Monday, September 30, 2013

If You Anger Easily... You May Be Looking For An Excuse To Get Mad

If You Anger Easily... You May Be Looking For An Excuse To Get Mad

If You Anger Easily... You May Be Looking For Excuse To Get Mad
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Have you wondered 'why' someone became unusually angry at you... all 'over nothing'? Did you ever wonder 'why'? Did you ever think about it being because,
they have been 'building up anger' toward you, 'over time'?

This is something I've watched over time... known from someone telling me about someone else... I'm even guilty of doing it... it's not something I'm proud of. I should have talked about it to 'that person'... instead of waiting for the 'straw that broke the camel's back'.

When that happens, all 'hell breaks out'... in my case, I begin speaking very softly... while looking someone straight in the eyes. All those pent-up feelings come out, like a dam when it releases its water. Nothing is held back. I'm angrier than I would have been 'if only' I had talked about the 'other things', before what just happened to cause my outburst.

So, think about it... before 'holding all those feelings in'... maybe talking about them, even just a little could save an outburst, later. It doesn't feel good when that happens... I know I don't feel proud of myself if I ... wait to do that. So, if you anger easily... you may be looking for an excuse to get mad.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

Casting Webs...

Casting Webs...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Look, there he goes on that brand new car
See that big smile on his face
He's looking at those girls he just passed by
Pretending he is looking straight ahead

He's going to catch him one
That's why he drives this brand new car
It's candy apple red, sure to please
He's casting his web, sure he'll catch something

Catch something... he does
A beauty with blonde hair, blue eyes
A big smile on her face, pearly whites showing
Her hair blows in the wind, as she tosses it back

This man must be rich to afford a car like this
I'm going to catch him, though he thinks he caught me
Caught me... he has cast his web
Using his brand new car as bait to lure me

She lowers her eyes, acts sweet and shy
While he sits there driving, boasting of all he has
They are both after something... both unknowingly
Are casting webs, he to catch her... she to catch him

When he stops the car, they look into each other's eyes
Let's get married, we both know what we want
She thinks he has lots of money, he thinks she's sweet
They go get married... not long, the honeymoon's over

I've got to let this new car go back, I can't pay bills
As long as I have to pay this high payment on it
I don't have the money you think I have
She looks at him with evil in her eyes

I'm not as sweet as you thought I was
I just wanted your brand new car
You cast your web, I cast mine
Neither of us... caught anything

I'm tired of being a spider he thought
It's time to go fishing in the sea
He bought a boat and wore his speedo
No more casting webs, it was time to cast... fishing lures!

Everyone knows there's more than one fish in the sea
Isn't that what we are all told, every day of our life?
Catch one, throw one back... there's always another one
If that one don't taste good... you don't have to keep it

He caught a whale of a woman
Who wanted to ride his boat
She didn't care if he had a car, or not
She turned out to be really sweet

She didn't require a whole lot
Only a little water to moisten her skin
She could get that in his bathtub
He didn't have one... so, he had to toss her back into the sea

He didn't have a car, a boat no more
He was out of web casting material
What was a poor man to do
At least he had on a good pair of walking shoes

He walked, and walked hundreds of miles
Tired, weary he stopped at a tent in the woods
He saw a woman, her shoulders slumped
From the weight of the world

Their eyes met... it was instant love
No one had a net to cast out to catch the other
Only their eyes told the other what they wanted to know
They walked off into the beautiful sunset... lived happy ever after

Saturday, September 28, 2013

Homemade Soup... Beautiful Fall Day... Song By Wind Chimes And Breeze

Homemade Soup... Beautiful Fall Day... Song By Wind Chimes And Breeze...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Well... I got up early this morning, got my wonderful shower, dressed.  I fed our three Pups a nice breakfast in their freshly-washed bowls.  I never feed their meals in a dirty bowl.  I, also, have them a treat bowl each.

All are stainless steel bowls.  I put a rawhide chew, and two milk bones in each treat bowl for after they eat their breakfast.  I love to watch them get a treat, go lay down and chew contently.

This morning is cool, breezy, sunny.  It's another beautiful fall day.  I had to go outside... I did.  I raked, cleaned the Pups' fenced-in yard.  It's all sand now, thanks to the 'swimming pool fiasco' this summer (you can find it on my blog...  We always keep a clean yard for the Pups.  They love to run, play... and slide around in the soft sand.  The sand is wonderful... though... it can cause a dog to itch.  I have to brush them, often.  It's important to keep their yard clean.

I came back inside... the next thing I know... I'm making a homemade soup.  Oh my... today's a wonderful day for homemade soup.  It celebrates fall time,
welcomes the cooler air.  I have it simmering now.  I have the doors open, I can hear the sound of my wind chimes as the breeze playfully blows them... they are
singing 'it's fall time, it's fall time'!  My favorite time of the year... my favorite song by my wind chimes.  :)))

Homemade soup, a beautiful fall day... song played by wind chimes and breeze... it is a special day.  I may go out on the porch later, eat at the patio table... while I watch the clouds shift, change shapes in the clear, blue sky!

Thursday, September 26, 2013

He Charmed That Bird Right Out Of Her Tree!

He Charmed That Bird Right Out Of Her Tree!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

He walked into the office, looking as he entered
Seeing the pretty ladies sitting at their desks
He grinned, and began to play
This was just a playground to him

He loved to charm, and flirt
A twinkle was in his eyes, as he smiled
That big smile he was famous for
Who could resist such a happy face?

Oh my, your hair is beautiful
You smell good, too... how do you do
She smiled big, looking at him with eyes of blue
She fluttered her lashes, held her head high

How about a date, he asked her
She said, but... I'm married, I have a husband
Well, when you don't have a husband, you have my number
Call me, he said as he walked out... smiling his big, old smile

He knew what he'd done, what he meant to do
To see if he still had it, could still charm the birds out of a tree
He was happy, he felt on top of the world
For he had just charmed that bird ... out of her tree!

P.S.  I laughed today, watching a friend of ours tell his story of charming a lady at a business he was at recently.  His eyes twinkled with laughter, his mouth opened into a big, old grin... and I thought about it all evening... knew I was going to write about it!

He charmed 'that bird' right out of her tree!  I laughed because his expression was so happy... he knew he'd done something.  That woman got up from her desk, began following him around... some of her co-workers told him he had charmed her.  I could picture it in my mind... yep, he charmed that bird... right out of her tree!

I Wished To Be Santa Claus... Make That Little Boy's Wish Come True... Bullying

I Wished To Be Santa Claus... Make His Wish Come True (Little Twin Boy)... Bullying

Submitted by grannygee on September 26th, 2013 – Flag this news as inappropriate
Category: Personal
My attention was drawn to the tv screen. A photo of twins was being shown... the news was on. The twins were a boy and a girl. It seemed the
little boy had written a letter to Santa Claus. They were young... maybe 9-10 years old.

He didn't ask for anything for himself. He asked for Santa Claus to help his sister... to stop the bullying of his sister. The photo showed the little
girl to be chubby; enough chubby to draw attention to her from other children. Enough so... that the bullies of the school could have a good time
making fun of her, pushing her around.

I can't go any farther about her... I don't know anymore than what was said above, and the last sentence I could imagine. I do know about being a
cute, little chubby girl. I don't remember of course, how my mother let me be a little chubby girl... heck, I didn't know I was! But... I do remember
being made fun of, when another child became angry at me.

The kids in my own 'family' devastated me when they would become mad at me, make fun of me. I look back at my photos as a child... I was pretty,
and a little chubby, not even grossly so. Amazing....

It hurt me deeply, even to the point of 'wishing to die, and they'll be sorry they hurt me like that'. It's just a wonder with all I had to live with 'at home',
and all that occurred at school... that I didn't succeed in committing suicide. It did come to that point... I didn't succeed, and that's another story. But...
it happened.

A child is very sensitive... and people don't realize how close they push a child ... 'out of this world'. I watch on the news... often, you will see a young
child that... succeeded... in doing what 'I almost did'. Bullying... made fun of... made to feel less than... made to feel worthless... and when it comes from
not only from their classmates, and peers.... combined with an awful 'home' life... it's scary.

I know... I was 'that child'... I know how a little abused, bullied child is made to feel... how when all the other kids, plus... your family makes your world
'the end'. I remember as a little girl when my whole world 'went to hell' because of things I didn't understand.... divorce, me being thrown into 'hell' where
the whole world was dirty, scary... rats, roaches ... things I'd never known about, even seen.

