Photos of my son, Tommy ... and his son, Taban. Dates on the photos are wrong ... dates are when I took photos of these photos. I take photos of my photos ... something pulls at ME to do so ... especially when photos such as these two mean so much to ME.
These photos were taken on May 29, 2009 at a lake ... one year later on May 29, 2010 Tommy and Taban were at the ocean ... where Tommy collapsed, died on the beach where he last played with his son. He didn't know he had 3 blockages to his Heart.
Two bodies of water ... father and son ... one year to the day my son died. May 29, 2009 .... May 29, 2010. Strange?
I finally put both of these photos in one place, here ... I never could find them together in my photos ... this morning ... I did.
I used my camera phone to snap shots of them so ... finally I have them together where they belong. No big deal to anyone but, ME.
I read these words this morning ... 'don't let yesterday take up space'. You know ME and words ... they touched something in Me.
Now ... I am thinking about them ... understanding the 'why' these words stood out to ME.
I truly love words ... the most important words are the ones that make Me stop ... look at them a second time ... then more times until I'm satisfied at the message to Me in them.
You and I both could read these same words ... and both get a different message from them.
I know we see, hear, feel things in Life that become our Life-changers.
Things that decide which Life's path we go down ... wow, the journeys we embark on!
See how just simple words cause a lot of thought? I was analyzing these words to 'know' what I feel I should know.
Things happen for a reason ... words stand out for a reason.
These words made ME feel, KNOW that what I have been doing for months is/are ... right for Me ... Us.
I have been getting rid of tons of clothes, dark-colored furniture... taking them to the convenience center, to clothing bins.
These are the 'millions of clothes that take up room' in our closets ... giving us less room for our clothes ... today.
I know I kept all my clothes to 'one day wear' ... the different sizes' for when I lose weight' to wear them ... things I liked too much to get rid of. Things hard to part with.
After all these years ... a miracle happened! I just began taking piles of clothing, everything... putting them neatly into bags, boxes ... worked until I got them on the pickup ... took them away.
I took ... 'years of our Life'... away ... made room to live today ... without the weight of ... yesterday.
How I did it all ... is a miracle in itself! I live each day doing normal things still recovering from a serious injury.
I won't ... can't tell anyone what that's like. I don't complain ... why?
Because ...
When I come to major crossroads in my Life ... for some reason I never choose the easy path ... that's the 'Give Up Path'.
The path I always choose is the 'Fight Like Hell Path. I can't tell you how many times in my Life I have chosen this path of pure Hell.
I have fought like Hell with the intent of winning so, I could go on living ... I pure love Life.
I have been knocked down on the ground ... too weak to get back up from illnesses ... physical/mental things so, so many times in this Life.
My mind screamed to just give the f___up! Just give the f___ up! Forget it! I can't take anymore! My body, mind hurts so bad! To Hell with it all! I don't give a damn anymore!
What happens? I see my Grandma Alma and George in my mind ... a paralyzed woman, a blind man. Oh my God, their Life WAS pure Hell everyday!
They were the two strongest people I've ever known. Their own bodies were obstacles in their path along with all the Hell they lived in each day.
How in the world ... why?! Did they do it? They were fighters ... they 'meant like Hell' to live.
They knew little children depended on them or be sent away ... some were sent away, anyway ... that's their story, not mine.
Every morning it was a pure struggle for my Grandma Alma to sit up in bed .... that began her Hellish each day ...
It was a pure struggle for George to get up each morning ... Grandma Alma depended on him. Without him, no one was there. Without her ...
Oh my, at this very moment I have this sick, shaky sensation in the pit of my stomach thinking about their Life I witnessed as a little girl ... I know what I lived in as a child ... I saw, felt, learned watching them.
I can only imagine what it was like being adults in two bodies that betrayed them, making each day lived there a 'f______' miracle.
I have to stop writng about that now ... I see that no matter what I have been through ... I am so fortunate.
I could have given up instead of fighting to get out of a bed that wanted to keep Me there when I was dying ... keep ME there through each medical crisis I survived.
I could have chosen to be bedridden the rest of my Life, not ever fight a battle again.
Instead ... each time this powerful strength rose up in Me ... strength that I know comes from my Grandma Alma ... it was passed on to ME when I was born.
Without realizing it because I was so young ... that strength began to grow as I grew. That strength ... oh my ... has made ME keep living, fighting ... meaning to go on.
I meet things head-on ... I can't fight what I can't see. I mean to win ... I mean to live ... even if it means not going down the Easy Path of Life.
Becoming aware of this moment ... after being lost in a good way in My Writing World ...
I hear Skip snoring gently ... Mr. Kissy Fairchild just changed positions on the bed ... I feel the soft breeze from the fan ... I'm sensing all is okay in my little world.
I am sitting here on my tablet, looking at the way my words look typed out.
For some reason ... for now, I'm not taking time to find out ... I'm not sure how this will look when published.
I am writing on my old blog again at Happycolorsandgrannygee.blogspot.com ... I have to remember different things ...
I won't let this stress Me, I don't have time for it. I don't have to be perfect ... those days are long gone.
No, I won't complain ... I know things could be so much worse. I am so grateful they aren't. I'm most thankful, my Heart full to the top with gratitude.
Soon. .. November 20th will be here. Tommy's birthday. I won't get the chance to tease him about 'being an old son'.
I know we would have laughed so much as we bantered back and forward with words. Tommy had my love for words ... reading, learning, for Life, too.
Tommy was born November 20th, 1969. He died May 29, 2010. He would be 57 years old! Wow, I could have really teased him.
I miss my son. That's natural. That's what grieving mothers do.
It's the painful part of Life we don't like to think about. I have faced this grief head-on, also.
Nothing is easy in this Life ... I choose the hard paths in Life to travel if I want to live. If I hadn't, I would have died many times in my Life.
So ... that's a good thing. Fight Like Hell, when knocked to the ground ... get your ass back up, don't ever give up.
No matter how bad ... Life is good.
Happy colors in your day! ... which is supposed to have rain in it, possible tornadoes.
See the sunshine in something ... in a child's smile, a loved one's voice ... something!
Who am I to tell you that? I am the words you read at this very moment ... I am ME. I pray your Life is good, all happy colors.