I Weathered The Storm... I Was The Storm

I Weathered The Storm ... I Was The Storm
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



The pain began 'out of the blue', making me hold the washcloth to my face.  My tears became lost in the water from the shower.  I held my hand to my chest... the pain.

I stood there for several minutes, sobbing silently.  I wanted to cry forever.  I knew I couldn't... I didn't want anyone to see my eyes and 'know'.  Especially... Skip.

Everything is going to be alright... it's May... Tommy died May 29, 2010.  My brother, Rick-Rick, died May 19, 2005.

On May 19, 2009... Tommy's life changed in such a way as to affect him until he died one year later.  A man stepped in front of his tractor-trailer... he was killed.  That began the 'death' of my son...

May, 2010.... was the last time I got to be a mother... my only child died.  I became 'motherless'...

There are more things... I just don't want to remember them.  Remembering my son's death is almost more than I can bear.  I can bear it ... now.  I know everything's going to be alright ... now.

I, know there will still be times when the pain will become almost unbearable... my son, my son... my child died.  Can you imagine such a thing?

Today, I was showering... enjoying the scent of my perfumed soap.  I had my mind on what I wanted to pick up when going to town later.

A dark cloud hovered over me for several minutes... making me cry stormy tears.  I was the storm... when I finished, the sun brightened all up again.  I began smiling... everything's going to be alright.  I weathered this storm...

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P.S... I want to thank all my new followers on each of my blogs, for following me.  I'm most honored, and I treasure each of you.  You mean the world to me.

PAIN... PAIN... PAIN

Photos of Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee Back In 'Her Beautiful Days'...

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

'I CRY FOR TOMMY'... If I never make a penny from my book, I won't ever care.  You read right.  Why?  First, most important to me is the fact... my son will never be forgotten.

Tommy will never be forgotten... he was real, he was my beautiful son.  I loved him with my heart... he was close to Skip and I.  He was our world.  I will always write about him... everyone who dies, should be remembered.  They lived, experienced so much... felt so much... just to die?  To be forgotten?  There's more to life than... just 'dying'...

Because... this one book was a place I could go to ...to write, leave my pain so... I could live with myself.  It was so much that I couldn't hold it all.  I've never known pain like this in my entire life.

I kept putting 'my pain' in that book... it was 1,066 pages... I had to shorten it to 738 pages.  It was more than 1,066 pages... but, the pain not written is still inside me... it's still there.

This one book, combined with Skip and our Pups... are 'why' I'm still living.  This book... my blogs... my Facebook have made all the difference in my life... and death.  I'm still here.

People ... strangers who have become my friends whom I treasure with my heart... all this time... have made the difference in my world.  Just know that 'all of you' who have been here, and to my other blogs, Facebook mean the world to me.  (Come be my friend on Facebook.com/grannygee ... I would treasure that if you aren't, already).

I wrote my grief; my pain.  Truthfully... I would not be here today... if I hadn't written it.  I never talked in depth to anyone about my grief; I never went to a doctor about it.  I had to do it on my own... I've done this for as long as I can remember.

For the first time in my life... I am glad I lived in Hell as a child... I am glad I had to fight for survival.  Thank-you, Life... you put steel in my backbone... I'm still standing.  I am like the Redwood trees in California... I have withstood many storms.  

I'm glad I was made fun of by my schoolmates; treated mean by their mothers who were jealous of my own mother... her sisters.  I'm glad you all 'took it out on me'.  I'm glad my 'family' was mean to me... I'm glad.

I'm glad my family slapped, knocked me around because I dared to look like my father.  I'm glad when I lived at my father's home... that he would step out of the doorway if we chanced to meet, glare at me, make me go through first.

I'm glad my step-sister and half-sister blamed me for things, got me in trouble.  I'm glad my stepmother made my father feel he had to mistreat me ... with silence.  Have you ever lived in the same 'home' with 'family' who didn't ever speak to you for almost two years?

It does something to you... especially when it's your father; especially when he's afraid it'll cause World War III... especially, when he never made eye contact with you... if he did... he would look at you with pure hate.

I was always obedient; well-mannered, soft-spoken; respectful of each, every one of them.  No matter how they hurt me... I stayed that way.  I cried in silence... I spent a lot of time sitting in the bedroom, sitting on the side of the bed studying.

When I did my chores... I did them the best... nothing I did, made any difference.  I hoped ... to be loved.  It never happened; I was resented... I was my mother's daughter.

I'm glad my step-mother played her step-mother games to keep me in trouble with my father; how she hated my beautiful mother, and the very idea my father loved her through time.... I know this to be true because he sometimes 'sneaked' to see her.  He came to see me when I was in my twenties.

My step-mother kept me grounded, in trouble constantly.  She loved to tell me my father was angry at me... I never knew the difference... I was always 'grounded' in my mind.  My father was 'always' angry at me.... she 'knew' how to hurt me ... deeper.  Her eyes would have that gleam... a bright, smiling, vicious light in them.  She 'fixed my ass'... many times.  Each time, she 'paid my mother back'...

I have to tell a memory here, that really isn't a nice one.  My father and I met for lunch.  He drove almost two hours to meet me.

It's a sad memory... I disrespected my father for the first, only time in 'a nice way'... this memory always haunted me.  I am so sorry I did that; no matter all he did/ didn't for me.

It was back in my 'beautiful days'... I wore low-cut blouses, and the tightest of jeans, beautiful dresses; there wasn't much I couldn't wear... and look good.

I wasn't a defiant person; I tried to always be nice... but, that day when I sat with my father for the first time.... since I lived in his house..... all began well.  I was so nice to him... 'why, my father came to see 'me'..... How special is that?

