I could go back to being a little girl and begin my life anew. Sitting out in the front yard on Elm Street where the sweetpeas and buttercups grew. I wish sometimes I could be drinking 'tea' out of my tea set, playing in the white sand. I wouldn't even mind my mouth being washed out with that Ivory soap.

Running through the hall around the corner and scraping my knee everytime to chase my little brother, Wm Ernest... or him to chase me. Oh yes, I would love to begin anew. Begin anew, with somehow the knowledge I have now of life, stored for the day I would need it.

I loved the soft pink of the sweetpeas, I would sit beside them looking at how pretty they were. I don't remember if I ever picked one, I may have to smell its fragrance. The yellow of the buttercups was like sunshine... the sunshine was shining down on them. I was a small child then, but... the sweetpeas and buttercups made an impression on me. Softness, pink... sunshine.

I remember sitting there looking across the street to the mill that was in operation then, sometimes hearing something like a horn that meant lots of people would come out of the building. The street I looked across was highway 56, also, called East Green Street.

I could look up at the sky and see, hear an airplane flying. I love the sound of an airplane flying to this day. It's a lazy, comforting, soothing sound just as hearing a lawn mower in the distance mowing grass, a dog bark in the distance, and children squeal, laugh as they play.

I looked across the street I lived on ... Elm Street, and there was a huge hill leading up to the railroad track. I loved this hill... sometimes, I would sneak across the street to climb that hill. I remember Cottontop coming by to stop and tell my mama that we were climbing that hill to the railroad track again, he told her that those children were going to get killed by a train.

I lived on that corner, played underneath that big, old oak tree... that was back in the days when life was good to a little girl. Occasionally the peacefulness was broken by my stepfather (whom I thought was my father)... he'd beat my mother. I would hear, see her crying... sometimes, she screamed. My beautiful mother.

I learned to ride a bicycle while living there. It had training wheels on it... I went over the handlebars one time... the force of the impact making me lose my breath lying there on the ground. The pain was something I learned I didn't want to feel again... I wouldn't as long as I was careful.

I grew big enough to walk to school ... walk up Elm Street by my friends' house... Rhonda and Connie. I'd walk to the end of Elm Street, turn left on Mason Street, walk on the sidewalk toward school which I could see nearby. I had to cross the railroad tracks... sometimes a train would be moving slowly... I would run under it to get across! Because just across the railroad tracks was 'town'... there was a special place I always went into as a little girl... a special place in my mind now... as I look 'back to see it'. Even being so little, how did I know?

How did I know to stop in front of that wooden door with the big glass in it? How did I know that was a very special, magical store behind that door? Beside it was Dr. Nowell's office (related to my little brother Wm Ernest). Dr. Nowell's mother ran the candy store. That big, old door would make a squeaking sound as it opened... just like Dr. Nowell's wooden door when we had to go there.

I opened that door and went inside..... there was a long counter with glass windows in it... where a child my height could stand there and see everything. It was magical, wonderful!

I could see wax lips, big and red...... little wax bottles with liquid inside them, candy cigarettes that looked real, chewing gum, candy bars, Mary Janes, squirrel nut candy, Cracker Jacks... all kinds of wonderful treats. I could see up on the shelves... toys in their wonderful, colorful boxes.... dolls, trucks... all the things little children would love to play with. The wooden floor glowed underneath my feet... oh, what a wonderful place this was.

This wasn't the happiest childhood, but, it's the only one I knew and it was the happiest 9 years of my young life... my life went to hell when I turned 9. I sit and try to think of the memories there on Elm Street. This is the one 'real... in my mind.... most normal' home I ever had as a child.

I remember how very clean, sparkling everything always was. The floors were so nice, the furniture pretty. My little brother, Wm Ernest... and I had our housekeeper who came each day to care for us. She made sure we were clean, dressed well, had 3 meals a day. She would iron, starch our clothes. What a wonderful well-runned house we lived in. She would take up time with us, talk to us and tell us stories. Josephine was her name. I loved her.

We learned about such a thing as the world was going to end... I remember being afraid... I didn't know 'what of'... how does the world end to a small child? I had no pictures in my mind. I would feel the fear, no matter. Truthfully....... my world did end and I was placed in pure... hell. Yes, this little girl went straight to hell.

I remember once sneaking into my mother's and 'father's bedroom. I was fascinated going in there. I can't remember 'why' I would go in there. Once I opened a bottom drawer in their dresser... there were little comic books, or so, I thought they were until..... I saw the comic characters Popeye and Olive, and Brutus doing.......... things. I would giggle. Yes, I did that!

I remember climbing up on the sewing machine cabinet I think it was... to somehow climb high onto the top of the ceiling of the bathroom... the wall didn't go up to the ceiling in their bedroom..... the 'ceiling' over the bathroom was used for storage.