I remember going to school after surviving hell each day at 'home'.... I'd 'survive hell' in school... only to come 'home to hell' each evening. Never any peace... always afraid, nervous, trembling. I was learning to fight to survive... I made it until I was thirteen... and I 'broke'. But, the good thing is... I survived that, too,
to only go to another 'hell'... to my father's home. A beautiful 'hell', everything clean, wonderful, nice.... but, I was the only one there... who wasn't wanted. I
learned I was just a 'step-daughter'... I was treated just that way. I could go on and on... but, that's for more stories... later.

Back to the twins... the little boy cared so much about his sister being hurt. That means his precious, little heart hurt each day to see the 'hell' being pushed
on the closest person to him... his twin. How sad is that? How beautifully sad... is that? It touched my very heart... I wished to make all the bullying go away
for that child.... that precious, little girl. I wished to be 'Santa Claus' and make that little boy's wish come true. 

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?

Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I was thinking about the past, to a time when I last saw some of my 'family'.  Family on my father's side.... I had been battling my own illness, been through two major surgeries, chemotherapy.  I think back to the treatment I received from them.

I looked really, really 'bad'.  I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  I was deathly sick... I lost weight too fast, and my airway closed off until I couldn't speak above a whisper.

The mass was on the outside of my lung, resting on my heart... closing off my bronchial tube.  This went on until finally... I was diagnosed.  At first, no one knew... until after many tests... I was dying.  I could barely walk... I had entered the dark world.

I didn't know anything, but... somehow, managed to walk on my own.  That fighting spirit....  I spoke from the darkness I was in... Skip would talk to me, I couldn't see him.  I thought I ate, said I'd eaten... never knowing I hadn't eaten anything.

Something wonderful happened... I didn't know it.  I'd lost probably 50 lbs. in a short time.  I never knew it... nor got to appreciate it.  Too sick.  You know I'd been happy about that... if I had 'known'.  :)))

I don't know of a lot of people who can look 'beautiful' when they are battling death to live life.  Do you?  Chemotherapy takes a lot out of a person.... side effects last for years, even to the day one dies.  I know.

Your body is beaten down... you keep struggling to 'get back up' each time.  You are knocked back down by death... to see if you have a fighting spirit to get back up.  It happens time after time... until you become stronger, better.

And... if people are added to your battle...  to make it worse... if you survive all that... you have become stronger.  Oh, God... I made it... that was such a journey.

After surgeries that take your physical strength away... chemotherapy finishes up the job... you are lucky you can even walk... much less do what I did.  I drove for two hours to go to my Grandmother Lola's funeral.  I was in a 'bad' way when I got there.

I just stopped for a moment to think about that.  Skip wasn't able to travel with me that day... he was on a trip.

I was all alone, not used to going out by myself.  It's strange... no one there at my 'family's gathering'... seemed to notice, care. Of course, 'me being me'... I never complained.  I never shared often how I was feeling, especially when I was 'at my weakest'.  I knew people treated 'weak people' bad...

It's taken all these years until this very moment... to realize that.  Not one person mentioned my illness, nor was glad to see me better.  It was like they... didn't know, or... acknowledge it.  Whereas, I'd run, not walked... to their side to be there for them.  To make sure they were okay, after 'knowing' they were fortunate to be alive.

I would have kept sensing them... to 'try to feel' if they were alright.  I would have been... kind.  I would have been ... protective.  It's 'my nature' to be like that... I don't care who, or how someone looks... I will protect ... if possible.

No one cared... no one cared.  I sit here in amazement... as I see all of them in my mind's eye.  I look at 'each one of them'... I smile a sad smile now.  But... I just thought of something else... 'it's my fault'.

Yes... it's my fault... 'I didn't tell them I was so sick, the trip had been hard on me'... that day.  I didn't tell anyone that I was worried about driving 2 hours on the busy interstate, to get back home after the funeral.  I didn't tell them I was afraid.  There wasn't any one person, I could have asked for help from.

I know 'several of you' who were there that day... are reading my life stories.  I remember 'you, and you... and you... and you'..... and how you treated me at the most worst time in my life.  You know that saying.... something about ... 'I wouldn't care if you were dying'... well, 'you all' taught me the true meaning of that saying.  Thank-you.

I really mean that... it just added to the things that 'I know how they feel'... 'I've been there, done that', sort of thing.  The good thing is... I don't hate you, and you, and 'you' who are reading this 'now'.  I honestly don't.

You thought I was a 'goner', and I'd never live to remember it.  I do remember... but, I don't have hard feelings toward you.  I would never say, 'do you remember when'?  I wouldn't have to, because... of course, you do.

You may just find out how it feels from your 'families' when you become weak in your older life... I do believe in people knowing how it feels to be treated the way they treat people, especially at a time that person's fought to live, and that person loved you, was glad to see you... you turned your back on them.

And... laughed, made fun of them?  Because ...of how they looked?  That's 'why'.... Camie, the little puppy I rescued... was 'thrown away'... that's why she was 'left to die'... she didn't look good enough, she was too sick.  I didn't turn my back on her... I gathered her up in my arms... I didn't know what I was going to do to save her... but, she 'damn-well' wasn't going to die alone.  I cared.

I promise that I remember probably every person who hurt me when they saw me... turned away, ran the opposite way.... when I was struggling, battling to live.  I wouldn't have ever run away from any of you... I would have come to you, let you know I cared, and was glad to see 'you'.

I have to say that one older man that I always loved, respected through the years... shocked me when I was so sick... we were in the supermarket.  He didn't see Skip... I'd turned the corner... when he saw me, he began talking fast... I couldn't understand him... he turned away, almost ran to get away.

There's nothing stranger to see than, someone 'acting completely out of character'.  I stood there ... stunned.  What did he say? I feel pain... he ran away.  It hurt me so much that I had to hold onto myself... when Skip came up, he asked me if I was okay.  I told him I was just very weak... I couldn't tell him.  I was so embarrassed to be treated that way by someone we both liked, respected.  I really felt... awful.

A couple years later, we learned that the older man had cancer... and he... died.  I felt sad for him.  I really liked him, I had always thought he liked me, too.  Isn't it ironic?

Same for the treacheous step-mother I told you about in a previous story... she had cancer... died within a couple of years after she did wrong.  Isn't it ironic?

I could name 'more' who had cancer... have died, since I was battling to live from my condition... and from how I was treated by ... them.  I cared for them; I loved them... if I had known, or seen them... I would have ran toward them.  They wouldn't have died being hurt by me... I would have.

Skip made me go with him to the supermarket, and places when I didn't want people to see me... I was so sick.  I had never been out in the public looking like I did.  I had never seen myself look the way I did, when I looked in the mirror.  I had always been dressed very nice, every hair in place... and ready to go anywhere.  Looking the way I did... I lost every bit of pride I'd ever had.

You see, I did have a beautiful head of hair, long and curly.  I loved my hair... I took pride in my big head of hair.  I lost it to the chemotherapy medicines to save my life.  I had to wear a wig, adding to the 'look' I was wearing.

Not only that... when it did grow back out to several inches long... I had to have surgery again... the cancer had returned to the inside of my other lung.  I had chemotherapy again... I lost my hair for a second time.  Can you imagine what this does to a young woman?  She's fighting for her life, people she loved... trusted turning their backs on her... and lose what we all treasure ... her hair?

Skip didn't want to leave me, when he had to go to the supermarket, stores... he wanted me to fight harder to live; wanted me to do the things I always loved to do.  He wouldn't 'let me be'... he wouldn't let me 'just sit' when I was too weak... he 'meant for me to get well'.

Skip is my hero... he knew how to 'invoke that fighting spirit' ... when it sagged.  Guess what?  I'm the same kind of person...  Skip is.  When he later became ill, diagnosed with colon cancer while caring for me... I meant to be well enough to care for him.  I 'had to become stronger'... and, I did.

I, also, 'knew how to invoke that fighting spirit'.  We 'meant for each other to live'.  We are here... now.  :)))

When I went with Skip 'out'... people I liked, cared about.... turned away from me.  Why?  Did they think they'd die... if they acknowledged me?  People 'used to love me when I was beautiful'... I learned what they'd do when seeing me when I was at 'death's door'.

Can you imagine the pain... grief added to my struggle?  Did you know... all of 'you'.... were God-fearing, 'good' people, 'christian people' who did this to me?  I knew 'each of you', I knew the very churches you went to... I knew you were 'supposed' to be fine, upstanding citizens of the community with your 'good' selves.