The last time I saw him... he'd slapped me the first, only time in my life... almost knocking me to the bathroom floor.  Then... his wife, my stepmother... began slapping me in my face... blood splattered everywhere in that spotless bathroom.

I remember the contrast... blood on white... I grew up seeing so much blood... in Hell.  I never expected to see it... nor my own blood... at my own father's home.

Anyway... we sat there.  I could tell my father thought he had a beautiful daughter.  I even sensed pride... everyone was watching us.

For one time... my father smiled at me freely.  I think he liked me... for a few minutes he might have been glad I was his oldest daughter... that one time in his life, my life.

I was twenty-eight years old... we had that one 'close moment' for ... a few moments.  Then... it was gone; it never happened again in our life.

I felt proud... I knew I was so pretty... how could my father not be proud? When I walked into any place of business, any store, and room... people stopped talking, began to stare.  I always acted as nice... as I looked.

He noticed that... in the restaurant we were in... people knew who I was... but, they didn't know who 'he' was.  We sat there, talking light talk when he asked me if I would button my top button on my blouse...  I remember looking at him... giving him a polite little smile... looked into his eyes, said 'no'.

We went on with our conversation.  Truthfully, I wanted to button my top button... after all, I was with my father.  But... I couldn't do it because 'he asked me to'.  For one time in my life... I could stand up to him, and say 'no'.  It was a battle I 'won'.... but, it never felt good to win it.  It always haunted me through the years.  I feel bad about it... this very moment.

No matter how he was to me through the years... I didn't feel good about that.  I saw disappointment in his eyes, but... he went on with the conversation, never mentioning it again.

Love, hate... love, hate... I loved my father; I hated my father... now, I don't ... feel anything. I don't hold anything against him... nor the stepmother I had.  No feelings... at all.  The End...

Pain from 'best friends' who were jealous of my 'looks'; one in particular who tried to turn my mother against me.  She told me.  We'd all meet in a restaurant often... I'd be late sometimes.

I would cause a stir when I came in... always quietly, proudly... with my head high.  I always was a lady... back in those days... a 'beautiful lady'... women hated me just as they did my mother in 'her beautiful days'... men loved me, just as they did her... only... I never went with them.

Men would smile at me.  The strange thing about me as a 'beautiful person/woman' was... I had respect for all wives... I would smile at them first.  I never flirted with their husbands.  I should have... they never gave me that respect through time.  I had respect for girlfriends, also.  

Sometimes... their husbands would ask me out... those women never knew how much I cared... I wouldn't go with a married man.  One time a married man fooled me... I'll never forget when his wife and I talked... her eyes.

She understood that I honestly didn't know; would never do that to another woman.  Through the years, that has haunted me... though she forgave.  I'm sorry I didn't know.  I caused pain, never meaning to... never wanting to.

Why, you ask?  Because... it happened to me as a too-young, inexperienced girl who ran away to get married.  I 'knew how it felt' to be cheated on.  I lived with it for years.  I'm glad now... that was more pain I suffered for years.  Combined with all the bad things that happened through time in my life... it strengthened me.  God knows I needed it, and more... when my only child died.

If Skip, our Pups hadn't been in my life... I don't mind anyone knowing this... I would have died from an overdose of that powerful, potent medicine the doctor gave me.  I... almost did.

Skip intervened...  I had went too far in my grief, pain... to know anything.  I was past thinking; I was past living; I was in the darkest of worlds.  I didn't know my way out... I didn't have any desire left to live.  I forgot about life.  I didn't know... or was even aware of 'me'... anymore.  I was... gone.

Only at times, could I ever hear Skip's voice... or feel a Pup's tongue lick my hand, my face.  It was just like... when I almost died when I became deathly ill with non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

A person goes past a point... they don't 'know life is there' anymore... they aren't aware they are ... just before dying.  I've been there several times in my life... I 'know'.

I can only describe it in the words I just typed.  I still can't tell you... it's more than my words.  I can say this truthfully... this is when a person such as me who dearly loves life... can die, not be afraid of death.

You don't know death is reaching out to take you ... in some small way, you 'are there'... but, I wonder 'how'?  You can still smell, sometimes hear, 'know' what's going on around you... sometimes.

I'm glad my father slapped me that one time ... slapped how much he hated me through the years... nearly knocking me down... thank-you, half-sister.  I'm glad for so many bad things that happened to me when I tried so hard to grow up; learning everything the hard way.  I forgave everything... many years ago.  I don't hate my 'enemies'... now.

No one was there to tell me a lot... if, when someone did, I'd appreciate it so much.  I made many, many, many mistakes.  It's a wonder I don't sit in a prison somewhere... from the horrible anger, hate I harbored the first part of my life; from the types of people as a young woman, I came in contact with.

I could have went on to be a 'Bonnie and Clyde' sort of girl.  I hated women... it's a wonder I didn't ...  I like women now; sort of... I have very few women 'friends'...  I grew up with all women figures who taught me anger, hate... inflicted pain on me.  Being the best kind of enemy in the disguise of 'best friend'.

Keep hurting a puppy that's backed up in a corner... one day it'll reach its breaking point... I never took any ____ off a woman.  And... if it ever appeared that I did........ give it time, watch.  I try to be nice, give benefit of the doubt, go that 'extra' mile... three times is my limit in most anything.  Then...

Yesterday made three years since Tommy died.  I could say 'passed away'... but, it doesn't work with me.  I have to 'face things head-on'... in order to cope, deal with them.  Tommy died... three years ago on May 29, 2010 on a late Saturday evening.  Tommy... died.  Now... face it, Gloria... your son died.  It still hurts... so bad.