How did I know to go up there? Did I see them go up there to put things? I climbed up sometimes to look at a shoebox.... it held happy colors.... capsules that had colors on them. Maybe I had seen them hold that box, and the colors caught my attention. You know to this day how I am about 'happy colors'.... I follow them, I'm distracted by them, I love them.

I remember I was sitting in the wooden swing on the front porch, I had on a diaper. I can't see who was outside with me. I remember the sunshine, the golden light, looking down to the wooden porch... looking behind me at that big building, which I came to know as Sterling Cotton Mill.

I remember our babysitter on the weekends, her name was Kay. She would come to care for us. Once she called both Wm Ernest and I to come to her, someone was breaking into our house, they were in the basement now, and were trying to get into the house where we were! I look back now, and I wonder 'why'?

Kay told us that she'd been watching 2 big men across the street behind a bush, near what used to be a billiards place (I think it was called Slick's or something like that).... that was opened then. Kay said come on! She grabbed us each by our little hands and fled with us out into the dark, we ran up Elm Street to the street nearby where she lived at. I loved Kay. I loved Dalton, her brother. They always had big, happy smiles for us. I don't ever remember a cross word from them... nor from Josephine.

I was just sitting here thinking about wanting to plant sweetpeas... sweetpeas in memory of when I was a little girl. To this day, I look at that little hill to see if I see sweetpeas, and buttercups... whenever I pass by that house. It's still a very pretty house, it has been changed alittle. The front porch isn't there now, they've made a room there. It looks nice. Everything else seems to be the same. This was the only 'real' home I had as a little girl..... then, I moved to hell.

Moved to hell.... there were beautiful flowers there... I helped to plant them for my Grandma Alma. I didn't ever see sweetpeas there. She had Cosmos, something called Rooster Tails, Zinnias, one of my favorites was Marigolds, many roses of different colors. She had mums. I sit here and think of what my Grandma Alma and George thought... surely they must have known they lived in hell... with their disabilities.. they were trapped. They couldn't 'grow up' to... get out of it.

At that time, I didn't know I could grow up to get out of it until.... my special Aunt Frankie told me. 'Faye, when you get grown up you don't have to live like this, you can choose how you want to live'.... my Aunt Frankie would tell me this in a soft whisper. If she said anything where someone would hear it.... they would have 'jumped on' her. Why?

Because my Aunt Frankie 'held herself up' to be somebody, she lived in a nice home that was sparkling clean, she tried not to live in 'hell'.... everyone was jealous of her. Sometimes, I could see one of her siblings 'pick a fight' with her. She would look at them, and turn and walk out the door and I wouldn't see her for a while... I saw those tears in her eyes whenever she walked past me. Frankie, I want to go with you! I want to be your little girl!

Grandma Alma loved her flowers, I helped to plant them for her. They gave her such pleasure when she looked out the window of the 'arena' .... where her sitting area was. She couldn't walk out there, George would help her to the front door to look out at flowers around the porch, along the sidewalk. I would cut flowers sometimes, to put in a vase for her. I would place the vase on her old dresser beside her recliner. Grandma's eyes would light up as if I'd done something special!

I see them in my mind... George patiently walking her as she held onto her walker, one leg dragging, one arm hanging down... leading her to the front screen door so, she could look out to her flowers. There was wisteria growing on the front porch, it was beautiful. She loved her wisteria. My Grandma Alma and George... I loved them with my very heart. They couldn't help that we lived in ...hell. I felt my heart 'squeeze' just now... I felt 'that pain'... missing them, feeling such love for them. I think I could cry, but... I will just hold it in. I have 'many cries' ...held inside my body from every year of my life.

I'm amazed looking back to Grandma Alma and George's home... I have always called it the 'portal of hell' ... the house, the door to the portal of hell. I'm amazed that such beautiful flowers, colors could thrive there. Those flowers were stunning in their beauty. I can't remember having a garden hose to water them... though I remember watering them with a bucket, and a cup to dip into the bucket of water. I don't think I ever see anyone having as many flowers as she did.... excepting for Hjordis in Sweden. Lena's mother loves beautiful flowers, Lena loved flowers. Hakan, her husband grew orchids in Sweden.

These are the memories conjured up by thinking about the sweetpeas and buttercups... I can hear an airplane in the sky somewhere ... the sound is comforting, soothing, calming. It's a slow droning sound... the sky is blue, the sunshine is smiling, I see big, billowing puffs of white clouds moving in the sky. All I need to hear now..... is a lawn mower in the distance, dog barking in the distance, and a child squealing with joy. These sounds evoke the memories I just wrote about. Sweetpeas and buttercups, these sounds.... a special combination. Sweetpeas.... and buttercups there on... Elm Street.... there... on that little hill looking across at Sterling Cotton Mill.