You were good... I don't doubt that at all.  I wonder 'what went wrong when you showed no compassion for someone who was deathly ill'?  What in 'your Bible' told you 'to turn away'?

I've sat many times trying to 'put myself in your shoes'... to understand 'why' you did the way you did.  'I swear, I just can't figure it out'.  I can't do that to someone... I hope I never do that. I am a good person, who cares with her heart for both people, animals.

I'm not a 'christian' who goes to church to fool, pretend to others that I'm something I'm not.  Don't you get so tired of seeing this happen?  I do get sick of it... I stay to myself, because I just simply can't tolerate being around 'false' people.  Be yourself... you'll be happier being 'true to yourself'... I promise.  I am.

You went to your church, probably... that following Sunday... sat there with a sweet, little contented smile... thinking about 'how good' you'd been all week, forgetting you acted at the supermarket... maybe that didn't 'count'.....

Some years later, I would meet you at the supermarket, stores, I would see how uncomfortable you were... 'you remembered how you treated a dying person'... now, you didn't want to speak to a ... person who won their battle to live.  Aren't you the 'fine one'?

You have to be proud of yourself... you never had to feel a thing... nor see... you turned your backs, with your Godly selves.  You didn't waste your christian-comforting words on me... it would have been like snagging up on a limb underwater, when fishing.  Too damn much trouble to get ... free.  There's more fish to catch...

I don't want to go to 'your heaven'... at all.  I don't know of even... one real christian.  If I did... that's who I'd like to be associated with.  No one is perfect... I don't care who you are.  I truly do... not believe... one person is 'that perfect'.  I really tried to be for several years out of my life... no matter how good I was... 'I wasn't good enough'...

Just because 'you aren't perfect' doesn't mean you treat people badly... especially when... they are at a point in life... a smile, even a kind word could make all the difference in them wanting to live... or to die.  Think about that... with your christian selves... when you are sitting there in church thinking you are so... Godly.

Do you know the 'power you have as a person'?  Just moving your mouth in the tiniest of smiles, if you didn't want to smile at all... can comfort someone without you realizing it.

You could even just 'smile' with your eyes, if you didn't want to move your lips.  You could barely 'nod' your head; barely 'move your hand'... just at least acknowledge someone, especially when they are very sick.  Did you know as a person... just doing only those little things... can bring 'big' comfort?

I realized I looked awful... in comparison with all my 'family' that day.  I looked like 'hell'.  I knew I'd made a terrible mistake in coming to her funeral... I was being judged by my family members... and some of them were glad they finally had a chance to laugh, make fun of me.  Why didn't someone come to me, care?

On both sides of my 'family', no one cared.  One brother that truly loved me, cared.  My brother, Ricky... 'Rick-Rick'.  He and I, had the same mother... we never grew up together.  No one knew he had a sister, and I... a brother... much less, a mother.  No one grew up in the same home... together.  No one could associate anyone with me to know... yes, I had 'real family'.  Just 'not like their families'.

I remember once when I was so bad off... I barely opened my eyes at the hospital... I saw Rick-Rick with tears in his eyes standing at the foot of my bed... he was looking at me with such pain in his expression.  I couldn't speak to him... did he ever know I saw him?  Did I ever tell him?

Sadly, my brother... Rick-Rick... died in 2007.  He was the only family member who loved as I did... he loved me no matter what.  I was the same way... no matter what.  The love we felt for each other didn't have anything with who, what we had in life... it was a true brother-sister love.  That's the only time in my life I ever experienced that... it was unconditional.  I never-ever felt that with anyone else in my 'family'... on either side.

I sat on the couch in my aunt's beautiful home... everyone sat around.  When I first got there, they looked me up, then... down.  I smiled, my face already feeling numb from medicines... felt number, embarrassed.  I shouldn't have been there... I was no longer 'good enough'.  I looked too bad, too sick to have done anything about it... I did the best I could.

I pretended not to see my sisters, and their families laughing at me.  They knew I'd been fighting for my life... I'd just come through battles they didn't know exist.  They never had an illness to knock them down to death's door... When one would catch my eye... I would smile in a kind way... I saw 'smirking' in theirs.

It was how I 'looked'.  I'd been fighting for my life to get to the point I was at in life for so long.  I was sitting there... being made fun of... laughed at.  I looked at one of them... who was a stripper in a bar... 'she' was making fun of me... to her mother-in-law who.........  I'll never forget that.  My sister was laughing at me... the one I truly loved as a child.

Strange enough that day... I saw three sisters.  One was a sister who had the same mother I did... she did seem to care; she looked for me.  She came to sit beside me... I will never forget that.  It did mean a lot to me.  She never knew the 'other sisters' I had... they all only 'knew of each other'.  At certain times in our lives... we'd all lived within ... 4-5 miles from the other... in different homes.

I remember the expressions from my 'family'... looking at her.  Everyone thought they were 'better'.  The strange thing is... they really ... weren't better, not at all.  She handled herself beautifully that day.  I'm sure with her being healthy, not ill like I was... she had surely seen how 'my family' were doing.

More strange is... 'they were all my family', not her family at all. I have to write it this way... it's a good thing I know all this... I would become confused!  Just know this as you read... I don't hate anyone, nor do I wish bad for them... I am just writing another 'color' in my life... a dark color.

So, no one has to judge anyone... you know, everyone is on a different plane in life... we do as we feel we must do... even, if we are making a mistake.  Then... time goes by... and maybe we think about what we did... and we are sorry... only, it's too late to go back to say that.  No one knows where anyone is... and no one knows how the other will take them... and ... all 'that kind of stuff'.

Years go by... and those kind of things 'become unimportant'... why?  Because, as time goes by... lots of time... one is learning the 'for-real' important things in life.  Those things from the past 'no longer matter'.  Sure, they aren't forgotten... but, there comes a time when you think to yourself... 'that's okay, now... they did what they felt they needed to do... for whatever reason'.

When people have these kind of things happen in life... everyone tends to think 'it's the end of the world... relationship'.  It's really not... but, not many people 'find their way back' to see that.  Be it pride, anger, pain... it prevents them from 'going back to see'.

From all this, I look for my lesson learned... it's that I'm amazed at the things that 'almost killed me, destroyed me, hurt me'... I forgive people for.  Those things that devastated me at one time or other in my life... no longer seem important.

I've let go a long time ago.  I'm so glad... I don't have 'to grow old' with 'pure hate' in my heart.  It's my nature to 'hate, be angry'... it was 'born in me'.  But... somehow, I've escaped 'that part of me'... I'm not like that at all... 'even if I appear' to be that way.

Of course, there are some people I'm never going to like... even the best person in the world... has 'those people'.  The main thing here is... to treat them with respect... be nice, get away from them as soon as possible.  You don't want them in your life, they aren't 'nice' people.  Don't waste time with them... you know how they are.

Sitting there, at my aunt's house, I fought the desire to just get up, leave.  Drive back home, hide myself.  I wasn't strong enough for the world ... yet.  I didn't know 'my own family' would become my enemy on my father's side of the family.  You wouldn't believe... I didn't.  How sad I am when I think about all that... transpired.  All I learned...

I will give them the credit they deserve for that day.  They won... they succeeded in making me feel so little.  I wasn't the strong, beautiful young woman they remembered seeing.  I sure didn't appear to be 'rich', anymore.  I know some of them were ...glad.

You know... jealousy.  Women are like that naturally...  think about it... you might not let others know it... but, naturally if you are a woman, there's someone you are jealous of... envy.  Females... it's a female 'thing'.

I won't even argue this with anyone... females are like this, no matter... how they hide it.  Life is like that... and that's the way it is.  That's right......

They had never seen me wearing such clothes as an adult.  Hell, I probably didn't know what I had on... myself.  All I could think about was my grandmother had died... I loved her very much.  I hadn't long been at the door... that she entered, and I ... ran away from.  Death's door... my grandmother was 100 years old.

I told you... you wouldn't believe how bad I looked... imagine someone you love, coming back from death's door... the only thing pretty about them is 'that smile in their eyes', the smile that says, 'I'm so glad to be here, I made it, I'm glad to see you'!

Fighting spirit, I do have.  I have more fighting spirit than... I have anything else.  I was taught that well as a child.  No one wanted me, on either side of my family.  It's made me feel the same way as an adult.  I don't really 'want' anyone that's 'family'... that's a good way of staying in turmoil.  I'm too private for that.