I won't let things be 'sugar-coated'... I want all the pain to hurt me until... it can't hurt anymore.  That's what... I want.  The more I meet it head-on; knocks me to the ground...  I keep getting up... the stronger I become.  The less power it has over me to give me ... more pain.

Truthfully, I couldn't do that with Tommy's death... it was many, many months before I could meet it head-on.  I fell to the ground when he died... I had to have help in getting back up, coming back to Life... to live.  I could not have... done it by myself ...'that time'.

My child's death was more than I could bear.  I couldn't cope with it.  I hid for the first time in my life in a fog of medication that even now... I don't know the name of.   I don't take drugs, drink alcohol, smoke... but, I took that medicine.  It doesn't matter what the name of it was now... it protected me.

Only... when it came time to 'face all head-on'... I had to start all over... the pain; oh my God... the pain.  There needs to be another word for that 'kind of pain'... the very word 'pain' doesn't do it justice.

When Skip and our Pups wouldn't let me be... they kept on, and on... trying to get me to 'come back'... I began trying to 'come back'.  I'd been in darkness so long... the light was almost unbearable.

The pain... oh, my God.  How can I describe such pain to you?  I can't... you have to know it, feel this kind of pain to ever know what it is like.  You have to have your own child die.... die, to feel and know the journey I've been on.

I pray with my heart you never experience your ... child's death.  Parents are supposed to outlive their children.  I can only tell you to sit for a few minutes, look at your precious child (especially if it is the only child you have)... sit there, make yourself feel how it feels 'to even think of losing him/her'.

Can you see what I mean?  You can't do it.  Why?  Because you begin panicking inside, feel scared; you have to quit thinking like that because... you become afraid 'something could happen to him/her'... if you think about it very long.

Pain... pain... pain, and more pain.  I've known many kinds of pain through 'my time'.  There are things no one can ever know that caused me pain... there are many things I'll write about.

This is 'why' I don't like to cause pain in someone else's life... 'when you know how bad pain hurts... you don't want to inflict it on others'.  You don't even want to wish it on others... because it will come back to bite you in the ass... I know.  :)))

I have family who have experienced so much grief, pain in their lives... in the same way, in different ways.  I can only say this from my heart... I will never be a family member to cause pain, grief... even if you don't like me... or, I don't like you.  Respect...just 'pure' caring; a good heart.

I know how it feels... not only that... I'm old enough now, to know it does 'for-real' come back to one.  One has to be careful what they wish for... sometimes, it backfires.  I know that, too.

Pain... PAIN...  no, I can't even think of anything to describe pain anymore; I only know one way to even touch how big, bad it is... that's just to write the word larger....  PAIN.  PAIN.  PAIN...

 P.S.  The photos above are from 'my beautiful days'... my family had very beautiful women... I grew up to be, also... back then.  Today, when I see 'family'... I see that most of the girls, women... are just as beautiful. What amazes me is... how we all loved to 'pose', be 'sexy, beautiful' all through the years... generation after generation... I've seen it in my photos, their photos... our mothers' photos.  I think it was taught to us... we felt it inside... we each, was 'most beautiful'....

Now... it's all I can do to look at least... nice.  :)))  Now... I just continuously 'chase myself in the mirrors' (you have to read back in my blog to understand if you are new)... just to 'get a glimpse of me'... I try to 'photograph me'... when I find 'me'... capture myself in a photograph.  It's rare now... when I do.  I've been through so much in life, combined with trying hard to grow older gracefully... I'm lucky 'I see this much of me'... I'm not complaining.  I'm thankful.

Life isn't all about being sexy, most beautiful... though, when we are younger... it seems it is.  I'm at the age now, that I know ... appreciate my Life's lessons.  I know what it's about now.  I look back at my younger days... I am proud that I was pretty; I'm proud of my photos.  I'm glad I was one of the 'beautiful women' at one time... I used to want to be as beautiful as my mother was, when I was little.  I never knew I could be.  I was made to feel worthless as a little child...  These photos....  all survived a fire in an old suitcase.... amazing.  I'm thankful I had them to 'show you'... as I wrote my story.

In my 'Gloria Opinion'... the secret to life is simply caring, loving... being good as possible.  I could have been just as bad, as I try to be just as good.  Good is best... it's peace of mind.  Loving, not hating... feels best.  When younger... I hated with a white-hot fire burning in me from the time I could remember... the anger I carried in my heart was deep... then.

Thankfully... through time, I don't harbor those feelings... but, I meet some people now.... if they mistreat someone I love... I can 'feel the old hate, anger' try to come back. I told you... I'm not perfect.  That's why I'm writing my scary books with my main character... Victoria Fairchild.  She does things sometimes, we wish we had heroes to do for us... that's to teach some people a lesson they won't forget... an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth...

Update on book two:  The Saga Of Victoria Fairchild  (Book one is an introductory to Victoria Fairchild.... When She's Good... She's Good)..............  Victoria has entered her homeless world once more to find the serial killer.  Her cousin, Lind Lou, has left for business elsewhere.  Caroline, Stevie are living the life of luxury now, after almost dying from the serial killer's attack on both of them.

Victoria's friends, Buckaroo and Kenneth, are helping her.  They stay in the background watching her... as she meanders through the homeless world she loves, wants to protect.  She means to find the serial killer, knows now... only one can walk out.

This Grieving Mother... It's Been Three Years Now

My son, Tommy.  He died May 29, 2010... Memorial Day Weekend



This Grieving Mother... It's Been Three Years Now
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



This is 'the' weekend...