Sunday, March 18, 2012




Skip grew up close to his Grandma Lois. She was his father's mother. Grandma Lois was Director of Nursing at the hospital where they lived. Skip loved going to the hospital as a young guy to talk to the nurses who worked under her.

The nurses would be talking and laughing with Skip ... he was a handsome young man! Grandma Lois would come walking up the hall... they'd scatter going back to work. She was very stern with them, and didn't like them to be 'playing' on the job. She was of the 'old school'. She was very professional.

She was a very serious-minded person, though she did have a sense of humor. She could play music... by ear. She didn't know how to read music, but, she could play the old-timey piano she had, singing for family and friends who came to visit her. Grandma Lois could play the guitar, mandolin, and banjo. She loved to sing songs such as 'Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey'.

Grandma Lois loved to eavesdrop ... she was on a partyline of six. Skip would come into the door talking and she'd hush him up quickly! She loved to eavesdrop on Lizzie, one of her neighbors. She'd talk about Lizzie after going to church ...she'd tell Skip all about what Lizzie wore. One of the times was that Lizzie wore a tacky hat that day. Skip asked her did it have more feathers than hers?

One day Skip went to his Grandma Lois to tell her about a new car he wanted. He needed someone to sign the bank note for him before he could order it. She asked him what kind of car was he wanting.

Skip described the car to her, it was a 1966 Chevelle Super Sport, 396 cubic inch engine, 375 glorious horsepower, with enough power ....'to pull the doors off hell'! (Skip didn't tell Grandma Lois about 'all that glorious horsepower'). It was a beautiful copper-brown color. The seats were of soft, black leather... bucket seats. It had a 4-speed transmission. It was truly a beautiful... fast machine!

Grandma Lois called up Jimmy, the bank rep. She told him about the car, that she'd sign the bank note when the car got there... they'd order it and it'd take 3-4 weeks to be at the car lot. He told her that she needed to come up there to sign the papers now... Grandma Lois said to him 'Jimmy, I'll sign those papers when the car gets here, don't hand me a bunch of junk now, I changed your diapers when you were a baby!'

The car finally came.... Grandma Lois and Skip went to pick it up. There it sat on the car lot... pretty as a picture! Skip felt excitement as he stood there looking in awe at it!

He and his Grandma Lois went inside the office to join the salesman and bank rep (Jimmy). She signed the papers, they all shook hands. It was time to leave in Skip's new car!

They got into the car, Skip drove it gingerly as possible to go through the gears. Grandma Lois was very relaxed. The motor sounded like a song bird. They drove... the trip home was 18 miles...

Grandma Lois asked Skip to stop at the local country store where Skip and his friends hung around. The locals played horseshoes there... there were always alot of men challenging each other to a game. When they drove up and stopped, alot of friends of Skip's was there.. they all looked at his new car. They loved it!

Skip's Grandma Lois wanted a can of snuff, she wanted Skip to buy it for her. She never let anyone know that she dipped snuff. Skip got out, went inside, bought the snuff and two bottles of soda. He came back out and got inside the car. He started the engine...

His friends began yelling for him to 'show them what that car could do!' No one had a car like that around there, they loved it. Skip yelled back that he couldn't ... his grandma was in the car.

Then.... Skip sat back in that seat ... the feeling came over him that was too strong to ignore! He wanted and felt he needed to 'unleash the power' in that Chevelle! He wanted to show his friends 'what that car could do!'

He backed out gently into the road...he let the car come to a stop. He put it into 1st gear.......... all of a sudden ...'all hell broke loose!'

He dropped that clutch, put the accelerator to the floor! His Grandma Lois was pegged to the back of the seat! Then..... he went for 2nd gear!

Grandma Lois lurched forward, was thrown back against that seat again! Skip went for 3rd gear... once again Grandma Lois went forward, and was pegged forcefully against the back of that seat!

Skip threw it into 4th gear, it happened again... Grandma Lois was thrown forward and again... she was pinned to her seat. Skip looked down, he was going 110 mph, they had gone less than a quarter mile down the road!

Grandma Lois had begun to holler ..'slow this damn deathtrap down and let me out!' Skip slowed down to 50 mph. Grandma Lois was furious! 'Why did you take off like that!'

Skip told Grandma Lois that the salesman had told him he needed to do that for several times... 'that was part of the breaking-in process'! Grandma Lois didn't say a word. Skip drove normally the rest of the way home.

Later, down at the country store Skip met up with his friends. They were excitedly talking about his new car. What a car! They had never seen a car run like that! One guy said 'it ran like a scalded jackrabbit!'

Grandma Lois did ride with Skip again, he never took her on such a ride again. Two months later ...Skip left for the Army. He left his Grandma Lois with the memory of 'the ride of her life!'