I only have a very few people in my life now... that I want.  I learned my lesson well... strange enough, it took almost this long... to learn this particular lesson.  Thank God, I have.  I can't bear the pain of loving so many people ... I've been taught 'over and over, and over' how it feels to 'lose everyone I truly loved'.

The pain, oh my God... the pure, pure pain of grieving.  If you never experienced it 'over and over'... there's no way ... you can understand.  Especially when it seems in life... the only people dying are the 'most important loved ones' you ever had.

'Now'... I want to be friends with everyone... but, I never want to be 'close' to anyone in my private life... never, never... never.  If you get gone tomorrow... I've got to be 'far enough back from loving you, as I can'... I can't bear the pain... the knowledge that you... are gone.

Truthfully, even the distance I put there... doesn't buffer the pain I feel in my heart.  I love people who don't love me back.  When I say that... I can honestly say... it doesn't matter.  I don't need their love... I just need how I feel inside... it feel right.

I hate people that I love... I don't love people that I like.  I was taught that as a little girl.  It's natural for me, but... probably not for you.  You probably had the perfect childhood.  I'm glad for you... you probably didn't have to learn lessons the hard way... making your life more rewarding, easier... happier.  It took me ... longer to get here.  :)))

The positive thing is... I turned out to be a 'good' person, too.  Even if you don't like me... or even if... you think 'you' are better.  It doesn't matter to 'me'... life isn't about wasting it on being liked by the wrong people.  Life is about real things...

My fighting spirit makes some people like me, or not like me.  Why?Because,  they see a very sweet person in front of them... and you know how it is... eventually there are going to be the ones... who want to take advantage of a good person.

Their thinking is that ... 'hey , she's too nice to be mean'.  How many times have I encountered that in my life?  People have even said after 'trying to take advantage of me... pushed me too far'.... 'but, I thought you were a nice person'!

They learned quickly... even a nice, good person ...has limits.  To be 'good, nice'... doesn't mean you have to do what 'bad' people want... or fall down on the ground and say... 'walk on me'.

When I say 'I don't like 'you'...  I promise  'you' .... there's good reason.    If I don't speak to you first, when meeting you... you can bet your 'ass' that you've done something negative to affect my life... and for the 'time-being'... I DON'T like you.  To get me to speak to you... you have to speak first.  I might warm up to you... I might not.  Depends...

Each person has power... no matter who we are.  No matter if people appear to not care... they do.  Doesn't matter who you are... it does matter.  Even the 'lowest person on earth' can make a person feel better... with just a nod, a wink... movement of their hand.. a tiny smile from their eyes... or mouth. Do you know the power you have as a person?

Monday, September 23, 2013

Comfort... Pure Comfort

Comfort... Pure Comfort
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Coffee...  I am sitting here at my desk.  Guess what is sitting 'on' my desk?  You guessed it... it's a big, old, hot cup of coffee.  I'm not even a coffee-drinker... I can take it ... leave it.

Do you know what I love about coffee?  The heat... warmth... coziness... most of all, the 'pure comfort' of holding a hot cup of coffee in my hands.  I know you are seeing in your minds as you read... looking back to the times when you became aware of enjoying your coffee the most.  You are thinking about the taste, of course... but, I know you are remembering how comforting it felt to hold that cup in your hands.  It was warm, soothing, special ... all the way to your soul.

There are those times that coffee can 'mean the whole world'.  The warmth of it 'really does' reach to your very soul, comforts you where nothing else does.  It's true... I know of one of those times when... nothing else could reach me, but... holding a hot cup of coffee in my hands did.

Our home had burned down... we lost everything.  It happened several days after Christmas in 2004.  We lived in a 200 year old house, historical house.  The man should have changed the wiring, was told to do so... he didn't.  He just placed a new box on the outside of the house... and went on about his business.  We learned from him that he did that... when we had asked about something.  He told us what he'd done, and that all was okay.  We were friends with him.  We never paid attention... everything was fine... we loved it there.

I'll never forget that day, though I see it through a fog in my mind.  I was leaving the house early that morning, I told Skip I'd see him in about a hour.  I was going to exercise. As I began to go out the back door, my attention was caught by a 'red glow'... I looked back across the room to the window.  That's the moment our life 'went to hell'... I cried, "Skip"!

That night we were put in a motel, along with our three Pups.  We were in a deep shock at all that happened that day.  Skip had almost got lost in the burning house.. he went back in to retrieve his billfold, and the only money we had.  He had several areas on his skin that had been burned.

A neighbor's voice led him out... I was on the other side of the house... grabbing each Pup (they were full-grown Pups, one being a huge Rottweiler).  I grabbed one up at a time, took it through the gate, and put it in my Expedition.  I did that 3 times, I saved our dogs.  Skip and I were never aware of what the other was experiencing.

I did feel the pain through my shock, and I did feel the weight of each Pup.  I'd had two surgeries several years prior.. it didn't take much to make me go into pain.  I live in pain every moment of my life... to this day.  It's my trade-off to live... you won't hear me complain.  I remember for a brief moment, asking myself 'can I carry these big pups to safety'?  I never thought anymore, I ... did carry them to safety.

At the motel that night, I opened a box our friend, Ms Nancy, had given us.  It was a Mr. Coffee Maker, and a canister of Folger's coffee, jar of creamer, 2 coffee cups.  I went to the sink, filled the carafe with water... I don't remember truthfully if I 'ran the water through the first time' before making the coffee.  Comfort... comfort, comfort was what I was seeking in my shocked state of mind.

I made the coffee, sat at the table the Mr. Coffeemaker sat on, listened to the gurgling sound.  I could feel in my mind that the sound was calming me.  It was a familiar, happy sound... one that most of us recognize.  Finally, the coffee was made...

I poured the coffee in both ceramic cups.  I gave Skip his cup.  I sat down, became lost in the inner storm in my mind.  I was lost in a fog, seeing fleeting images from the day.  I felt panic inside... what are we going to do?  How will we come out of this?  Thank-God, Skip and the Pups are safe!  Thoughts like lightening bolts were shooting through my mind... my heart thumping like thunder.  I was in turmoil... though to Skip, I think I looked calm, though my hands trembled as I held the hot cup of coffee.

The coffee!  Through my mind's storm... I began to feel... comfort.  I began to search for it through the fog... my mind slowly became aware of warmth... it was coming from my hands, warming me inside... finally reaching my... soul.  I held onto it, like a person reaching out for a lifesaver, finding it, holding on tight.

I sat there, for the first time in my life (I've never been a big coffee-drinker, though... the idea always seemed 'romantic')... for the first time in my life, I understood 'why' people loved coffee.  I, not only understood, I was at that very moment, experiencing 'why' coffee was so important to people.  That was when coffee became 'forever' important in my life.  Comfort... pure comfort.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Her Body Was Ready To Take Off... On The Next Note Of Music!

Her Body Was Ready To Take Off... On The Next Note Of Music!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

She got up to dance to the music that seeped deep into her soul.  It made her want to move... there was no way anyone could have stopped her... her body had to move.  Even she... couldn't have stop if she wanted to.

She stepped out onto the dance floor, colored lights going 'round and 'round.  She began smiling her little secret smile... she was going to dance.  Her secret was... when she danced, she became the music... she was the music.  Anyone watching would agree.

Music to her was like eating the best food... one didn't 'just eat the food'... one had a little ritual to get the very best from it.  She was just beginning hers.

She gently swung her hair back from her face... her face lowered, her eyes closed.  A sensation of goose bumps began on her arms... oh, this is what she was meant for.  To dance ... to dance the night away.  It didn't matter if she had a partner... she would never notice him... if she did.  

She changed into the music she heard, she felt.  She never saw the people who sat there... mesmerized by her.  She was like an exotic gypsy woman... her long tresses flowed, her long-colorful skirt twirled... gently; ever so easy.  One could feel the tension... something was about to happen... all eyes were riveted on the young, beautiful woman that swayed in front of them... she was like a silky ribbon gently flowing on a breeze... everywhere.

Her movements were like liquid, she flowed like a dream.  Her movements were sensuous as her hips began to move a little faster.  Her body arched, wanting to escape the confines of her human body.  It wanted to be free of gravity.  

Her lips trembled, her eyes were moist... dreamy.  There was nothing else in the world but, her and the music that she'd become.  She was doing what she was born to do... anyone who saw her recognized this was a natural-born dancer.  