The weekend... Memorial Day holiday weekend... 'the weekend Tommy died'...

May 29th,2010... three years ago was on a Saturday... the day Tommy died.  Tommy died on a Saturday evening... Memorial Day holiday weekend.  No one knew he had two blockages in his heart... he was only 40 years old.

He died at Myrtle Beach; he was running, playing with his three year old son on the sand.  They were laughing, squealing... happy sounds blended with the songs of the seagulls flying overhead.

Tommy was sending me photos, video over his cellphone to my computer.  His finger slipped off the key... Tommy collapsed onto the sand he played on with his little son.

Strangers were watching them play, laugh.  They thought it beautiful to see the big guy run, play with the little guy.  They were distracted for several moments; turned back to see the big guy collapsed on the sand.  They ran to help...

One of them picked Tommy's cellphone up from the sand, pressed the call button.  The phone rang two hundred miles away... a happy, relieved mother answered the house phone.  She was smiling...

Smiling, because less than an hour before... her son had called her to say they had made it through the holiday traffic safely to their destination.  His mother had been saying prayers for him and his family's safety.

She looked down at the caller ID, saw his cellphone number, his name.  She happily answered the phone; he said he'd call her back in a little while...

The mother waited to hear her son's happy voice... became confused when another male voice spoke.  She held the phone out to look at the caller ID again... yes, it was Tommy's phone.

She heard the man say something that couldn't possibly be; she asked him why did he have her son's cellphone?  The man wanted to tell her something... she didn't realize it, but... her smile slipped away.

What did you say, she asked.  She could hear... but, couldn't understand.  Why do you have my son's cellphone, she asked.  She made herself be quiet, listen...

"Ma'am, I have a man collapsed here on the sand!  He isn't breathing!"  The mother began to understand what was being said to her... though, she still 'didn't understand'...

She asked the stranger if there was a little three-year old, blonde-headed boy with the man collapsed on the ground?  "Yes, he is here".

There was no doubt this was her son who had collapsed onto the sand... Oh, my God!  He isn't breathing!  He isn't breathing!

"Skip! Skip, please help me!  Help me, Skip!"  As Skip took the phone from this mother's hands... I began going into darkness; shock.

Tommy!  Tommy!  Tommy!  You said you were going to call me back!  Tommy!  Tommy!  Help me, oh God... please help me!  Please don't let Tommy be dead.  Oh, my God, he said Tommy isn't breathing!

Soon after that phone call, I begged Skip to help me, to please take me to the hospital, let them drug me.  I can not cope with this!  I'm not supposed to hear that my son has died... is this how it feels?  Is it a dream; can it possibly be true?

For the first time in my life ... I begged for drugs to numb me, to put me into another place so, I wouldn't think, know anything.

This was someone who never wanted to be addicted to drugs.  This was someone who never knew she'd know in her lifetime that her child... her only child... had died.  Parents don't outlive their children...

I lived my life in darkness, in and out... for the following two years.  I just couldn't bear to know my son had died.  The panic attacks, the knowledge that I wouldn't hear Tommy's voice again.  I wouldn't hear his laugh again.

I wouldn't see him walk, move around; see his sunshine smile, the twinkle in his blue eyes ever again.  I couldn't live with that knowledge.  Tommy was a most important part of my very world.  I can barely stand to think 'beneath the surface' about him being gone.

I find myself crying... something I haven't done for a time now.  I've been keeping a thick, mental blanket over my grief.  I knew it would hurt too bad to let it slip off... slip off, it has.  It hurts so bad.

Today, someone mentioned to me about Tommy 'going to a better place; he's better off now'...  I politely smiled at the woman... and wished her to go to 'hell'.  Tommy's not in a better place, and he certainly isn't better off now.  Who 'was she' to tell me that?

I know I sound ugly saying that... but, it's ugly for someone to tell a grieving mother such a thing.  That's an awful thing to come out of someone's mouth... have they heard that so much, that they don't 'know how they sound' when saying those words?  Let their child die, and see how it feels when someone dares say that to them.

Hey, sweetie, you know your child is in a better place... and he's better off ... there!  It's good that your child is dead; that's where he needs to be!  You may as well say that ... if you dare to say such a thing to a grieving mother.  It's a good thing that I am a quiet, private, grieving mother... that woman might be bald-headed tonight, with a bad headache.

I say to those people who think such... Tommy wanted to live just as much as you do... he wanted to be better off here in this world... just like you do.  If you want to die so much to get to your heaven... die, go on there.  You talk about it... you can't wait to get there.

Tommy wasn't ready to go... yet.  Even I am not ready to go... yet.  I'm not in a hurry.  If you are... shut up telling everyone else it's a better place to go, and you can't wait to get there... just you go on.  I hope you have a good life... excuse me, a 'good death'.

You, who read my words, will always think before you say that again... you'll realize just what you are saying... and know... it's not true.  It's not true, at all.

You are telling that mother she ought to be glad her child is dead... that her heart should fill with instant happiness because he is 'somewhere' wonderful, happy.  It's isn't so.

Just remember the things you say to others... 'when and if such happens to you' (and they will; it's only a matter of time)... that mother is going to be watching 'you'... to see if you still feel the same way.

I have several people I will pay close attention to... I don't know if I could even say such a thing to them 'just for payback'.  I have too much compassion for people; even for people I don't like, nor have any use for.

This is one such thing that contributes to the anger that builds up inside a grieving mother... this grieving mother.  The dumb things that people let come from their mouths.

I bite my tongue, look at 'who' says such.  I remember them.  I know things have a way of coming back to bite one in the ass... be careful what you say... you might get to see how it feels.  Through time, I have learned... I've been bitten a lot, so... I know.

I believe in God; I believe in the wonderful 'thereafter'... I honestly don't think anyone is most eager to leave here, to go there... that quickly.  We all have loved ones we don't want to leave any sooner than we have to... they don't want to leave us any sooner than they have to.

Look at your little child.... your adult child... can you possibly say to them that you'll be glad for them to go on and be in that better place right now?  Do you want to 'let go of them right now'?  Think about it.  Do you want little Johnny to die 'now'... or little Susie to 'go to a better place than here where you are'... right now?

Three years later... I still feel such deep pain, grief.  I still cry, though not in front of others.  My grief is mine; it's private.  You never have to worry about me breaking down in front of you, making you feel uncomfortable.  I will do it ... alone.  I will write about it... here.

You can come here to find out what goes on in this grieving mother's mind; her thoughts... as time go by.  Read quietly, leave quietly... you don't have to feel uncomfortable.  See how it feels, read the real thoughts, feelings of a grieving mother.  I don't sugar-coat it... I tell you exactly how I feel.

This weekend, I feel deep sadness... and after the woman told me that my child was in 'a better place'... I felt deep anger.  I feel anger that Tommy's gone, I feel such pain that it takes all my strength to hold it up on my shoulders... I will carry this for the rest of my life.  No one can help me with this burden... no one.  I have to carry it all by myself.

I want to cry, go to the bedroom... pull the curtains, make it dark.  I want to hide myself from everything... my head hurts from the thoughts inside... I can't bear it.

But, this grieving mother won't do any of that.  I won't even say anything mean to someone if they say something dumb to me about Tommy being in a 'better place'.  I'll just pretend not to notice... I'll carry my own burden of grief in silence... no one will even know.  To know about it... one would have to know to 'come here, read here', about it.

I'll leave quietly myself, now.  I just told you truthfully how this grieving mother felt/feels this weekend.  When you come here, read quietly; leave... I hope you have all your loved ones around you; I hope you aren't missing someone special; I pray that no one close to you has died.

It's the worst feeling in the world... more pain than one could possibly imagine... especially when it's your child.  If your child has died, just know that this grieving mother knows what you go through; know that she cares with her very heart.  Love, Granny Gee

'I Fought Like Hell To Survive'...

'I Fought Like Hell To Survive'...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



Dance!  Dance!  My cousin yelled at me to dance.  I was bound and determined not to!

"I'm not going to dance... you can't make me!"  He grinned, said..."Oh, you are going to dance"!  We stood there in the back yard of Grandma Alma, George's home.  I looked at him with anger; he glared back at me with that evil grin.  He was mad at me.

I knew I wasn't going to dance.  Further more... I couldn't figure out how he could make me!

He stood there... there was no way he, by himself... was going to make me do anything.  We were always feuding.  Once, I beat him up when he came up to me... reached out, jerked down on my earring.  Oh my God... the pain!!  He ripped my ear lobe...

I had just gotten my ears pierced.  What he didn't know was... neither did anyone else... when pain was inflicted on me... 'all hell was going to break wide open'.  I whipped his a__ before he knew it!  I didn't remember doing it.

We were kids full of 'spit and fire'... it didn't take much to make us fight.  Our role models were there right in front of us... teaching us everyday.

This was payback, I was sure.  "Dance, I said"!  He yelled at me, saying if I didn't, he had a way of making me dance.  He was holding his BB gun; he began raising it!  I felt a thrill go through me... he was going to shoot my a___!  I began running.

I was trying to run fast enough to get into the back door at Grandma Alma's when I felt the first pain on the back of my thigh!  It hurt like a....  "Ouch!  That hurt"!

Tears filled my eyes... I turned around briefly ... he had it raised to shoot again!  "Dance"!  The h___ with him, I'm running into the house!  Damn!  That hurt!  The b_____ shot me again in the back of my legs!

Damn!  I felt pain from shot after shot... I began dancing in pain!  I was screaming, crying.  I was going to kill him!  I made it to Grandma Alma's screen door, got myself inside.  He was laughing at me, saying ..."See, I told you I'd make you dance:!!!

That was one time I wanted to beat him up... but, the pain of the BB's hitting me in the back of my legs, prevented me from getting him.

Later, I had big, round welts on the back of my legs.  I suffered... each one had a hole in it.  When I sat down, the pain was excruciating.  That's how we kids played down at Grandma Alma, and George's.  Someone was always getting injured... we were all 'mean kids'... we had to be, to survive.  It's a wonder he didn't hit me in the eye, or worse.

Pain... always pain from something, when living there.  Pain made me feel anger.  I was always angry when I went to live there.  I was in Hell; I didn't have a choice.  Someone was always striking out at me in anger... I'd fight back.  I learned how to fight to survive... 'I fought like hell to survive'...

Let's Have A Damn-Happy Good Time!

Let's Have A Damn-Happy Good Time!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I watched him without him being aware that I was.  He took another drink from a bottle hidden inside a brown bag.  Oh, how good it must have tasted.  I don't drink; but, watching him made me want some!

He closed his eyes, twisted his mouth up in pure pleasure as he swallowed that golden liquid.  He smacked those big, full lips of his... flicked that tongue out to get any flavor whatsoever, left on his lips.  His tongue pressed hard, as he tried to get it all.

His lips flattened against his mouth... as he sucked them.  He even made a little 'popping' sound.  That big old hand reached up to wipe his mouth off.  There was no chance of leaving even a drop of precious liquid behind!