Her hands fluffed her long, curly, blonde hair ... tossing it back from her beautiful face.  People gasped at the beauty they saw... she danced with the music as if it were her lover... no one had ever seen such.  Beautiful, sweet.... her lips were full, slightly opened.  Such beauty made people want to cry... to never see its motion ... stop.

She began to slow down as the music was getting ready to close... her senses began returning.  She was beginning to change into the everyday person she was... her magic was disappearing until... the next time.  

Her eyes widened as she became aware of the people sitting, looking at her... while their hands began clapping low, then... louder.  She tilted her head to her right shoulder, amazed... she was always amazed when 'she came back to earth'... when she became aware of people.  They acted as if she'd become something special...

Her lips smiled a sweet smile as she gracefully walked back to her seat.  She was ready to dance again... she felt her body ready to take off on the next note of... music!

Room Of Empty Bottles...



I was limping, I stopped, pulled my loafer off to look at the heel of my foot. It was bleeding and had little holes in my heel. Those nails were cutting into my heels, it hurt so bad. The inside of both of my shoes were bloody.

For so long... I had to wear these shoes... at one time they were pretty, and didn't bite into my feet to make them bleed each day. No one ever knew... I was too ashamed... too proud to let anyone know how I suffered. I would try to wipe the blood out of them each evening... I hated the smell of blood. That's what the inside of my shoes smelled like... blood.

I wished for a new pair of shoes, but, I thought no farther than that. The pain was too great. I just wanted to get home, I was tired from being in school all day... I had fought my daily 'battles' there, as I did each day. Not physically, but.. mentally.

My classmates, other kids made my life harder, never knowing how they contributed to my pain... pain I hid from them. No one knew how I suffered both.... mentally, physically. I was someone they could pick on and take attention off their 'imperfections'. Yes, I made it easy for them to 'point with their finger to direct attention away from themselves'. I had to walk 2 blocks to get home... I wanted to take those shoes off my feet.

I worried at how I'd find my beautiful mother. Would she be herself today, or would she be a 'monster' today. Everyday I always had to wonder what I would find when I got to the house my mom had gotten for her and I ... this was now... home.

I had my own bedroom and sometimes at nights I would wake from nightmares. One of the nightmares would be of my mama being under my bed having convulsions. I couldn't bear for anything to be wrong with my mama. To think about how much I loved her... brought tears to my eyes.

It was an awful nightmare that haunted me for years.... in my dream I would hear something under my bed, I would slip out of bed and look underneath... my mom would be lying on her back having a convulsion.

I would be sick at heart and scared when I woke up. I worried so much about my mom. Men tried to take advantage of her when she 'wasn't herself'. They would come here to this new 'home'. I hated them.

I loved it when my mama was 'my mama'... I loved my mama. She would smile, her eyes would sparkle with mischieviousness, and happiness, she would talk and laugh with me. She was so fun, and so beautiful! I was proud of my mama when she was like this. I wasn't proud when she was like.....

I came inside the house, I was looking around sensing like I did every day to know if 'mama was my mama'...or... if today she would be the 'monster'.

I heard her in the kitchen, I followed the sound. She had her back to me and I couldn't tell just yet. "Hello mama", I said. She turned around and smiled at me. I took a deep breath and thought inside 'thank-God'... that's my mama! I knew we'd have a good evening talking and laughing.

I walked by the little room we called a pantry. There was nothing in there, excepting.... even today I see this little room as I stand in the doorway.... bare wooden floor, sunshine coming in from the one window in there... over in the far corner a stack of clear medicine bottles piled up high in the corner.... sloping down toward me on the floor... dusty floor.

The sun was shining on the bottles, in each bottle I could see a little liquid... it was very pretty in the sunlight. It was green liquid. This room of empty bottles always made me sick to my heart. These bottles with the green liquid turned my mama into the monster she became for about three days at a time. She made my life pure hell and I was frightened of her.

The pile of empty bottles kept growing ... as it grew, I knew firsthand 'why'. My mother drank it... it changed her from beautiful to a monster. In my mind, at the age of thirteen, the only name I could think of to describe my mama when she changed ...was 'monster'. She was mean and very cruel to me. When she was my mama... she would never be mean to me.

My heels hurt so bad. I had to wear hand-me-down shoes, the nails in the heels were coming through... my feet bled and hurt. I never thought past that... I thought probably that was the way life was supposed to be. I never complained. I went into my bedroom to take my shoes off.. I just wanted to feel the cool hardwood floors on the bottom of my feet.

I ran into the kitchen to talk to my mama. Edna, my only friend, had come to see us. She lived next door to us. She was always so nice, and I thought alot of her. My mother liked her, too.

We all three were standing around the dining table, we were drinking glasses of chocolate milk. I still see the image in my mind, how funny and happy that time was. Someone said something so funny, that unexpectedly I became so tickled that I began laughing, chocolate milk spraying from my mouth.

I remember looking at my mother's eyes to see if she got mad. Her eyes were so full of surprise, and she began laughing harder. That was one of the happiest moments in my life with my mama. She never got mad at me for the chocolate milk... we all cleaned it up.

Several days went by, all went well. I was growing more tense by the day... 'it was time'. It was time, my mama was going to be a monster soon. It never failed. I wished so much my mama would stay the same way. I never told anyone at school what I lived with at home. Even as a child I was very private about 'what really went on in my life'. I protected everyone by not saying anything... it also, kept attention off me.

I was moved from here to there, made fun of depending on 'who' I lived with... I dressed good here, dressed bad there. I don't think anyone ever asked me why I'd come to school for a while, be gone for months or maybe a year or so, come back. It was a pattern.

The teachers even began to make comments saying that my mama 'not only looked just like Elizabeth Taylor, she got married as many times as Elizabeth Taylor', and moved as many times. They never realized 'it was only me' that was moved many times... they wouldn't have cared anyway.. they all had good lives and couldn't 'see' past that.

I would feel embarassed, but, I accepted that as part of my life. I didn't complain, I cried only when my feelings were hurt or I was physically hurt. I don't remember crying over something I couldn't have... somehow, I knew I wasn't good enough to have things. To have things one had to be like the girls who gave me that present with deodorant, soap and lotion. They lived in cosy, nice homes with real parents, cars, and they got to be in the Brownies, and in different things at school. At that time, I knew I wasn't 'good enough', also... there wasn't money for anything I needed. I never asked, I didn't think to.

Oh no! I heard something falling to the floor in the kitchen when I came in the front door. I felt that familiar dread, sick feeling in my stomach, my hands began trembling. I walked slowly to put my things in the bedroom. I knew I had to see my mama sooner or later. I hoped she wouldn't scream at me. I took my hated shoes off my feet.

I tiptoed quietly to see where my mom was, I heard her. She was in the kitchen. She'd made a mess on the table. The 'monster' was here now. I was afraid. I was sick to my soul, life was going to be hell for several days.

My mama began screaming at me to do this, to do that. I couldn't bear hearing her voice full of anger at me. What did I do? The whole evening went like that... she was cussing, ranting and raving at me. I asked her once could I go outside and play in the street with the kids. "Hell no!" she screamed at me. "You have too many things to do in here!"

I gradually sneaked off to my bedroom to get away from her. I couldn't feel good being in there with her, nor here in the privacy of my bedroom. She could come in here at any minute to scream at me. My mama did just that! Her face would be contorted into a face that I didn't know, a horrible monster face with demon eyes looking out at me. It seemed she took pleasure in making me cry, hurting me so, that I would. She hated me when she was a monster. 'Why'... I didn't know.

Life was hell, and it grew to the point that I couldn't take anymore of it.... I didn't have anywhere to feel safe at, I was hated at home, at school... no one would look at me, if they did they 'looked down' at me. I'm sure they thought I was white trash. A girl had already called me a whore... I didn't know what that meant. I was labeled with names I hadn't deserved ..or earned as a child, much less knew the meanings of.

My mama whom I loved with my very heart... could become a monster just at anytime. I didn't know exactly 'why' she'd become a monster but, I did know it had something to do with all those clear bottles in the pantry.... in that big pile that sloped down... in the sunlight those bottles were pretty... each held a small amount of green liquid in them... the 'whole' picture of those bottles was ... pretty. Colors attracted my attention... the pretty green always drew my eyes toward it.

Somehow, I 'knew' that green liquid in those bottles contributed to the hell I lived in for that period of time. Yes, each and every one of those empty bottles affected my young life in some way... many ways. Not only that... my beautiful mother's life. We were both victims.