I watched as I appeared not to be watching... my head was low; I was peeping under my brows... like a fox underneath a log.  If he glanced my way, my eyes were busy reading my book.  My face was reflecting how absorbed I had become in my book.  Nope... she isn't paying me any mind as I get ready to have a... damn-happy good time!

It's party-time!  I want to dance, have fun; get something fun on the side!  Never mind I'm married... I've got to have fun!  I've got to have something to talk about when I go back to work on Tuesday.  I'm damn-well going to have the best time; all my buddies are going to envy me.  I'm going to PAR--TY!!!

He began to smile as that familiar warmth spread through his body.  He wiggled it, to make sure no obstacles were in the way... he wanted it to hurry up, get to his head; to his mind.  He wanted to feel goo--ooooood... this is how he 'parties'.... being so damn high; it feels so good!  This is what holidays are all about to him....

It hit him.  She watched as he smiled an idiotic grin, his eyes becoming crossed.  The fool was getting drunk right in front of her!  She knew what he was going to do next...

Sure enough, he walked over to her, grinning.  "Hey, you want to par-ty?  You want to have a happy-damn good time'  Come on, let's have a happy-damn good time'!!!

'Yeah, It's One Of Those Things; Things Like That Happen

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee...  I tilt my head to my right shoulder, listening... watching, studying... life; everything that is life; everything around me.  I wonder, I think, I feel, care, love; even hate, dislike......... I grieve, no matter what I do; no matter how happy, sad.  I go on with life knowing my son, my only child is gone... forever.  Not only do I grieve for myself... my heart is big enough to grieve for the pain of others... I grieve for you, too.

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'Yeah, It's One Of Those Things;   Things Like That Happen
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



The little boy sat quietly by his mother.  She sat beside him in relief... relief that her son was alive.  She had relaxed enough so, that she could drink her bottle of water.

I watched as a woman walked up to the two; she reached down, drew the little boy to her huge bosom.  Tears streamed from her eyes as she held the child.  She let go of him, reached for the boy's mother; began hugging her tightly.  I never knew the relationship between them... maybe she was a grandparent, teacher... ?

What drew my attention, as I sat with tears streaming down my own face, was.... the little boy.  I always look where no one else is looking... I notice things other people don't.  So... I got to see this little boy being 'normal'... after what he'd just survived.  I smiled at the same time as my heart cried for them.

The little boy looked up at the tv camera, went back to his little boy world... took his little hand, began to wipe first his right cheek where the lady had placed her wet kisses.

He went on to wipe the other cheek;  then, he began wiping his whole face all at once to get rid of the 'wet'.... As I cried inside, I laughed at the same time.

It was beautiful; bittersweet... the little boy was being a little boy after surviving a massive EF 4 tornado that hit his school. He was on the news... he didn't notice; he was just a little boy.

Yesterday, a massive EF4 tornado with winds from 166-200 miles, struck Moore, Oklahoma.  Moore is located near I-35 South... you can drive through Oklahoma City on I-40; drop down on 35, be in Moore in just minutes.

I know someone who was traveling through Oklahoma City, Oklahoma just less than a hour before the tornado struck.  I noticed while we talked on our cellphones... he kept mentioning the sky.  The sky looks bad; it looks like a tornado.  I felt ... alarm.

He was aware while he was driving in Oklahoma... (yesterday)... that another tornado could strike at any time.  Not only that, he had just driven through Shawnee, Oklahoma where a tornado had struck the day before!  He described to me on the cellphone what he was seeing as he drove through.

He saw big houses torn to shreds; trees split apart.  Cars, pickups were overturned in people's yards... their homes destroyed.  Everything tossed... mangled.  I wonder 'why'?

I'm told I have no right to ... question 'why'?  If I want to wonder 'why'... I will.  I realize that I won't know the answer to 'why'... no more than I'll know the answer as to 'why' my only child, my son... Tommy, collapsed at the beach while playing with my grandson... to die.

'Why'?  Oh... don't tell me I don't have the right to question... I don't feel you have the right to say that to me.  I turn my back on you...  I can ask while at the same time... know that my question can't be answered.  I'm intelligent enough to know that.

You, or nobody else, even the smartest person in the world can... tell me 'why'.  All 'you can say is what you think; what you've been taught to believe'.  You don't know 'why'... I have my own beliefs just as you do.  I don't think yours are better than mine... or mine better than yours.  Do you know what I honestly think?

I think that as long as we 'believe' in a good way, and our hearts feel it's right... I think that most important.  More important than not believing at all.

As long as good things stem from our beliefs, make good things happen for ourselves, others... life is good.  Love, caring for each other.  Don't even argue with me... that's my belief... I'm sticking to it.  I don't have to defend, nor debate my beliefs.  I respect yours... you will respect mine.

Shawnee, Oklahoma is only 40 miles from Moore, Oklahoma.  He spent the night in the western part of Tennessee last night.  He woke up to a storm early this morning.  He got up, began driving to be in North Carolina, tonight.

I am watching the news on tv... in 10 minutes they will begin showing more in detail what has happened.  What I see touches the very core of my heart... my soul.

What bothers me is when you tell someone about such... out of their dumb-ass mouths are these words:  'yeah, things like that happen; it's one of those things'.  How callous people have become 'today'... no feelings left for anyone other than their own lives.

They can't see any further than as far as their hands can reach.... dense-minded.  Uncaring, unfeeling.... but... if you want to see them go into action... let something happen to one of their children; or to their life.

You will see screaming, gnashing of teeth... crying, whining, b___.... you'd better listen to 'them'.   Only if something dared to 'touch their lives'... would they care.  They only care about themselves... I 'watch when it happens to them'....

I pay attention to their reactions.  I am holding my head over to the side... watching through puzzled eyes, studying.... to see how such a person will react.  I want to know one thing.... 'when it happens to 'them'... is it really... just one of those things; things like that happen', to them?

I say what I think a lot of times; I say what I see, feel or think.  I don't think people like it 'every time' I do it.  I don't mean to hurt... I just wonder aloud; or .... if a person has mistreated me in the past... and the next time is nice to me, trying to impress someone else... I 'call them on it'... I don't play games... yet, I just lied... I have to play the game of life.... just like we all have to.

We can't be 100%... honest.  Don't you agree?  Would you be lying... if you said you never told a lie?  We all know... we all have to lie at times in our life... you know, those 'little, white lies'.  It's uncomfortable to think about it, I know.  I feel the same way.  

I realize some people have the world by the tail; have all the money, material things they could desire... they aren't going to care about anything other... than themselves.

They are going to b____, cry, whine about 'how hard life is; how much they have to go through'. They have everything to make their life happy... but, they've screwed it up by getting an addiction... how can life be good anymore?  'I reckon it would make you whine, cry, b_____; moan, groan how bad your life is'.

I think their problem is that they feel bad all the time; their health has changed from all the bad things they've done to their body 'in the name of seeking happiness, pleasure'.  I know I could be wrong... we 'know' those things don't hurt people... it's got to be something else.

They become bored with having everything; quit appreciating all they have... become alcohol, drug, sex, smoke-addicted... among other things.  When they go too far with that; they become bored again... they have no where to go, have anything to do anymore for entertainment.

It makes one think they will to do 'something crazy'.... next.  Something that make them feel again... get the adrenaline flowing; God, to see what 'feeling good feels like'... again.

They've got everything in the world... only they can't feel, love, care any more.  They have numbed themselves... and can easily say when something 'bad' happens to others.... 'yeah, it's just one of those things; things like that happen'.

Think of all the lives.... the people they come in contact with during that time... God, think of the feelings they've hurt, stepped on because 'they didn't feel good'... they are 'too washed out'; they can't be bothered by other 'mere people'.

In their minds, maybe they've 'become God'..... so, they strike out with their own unhappiness, their own unwell feelings; they make anyone who comes in contact with them... unhappy, devastated from their nasty words, their uncaring.  

They begin to thrive on their power to ... create storms in others' lives... 'Watch this!"  That can bring a little grin to their faces!  How do I know?  I've seen this all my life.... and.... more.  You wouldn't believe... but, I know you do.  You've either done it... watched it happen to others; or have been a victim.

What's so bad is... when these people are in management of a company; when they are a 'boss' over people.  Maybe it's the dominant spouse in a marriage; the one everyone has to listen to... to obey.  You know... the 'head of household' person.

People 'under them' are in a position always... to 'be knocked down' when that person doesn't feel good; or his family life is awful.  So, they just go 'screw up Billy-Bob's life by talking harsh to him; make his job/life hard for him'... when Billy Bob's life is already hell.

Maybe Billy Bob has had a heart attack; his wife committed adultery; maybe his child just died.  Maybe Billy-Bob's health is bad, he is trying to make a living for his own family the best way he knows how... and has to 'eat ___' along the way, to survive.

A family sometimes, never knows what a man goes through to feed their hungry mouths, to dress their spoiled asses; make them look good so, other people will 'think they are somebody'.   You know... make it possible for them to 'keep up with the Jones'... 'dress to impress'.

The man suffers so, that a family can live, eat good.  They never know the grief he goes through.  Or... the mistreatment another man does to him... he has to swallow his pride, keep from whipping that man's a___... so, he can keep his job.

His boss says, 'yeah, I know how it feels... it's just one of those things'.  How in the ____ does 'he know how it feels'?  He has never suffered the loss of anything in his life; he doesn't know how it is for the average man to struggle not for himself... but, for others; his family.

What's so bad is... when half the family doesn't deserve all he goes through.  The wife is dressing in beautiful clothes on his hard-earned money to go sneak out to do things she shouldn't; his kids are taking advantage... never giving that poor man a second thought.  They all are focusing on 'pleasure; what makes them feel good'.  The father is thinking all along what he's going to do, to make his family's life better.

Sometimes, when I write... I let my mind absorb other things as they happen... and incorporate it into my stories.  This began solely about the tornado, and its victims.  All I can say... that's 'me'... when I'm writing for my blog.

Since then, I heard some very callous remarks made about the victims of the Moore, Oklahoma.  It angered me to know, see how uncaring, unfeeling, cold another person can be... they can't even imagine.  Their minds 'are too thick'.... you can't get through to them.

I would love for Victoria Fairchild to step up... shake up some of these people's lives.   (She is my main character in my ongoing series... update:  I'm in process of writing book two... The Saga Of Victoria Fairchild).

We all wish for characters like Victoria Fairchild... she will step where even the devil is afraid to step.  She would deal an eye for an eye... a tooth for a tooth.  She would make sure someone learned a lesson or two in their life... 'if' they didn't, then.... she'd simply do what she had to do; do what it'd take... to make things alright for the victims.  No matter what............................

Don't we all wish for someone like her... to take up for, defend all the weaker people, animals in this world?  Characters like this would 'do anything it took'... to make the world good.  That's why I always say... we need bad in the world just as well, as good.

This is strictly a 'Gloria opinion'... and I have lots of them; I hold my ground on each unless... you can show me differently.  I'm very open-minded.  You think what you want to... I'm not going to try to change your minds... I respect you.