That room of empty bottles... with the little splash of green color in each one. Empty bottles, green liquid... all sloping from high up in the corner into a pile downward toward the door... toward me, when I stood there. I never thought to taste it... to see if I'd like it. I knew that I liked that pretty color... green. I liked how the clear glass bottles sparkled in the sunshine... diamonds and emeralds... that's what they made me think of, in that room of empty bottles.

Those bottles, that beautiful liquid of emerald green had... strange powers. Those crystal clear glass bottles... with a splash of emerald green mixed with the golden light of the sunshine piled high in that corner... only a dusty floor beneath them, and bare walls around them, one window letting the sun shine through to highlight... those empty bottles, empty excepting for the little splash of emerald green in each bottle. I remember those bottles so well.

Those bottles made such an impression on me the day I walked into the door of that room... I don't remember seeing that 'pile' grow... I just remember the pile that was so high. That pile of bottles ... if one had taken a photo of it, it would have made a pretty piece of art... colors of crystal clear, golden light, emerald-green liquid in a stark, empty room...with a dusty floor.

Know that this author loved her mother with her very heart, know that she would be rich just counting the tears she cried just for her mama in her whole life. Just think how rich I would be if I counted the tears for 'all' the ones I've lost in my world...

I miss my mama with my heart. She was a very good-hearted person... she really would give you the last thing she had if she knew you needed it. She was beautiful, no matter the life she had... addictions are powerful. We all have had one or the other in our lives... habits are hard to change. They become 'one with us' until we no longer recognize ourselves or... others recognize us...... without them. We can't live without them. I always 'saw my mama', I always recognized my mother.

In my life my 'addictions' have been smoking as a young woman, it took almost dying and forgetting there was such a thing as a cigarette... to break my addiction. I never remembered smoking after I entered the world between 'life and death'. I know firsthand how powerful that addiction is. My next addiction was/is ..... eating good foods. Just these words in this paragraph... think about them.............. if you smoke are knowing exactly what I mean.

If you don't... 'feel' the power of those words and 'know'...... that once people are addicted, it's not easy to 'let go'.... of anything. I have compassion, empathy for people who fight addiction, because in 'my own way'.... I know and have this to compare with.

I can look around me, watch tv... I know that I'm not alone in this 'addiction/habit' of ... eating. We eat for comfort, pleasure in tastes and textures of different foods as well as for satisfying our hunger.

I constantly 'fight the battle of obesity'... I'm fighting it now, and actually doing very good in my struggle. As a young woman... to stay 'beautiful, perfect'... I could only eat a couple of spoons of food, or eat several very tiny bites of food, only drink mostly liquids, dance and walk, run... to stay small enough to wear sizes 8-9. Oh... I would look at my beautiful designer clothes and know if I wanted to wear them... I would continue to starve myself. I know what it's like to be 'on both sides'.

I would like to add.... 'everyone loved me, Gloria'... when I starved myself... and stayed so tiny. I was popular, what I thought ...mattered, when I spoke...everyone heard me no matter how softly I spoke. I was 'perfect' as long as I 'had that addiction to starvation'. I had to suffer for years to be so popular, so 'loved', so 'perfect'............ I was the most imperfect being in this whole world. Strange 'how we humans' ........ 'see and think'. Don't you agree?

I suffered to be loved and thought of as 'somebody'. For a number of years now... I am only myself, I don't starve for anyone's attention or their love... I like myself.

I wonder if my mom's addiction began at some point to make her more acceptable in other people's eyes, more beautiful, more 'perfect'? Something made her have a 'starting point'.... all addictions She was 'perfect' in her beauty, her personality... just being herself. Of course, like people who have entered 'that world'.......... it becomes 'more than that'... they begin to not be able to live without what they 'need'. It's almost 'too late' for them.

My heart breaks for people who go through their 'own hells' while living here on earth.... my feeling is that when you live in 'hell' while here.... you go to heaven when you die. You've earned it by the time you die. My opinion only... I know you have yours.... I respect it, as I know you will mine.

I am sitting here... I see that 'room of empty bottles piled high in that corner'........ with a little splash of emerald green in each..... beautiful, golden sunshine making all 'sparkle'..... magic. My favorite jewelry is gold and diamonds, emeralds... I wear only gold and diamonds... maybe one day a emerald. I would think of those bottles, and their power.

I'm glad I never thought once of...... tasting that beauty... it never lured me excepting to see 'the art, the colors, the way those bottles sloped down to the dusty floor, sunshine making the bottles, liquid... sparkle'. Such beauty in that ..somehow. Strange, isn't it... strange how I think that... looking back.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Kissy Tried To Fit In That Small Space... I've Never Seen Him Do That Before

Kissy was 'hugging' Chadwick (our yellow Pup)... they slept that way for over an hour!  I'd never seen Kissy do this before...... September 19, 2013... Friday.


Kissy Tried To Fit In That Small Space...  I've Never Seen Him Do That Before
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Last night, I saw our Rottweiler named Kissy do something, I'd never seen him do before.  I was at my computer, happened to turn around to check on our Pups, to see where they were.  (We have three Pups... Kissy; and Chadwick, our yellow Pup; and Camie, the little blue merle Puppy I rescued).

I took a photo of what I saw... it was taken in the near dark with the flash on my Iphone.  Only the tv was on making light in the room.  Chadwick had went to sleep on the couch... and left only a very small place between his rump, and the arm of the couch.

Look at the photo... Kissy did his best to get up on the couch to sleep beside Chadwick.  Do you see how he only 'fitted' in that space 'just so much'?  :)))  Does he look as if he is hugging Chadwick?

I was looking at them for the longest time.  They both slept soundly, never waking up as I took photos of them.  They stayed that way for over an hour.. only Kissy's leg moved.

I was thinking Kissy was hugging Chadwick... because Chadwick 'escaped' yesterday... and 'he might not have come back'.  I was thinking Kissy is so glad his brother came back safely.  Kissy tried to fit in that small space... I've never seen him do that before.

Something Bad Could Have Happened... Sweet Chadwick Escaped

Something Bad Could Have Happened... Sweet Chadwick Escaped
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

He ran like the wind, he didn't hear the voice calling him to please come back.  He ran toward the open field near by, stopped... turned to look back.

He saw her standing at the gate... he saw pain on her face.  He couldn't stop... this was his chance!  He turned his back on her as he heard her cry again.  "Please come back, please come back"!

He ran toward the trees, down the bank... into the highway.  He could hear someone crying behind him.  Please come back, the woman cried.  He turned for a moment to look at her... no matter how much he loved her... the pull to run was too strong.

He ran down the side of the highway, into the front yard of their home.  He laid down on the grass, rolled... got up, ran to the highway.  He heard the woman cry out to him... he heard the sound of a car coming fast.  He didn't know which way to go!

Just as he began to cross the road, he felt something push him back!  The woman saw him suddenly leave the road, saw his hair flattened out from the force of the wind.  The car never slowed down as it passed.

He soon forgot about the car... ran like the wind.  He ran all around, never leaving the sight of the woman.  Her shoulders fell, tears fell down her face.  She turned, went inside the gate...

She went into the house, opened the refrigerator, took a cooked hamburger patty out.  Outside, she went... she saw him.  She began talking to him, telling him she had something good for him.

He ran down the length of the fence, neared the gate.  He smelled the hamburger, followed it.  The gate opened just enough, he followed the hamburger until he was safely inside.

The woman looked at him... told him she shouldn't even give him that hamburger for upsetting her like that.  She looked down into his face, smiled... looked up to the sky.  She thanked God that he was safe.

She looked around her, at the other two.  These three Pups, her husband... Skip, were her whole world.  She almost lost one of them, because she was careless at the gate to their fence.  She felt weak from relief, from being so grateful he was safely back inside.

Chadwick... Sweet Chadwick, the 'Wick-Wick', their yellow Pup had escaped for about ten minutes.  He ran like the wind, rolled in the grass, felt freedom for a short time.  He came back to his fence... he wanted to be home where he was loved, protected, cared for.  He wanted his family around him... he knew them.  He didn't 'know out here'.

Gloria leaned over, took his sweet face, kissed it.  The other two Pups, Camie and Kissy... ran to be kissed, too!  She kissed them all, hugged them, and thanked God they were safe.

Something bad could have happened... when Chadwick escaped.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

If She Was Going To Live Now... She Might As Well Get Started

If She Was Going To Live Now... She Might As Well Get Started
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Artwork By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee......................................

She sat up slowly, tried to focus her eyes
Closed them, opened them hoping to clear them
Of Death's glaze that almost sealed them forever
She put her hands over her eyes

The pain... pain everywhere, nowhere the most
She looked over to the steps that led up on the porch
Looked to the door... then, to the sky

Where it was blue, white clouds before... it was getting dark now
She wanted to be in the house if she couldn't lay here dead
Afraid of the dark outside, more than the darkness on the inside
She began to push herself up to stand up

She trembled, almost fell back down to the ground
Determination pushed her ass to stand up
She stood as she meant to, if she was going to live now
She might as well... get started

She put one foot forward, held it firmly to the ground
She wasn't going to fall down, she had to make it inside
She was afraid of the dark, something might get her
Being alive brings its fears... the darkness was one of them

She put one foot in front of the other
Until she got to the steps... if she had to crawl
She was going up them, she didn't make it this far
For nothing, she'd get herself in that house

Lock the door against the night, sleep on the floor
If she must... it didn't matter now, if she lived
Everything past death a short while ago is a plus
She could ... 'not be' ... doing anything ... now

Holding onto the hand rail, she pulled herself up
Until she got to the top, stood there, slowly looked around
She didn't know she'd see all this again
The big oak tree in the yard, the yellow bushes with flowers

When she closed her eyes last, she never thought about
Ever seeing again the things she loved
As these thoughts went through her head
Where before... no thoughts were being thought of

She reached the storm door, opened it... went inside
Closed the wooden door that was still standing open
How long ago did it get left opened
She couldn't think past this moment, she locked the door

She walked slowly through the living room, down the hall
Turned right, went into the bathroom ... turned the faucet on
She propped herself on the counter, put her face down
Splashed cold water onto her face, in her eyes

Toothbrush in hand, she put the toothpaste on it
Brushed the taste of death out of her mouth
If she was going to live, her teeth were going to be clean
When she was stronger, she would get into the shower

For now, she was going to lay down
Sleep the sleep of life, not death
Either way, she wouldn't have to feel the pain
That pushed her into Death's arms

When and if... she woke up, she'd decide what to do
For now, it didn't matter... she couldn't change a thing
No strength was left in her mind, her body
For now... she couldn't do a thing

Hours later, her eyes opened, her ears heard no sound
She lay there, letting her mind fill with thoughts
She felt anger, pain in her heart... she knew now, what to do
If she was going to live now... she might as well get started.

She Closed Her Eyes... Tried To Die Again

She Closed Her Eyes... Tried To Die Again
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Young Granny Gee/Gloria

She sat on the floor, scissors in hand
The photo album lay on her lap
Memories looked up from the pages
She couldn't see for the tears

Seven years of her young life were wasted
It's come to this, it was time to let go
Time to say goodbye, she couldn't take anymore
She took the last of the pills, drank the glass empty

Her shoulders shook with her sobs
Tears flowed on the photos of happy faces
From a face that was far from happy
Death was near, waiting for her to fall asleep

Death would claim her, take her away
To a place she'd never come back from
It's the end... she couldn't bear life anymore
He did that to her... his love killed her

He put a young girl out in the countryside
Forgot her as he went on to live, play
She sat there day after day... all alone
No one to talk to, no one around

He'd come home to tell her about his fun
He was having every day; he'd get up, leave
Never looking back to see what he'd done
Each time he left, he took more of her life

He was her world, he'd made her dependent on him
There wasn't anyone else in it... she was alone
When he became bored, he left to play
The home became a box he kept her in

Put up until he came back, decided he wanted to play
With her... she was his personal possession
He wouldn't share her with the world
He kept her shut up in ... darkness

She could walk outside
But, in her mind she was in a prison
She couldn't go anywhere, unless she walked
No town for many miles away

She cried, beat her head against the wall
Just a young girl who loved life
Yet, life was taken from her
Taken was the spark in her eyes, smile from her face

She became the living dead, having to feel
Pain every day of her young life
If she was dead... she didn't want to feel pain
Let Death come embrace her in its arms

She could close her eyes in peace
No more torment, no more lies
No more being alone, no one to hear her cries
As her eyes became unfocused, she saw a happy smile

On the photo in her hand, she cut it into tiny pieces
The pieces fell onto a bigger pile in between her legs
Where she sat in the middle of the floor
Her legs Indian-style, her head bowed

She sat there until she slowly ... fell forward
Her hands relaxed, the scissors fell
She became conscious for a moment
Enough to gently fall to the carpeted floor

Death came, looked at her
Death turned its head this way, that way
Even Death has a heart, sometimes... it won't take
A young life away, especially this young girl's

She's only lived sixteen years, has seen only hell
Now, she'd been put up in a box, the lid closed
Her home, her box... was nice, clean, pretty
There was only sadness, unhappiness here

Death decided to play with her
Let her come to just enough to let her move
Without being aware, she crawled a little ways
Toward the door, somehow managed to push it open

She lay still once again, came to enough to crawl out on the porch
Her body lay there, she was dead
No thoughts went through her head, she didn't know she moved
It crawled once again, fell off the porch onto the ground

She lay in the darkness of Death
Pain began to get to her mind, though she didn't recognize
It for what it was... her eyes began to flutter, light seeped in
She lay there, couldn't move

She opened her eyes slowly, saw grass
As sensation crept back into her body, the pain became stronger
She still didn't know its name
She heard someone crying... she heard that pain

Crying from the very depths of one's soul
She began to realize it was herself
Crying because she loved with her heart
She'd never felt so alone... no one to care for her

She was still a child, ran away too young to marry
Always lived in town life... never like this
Never without adults around, never mind how they treated her
She closed her eyes... tried to die again

No thoughts, she was gone again... held in Death's arms
Death looked at her, felt for her
He looked at her pretty, young face red from grief, pain
Still wet with tears... she was beautiful in death

Let her come back once more to see what she'd do
She again became aware of something touching her skin
Her hand slid across the grass to her face
Touched her cheek, felt the breeze gently blow, dry her tears

I want to get up, I want to live
Her body didn't move, only her eyes did
The white clouds in the sky ... the blue, blue sky
Green grass in front of her eyes

Pain, stinging pain over her body
What could it be... a thought came into her mind
Ants were stinging her back to life
Coaxing her to get up, get up... it's time to live

Her body wouldn't move, it was heavy
Death had almost claimed her, gave her a break
Held her in its arms, looked down into her face
I'll let you live... who knows what life'll bring your way

Death released its grip a little more, the young girl began to move
She was trying to get up off the ground
Her body fell back once again... too much effort
She felt sick... she remembered the bottle of pills

Too weak, she laid on the ground
Her mind became stronger, I want to get up!
Death smiled at her in a gentle way... she's fought hard
To live, even while she tried to die

She sat up, felt sick to her soul, I'm too tired to live
It was easier to fall back to the ground
She looked at the grass, laid back down
She closed her eyes... tried to die again


Monday, September 16, 2013

I Don't Want You To Know... You Might Not Be As Strong As I Am

I Don't Want You To Know... You Might Not Be As Strong As I Am
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

My son, my only child... Tommy, holding his little son.  I miss you, Son.  I was so proud of you.

You know how it is when you get busy doing something... your mind begins to wander here, there.  In just a short time, one can think a 'million' thoughts... about many different things.

My mind lingered on my new book I'm in the process of completing.  I've had to stop for a few days.  Chadwick, our Pup, had 2 seizures 'out of the blue'.  My attention has been on him... I couldn't concentrate on 'writing words'.

I did go outside, on the porch... yesterday.  I painted while I was near the Pups, where I observed Chadwick.  I paid close attention to him.  He's normal... he is the same Pup.  He has never appeared to be sick.

I'm thinking that what I read is... what's wrong with him.  I 'feel' it's low blood sugar.  He's so active, moves very fast... he burns up calories quickly.  I looked back in my mind... both times, he and Camie (the little precious puppy I rescued) were running so fast around their yard... that I could hardly follow them with my eyes.  Are they secretly ...gray hounds?  Race dogs...

I know blood sugar can drop lower in a person when they exercise.  I feel that happened with Chadwick (we call him 'Wick' or 'Wick-Wick').  I have been making sure to give him a little snack every several hours between his main meals at breakfast, supper.

I began thinking about wiener roasts, toasting marshmallows, and hot chocolate.  Fall time, my most favorite season is upon us... it's time to think about these things.

The strange thing is... I forgot to think about such things since Tommy died on May 29, 2010.  I thought about what I've forgotten to think about for 3 years.  Holidays are 'one of them'.  I think that I can think about them this year... and 'everything be alright'.

I have been so 'lost' until this past year.  I have been 'finding myself'... things happen to knock me back down.  I keep getting up, dust my ass off (yes, I said that in defiance)... and 'go it again'.  I'm not staying 'down'.  I've come a long ways... I'm sure not 'going back'... too dark, scary... too easy to become lost once more.

Can't take that chance... have to keep my mind on the light, colors, life... now.  I have to hold on to these things with my very life.  I don't have to hold so tightly now... because I know I can make it 'now'.  I think I can relax my grip on life... some 'now'.  I don't want to go back to the ... darkness.

I still go through such overwhelming periods of time, grieving for Tommy.  It consumes me, occupies my every thought...  I feel as if I'll die, myself... it's the very pain.  The intensity...  can make me have to lay down... it hurts that bad.

I keep telling myself, just bear with it... it's going to be alright... just get past this... it's going to be alright.  A lot of times, it gets alright in a short time.

It's those times, when it takes... longer, that make me afraid.  That's when I'm afraid... that's when the pain is so raw, so 'looming up in my mind like it has just happened'.  That's when my chest feels it will explode, I feel as if my very soul is screaming.

That's when it's hard to live with myself... I have no place to go.  I can't go get in the car, drive away... leave the pain behind.  I can't simply walk off from it, and not feel, hear, know it.  It follows me my every waking moment.  I only find peace when I go to sleep... when my mind can't think.

Though, I tell you this... I still know everything's going to be alright.  I try to think of something to describe just a little to make you know how it feels.

Nothing I tell you can describe the grief for the loss of your child... you DO have to lose a child to know this pain... so, when I try to describe in mere words... know this.

Suppose you had to walk everyday to where you are going to.  You don't have a choice... you are going to go whether you want to, or not.

Suppose there were things on your path that you 'were going to face' each day.  Bad things.  Maybe there's a yard you have to walk by that has a very mean, angry dog... and it comes after you, follows you for a time, until it turns back.  It could get you any moment, shred you up in a 'million' pieces.

Sometimes, it draws blood.  The mean, angry dog grabs you, shakes you, bites you several times.  You fight like hell, manage to get away.  You've been wounded, yet... over time, you are going to be alright.

Each time you pass by that yard... depending on how much that mean, angry dog wants you... determines the severity of the pain he inflicts on you.  He could destroy you... but, only ... if you allow it.

Grief is like this... only ... worse.  It isn't the same each time it 'happens'.  Everyday... the 'threat is there'... to get me.

When your mind begins to panic, thoughts going here, there non-stop... your stomach feels the trapped birds in a cage... pecking, screeching, fluttering their wings wildly to escape... the pain so great... you feel as if you'll die from it all.

You HAVE GOT TO make yourself... your thoughts slow down.  No matter what, you have to do this... I never said it was easy... and I didn't say it'll work every time.

Slow down enough, so... you don't become confused, forget where you are... because as sure as the sun shines... you are going to get lost in... grief.  You'll get lost in the dark...

You can't find your way back easily... if you 'go too far'... you have to make yourself think, slow your thoughts down... to come back.  Otherwise... something bad's going to happen.  

Saying all that... is easy.  It doesn't mean you can do it every time... you can't.  In fact, sometimes... you can't think ... for the pain.  You do get lost in grief... I do get lost in grief.  I can't think about things around me... they cease to exist for a time.

I am looking 'inward'... I'm trying 'to bring Tommy back'.  I'm wishing Tommy wasn't gone... Tommy wasn't................... ............. can I say it?  I'm wishing Tommy wasn't ..... dead.

Dead... my son is ... dead.  I can say it right this moment.  I'm not ... lost in grief.  Sometimes, I can be alright... and grieve at the same time.  Sometimes... I can say 'that word'... dead.

Dead... dead... dead.  I made myself say it... I felt my eyes close, and I felt a bright flash of pure, white anger.  My son is ... dead.  I see his face in mind... I do have stop, now.  Sometimes, one can push things too far...

'Bittersweet'...  flavors of life... death.  It's very painful, but... one can find beauty, specialness at the same time... but, only at times when it's a 'bittersweet' time.

I won't become lost in grief, today.  I can tell at this moment, I will be alright.  I did 'feel mad' for a brief moment.

See how my thoughts... turned to ... grief for Tommy, my only child, my son?  This happens all the time... right in front of you... everywhere I go, no matter what I do.  You never know... unless you come 'here' to read it.  I never bother anyone with... my grief.

If you read about it... you choose to read, and leave quietly with thoughts of your own.  So.. no matter what, everything is alright... you can go back to your life... see, hear, enjoy your children... I smile for you.  I wouldn't want you to know what I feel.  It's already happened to me... I'm stronger now, for it happening.

No, I wouldn't want you to experience this.  I've accepted I can't change a thing.  I don't want you to know this... since it's already happened to me... let me be the only mother to know.

I'm going to be thinking about what could possibly be special, beautiful about death... about Tommy being gone.  What positive can I find in my heart about him being gone?  What have I learned from the death of my only child?

No more questions... you, no one can answer them for me.  I won't waste my time asking 'why?'  I may as well walk to the wall behind my desk... stand there, beat my head against it... I will never learn the answer to my 'why?'.

Don't tell me... if you really don't know.  If you do know, 'have been there'... I'll listen.  Otherwise, don't say anything... I don't want to 'not' like you.  I'm not writing to just get comments.  This is ... real life... the 'bad' part of it.

This is the part of life, 'you' don't want to know.  Just read it, and be so grateful you don't.  I'll tell you so, you don't have to experience to know.  I don't want it to happen to you.  You might not be as strong as I am.

Grief is the threat of a thunderstorm happening anytime, day or night.  Written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Oh, It Felt So Good To Do That Again!

Oh, It Felt So Good To Do That Again!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Bird feeder, Flower Chair, and Striped green chair... painted by
Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Today, I went outside on the porch.  The air felt wonderful, there was a nice breeze blowing.  The Pups were playing with each other, running from the other... another chasing them.  I smiled as I watched them run on the soft sand in the yard.

They kicked up dust when they ran fast, slid to a stop.  I was glad to have the sand in their yard.  We had gotten it originally for the swimming pool... that turned into a fiasco when the guy we hired to level the sand... didn't.

The wind chimes were playing in the breeze... I loved the sound coming from them.  One of the wind chimes is one that my son, Tommy, got for me from the World Market.  I treasure it.  I have very few things he ever gave me.  We lost so much in the fire that took all our belongings back in December 2004... including many things my son gave to me.

I felt an excitement inside... could it be?  Is it possible that I might... I tested myself.  I got my paints, brushes, paper plates, paint cloth, water and begin setting them up on the patio table.  I am feeling right!  I want to paint!  It's been so long since I've painted.

I could never paint for anyone again... I can't take the pressure anymore.  I could paint for myself... and before I knew it... I had painted the chair, bird feeder.

For a time, I was in that magical, special world I truly love to visit.  Time went by... happy sounds all around me.  The Pups were playing... music by my wind chimes... the breeze blowing on my skin, in my hair.  The temperature was just right.

The next thing... I was gathering my paint supplies to take inside.  I came back, stood... admired my artwork.  Not too bad for the first time painting in many months... many months.  I couldn't believe I could still paint.  :)))

I didn't take time to practice before painting... I decided that nothing had to be 'perfect'.  I just wanted to enjoy myself... no pressure.  If I made mistakes, that was okay... too.

Oh, it felt so good to do that again!

Friday, September 13, 2013

You Can't Blame Me For What She Says... Just Because I Write It!

Yes, that's right!!!  Just Remember!

 “You can't blame a writer for what the characters say.” 

- Truman Capote

 You Can't Blame Me For What She Says... Just Because I Write It!

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 Just because she says something you don't like... what she says makes you mad... or glad... don't blame 'me'. It isn't my fault... it's her, the character that says it.

I just read a short time ago something someone else quoted. They quoted, 'you can't blame the writer for what a character says'. I went back to look for it so, as to give the person credit; I couldn't find it.  (I found it.... by Truman Capote).

It makes sense. You can't judge an author for what their characters say. Their characters are like you, I. They are all individuals. Some are nice people, some are not. Some will cuss, some won't. Some have a certain way of saying things... others aren't so interesting.

So, when you read what myself... or any other author writes... remember the little saying I just read (I can't take credit for it... I didn't write it... I just loved it!).... 'you can't blame the writer for what a character says'.

So, if my character says 'damn'... you can't blame me for what she says... just because I write it!