Not only that... I always hope you are open-minded to learn... just as I am.  I'm not so, opinionated, that I can't ... budge.  I'm not so 'feet planted firmly on the ground', that I can't move.  I'm not going to let pride ever stand in my way again... make someone think 'I know everything'... so, that I don't learn new things.  Teach me!  I will listen; just don't 'push your beliefs on me'........

Teach me in a kind, good way... I don't respond well to negative people.  Nor... do I listen to them at all.  I don't have the patience to waste my time... you and I aren't going to 'see eye to eye'... so, go your way, and I'll go mine.  I won't waste your time either.

See, life taught me this.  It taught me so, much from seeing things, hearing things, knowing things from a child up... to be like this.  Things people protect little children from... things a young person should never know, even be aware of... things we've learned as we become older... that we can't change, hurt us.  Life is like this.... you know it is.

What is that old saying?  I'm always good for getting old sayings 'backwards' (maybe I try to change them to be 'my' way :))).  Let's see, I think it is something like this:  Lord, please help me to accept the things I can't change.  I am grinning... I'm wondering if I said it right or not... I'm thinking to myself... there are some things I don't/wont accept... but, pretend to.... always looking for a way to change them... all in a quiet way.

To be 'Gloria'.... you either like me, or you don't like me... or sit on the fence post all your life... doing both, changing your mind constantly; trying to decide.  Or... you go on, live your own life, ignore me... and I do the same... ignore 'you'.  You never know I'm there; I am a quiet person... private.  I mind my own business; you won't mind my business.  Life is like this... you know it is.

Oh, to be 'you'... same thing.  I think just like you.  I either like you, don't like you... or am in a constant state of liking you one minute, disliking you the next... or, never knowing if I like you.  You don't have anything on me.  Life is like this, too... you know it is.  :)))

I say don't waste time... I'm nobody but, me.  I care, love, feel for people... animals.  I live real life; I know what it is to struggle... I've known how it feels to be 'rich'... been there, done that... oh, I wish I was again!  :)))  Maybe 'one day'.... we all never give up hope, no matter what.  That means 'you', too.  Anything 'really is possible'... you know I'm right.

The elderly woman stood there, speaking to the reporter.  I watched her eyes... they were seeing something we could only guess at.  She was speaking about her experience surviving the tornado.

She said that through the years, it was known what to do 'if' a tornado was coming.  That was to go to her bathroom... she did.  The elderly woman, and her dog went into the bathroom... where she sat on the stool hugging her dog.

The tornado hit, the stool began to move; she was falling all around.  She said, "I never lost consciousness".  When all became still... her dog was no longer in her arms.  I saw grief in her eyes of shock at what she'd just come through... my heart twisted in my chest.  Tears filled my eyes, obscuring my vision.

The words she said next, twisted my heart a little more; I just closed my eyes, I couldn't see anyway.  This grieving mother felt pain for her... she turned toward the rubble of her home, said.... 'he's in there, somewhere'.  Her dog was... dead.  His body lay somewhere in that pile of... her home.

Her eyes... her eyes.  My shoulders shook as I cried for her; her little dog was gone.  I don't know this... but, it could have been all the family she had left.  If it were me... I only have my husband, and our Pups left in this world.

I sat here, imagining her feelings 'right this moment'... oh God, the pain I felt.  I already know how it feels to lose my only child; I know how it feels to lose at least (I quit counting) 19 loved ones... the very family I loved most in my whole life... they are... gone).

I've lost everything several times in my life; the last being a house fire that took all our belongings.  I've suffered many 'bad' things in my life... I know a lot about 'bad things happening'.  Don't feel sympathy, sorrow for me... I'm very strong now.  I'm like the redwood trees that stand battered, beaten from past storms.  I lift my limbs up to the sky to embrace the sunshine... life.  I love life!  

I know how it feels to lose my beloved dogs;  even cats... I'm not a cat-lover but, I watched through time the feral cats I came to know, love, feed... die.  You wouldn't believe the pain I felt... they each had become a part of my life.  When I love an animal, person with my heart... I truly love with my... very heart.  If I love 'you'... there's never any doubt in your mind that, I do.  If I don't.... well, that's another story..... :)))

I've known grief, lived grief for so long... I think it's a part of 'me'... I know it only too well.  Okay... okay... I hear 'you saying'.... "yeah,its just one of those things that happens; things like that happen".  Guess what?

You don't even know what's happened in my life to make me grieve... you won't say that to me... and get by with it. I don't discuss it 'in person' with anyone... anyway.  I'm not going to push my feelings, life ....on you.  Never have, never will at this late day, time.

My private life is .... mine... I don't share it with anyone.  I do talk about everything else.... here.  Sometimes, I do write private things from my life.... but, don't try to 'talk' to me about them.

I'll say this... when you lose your child; it's a grief unlike any other.  It was almost 'the end' of me...

The elderly woman stood there as the reporter spoke to her; asked her questions in a caring voice.  Her eyes.... I heard excited voices!  Something was moving, making some of the rubble move... "Bowsy!"

The woman began calling her dog by his name, as people lifted pieces of debris off him.  He began struggling to get out.  The elderly woman was going toward him, calling his name; her hands reaching out for him.  Her precious dog was... alive!  Now... did you feel how wonderful that was... to learn her dog was alive?

My heart didn't twist watching that drama unfold... it 'flip-flopped' in happiness.  I was glad no one could see me... I cried tears of happiness for that elderly woman.  No matter that she didn't have anything else in this world... she had her dog.  Dog-lovers... are like that.

To you, and I... we know how much it means for good things to come from bad things.  We are happy when we see good things happen.  We wish for good things to happen to us, everyone.  I told you above about 'those people' who just say ...'yeah, it's one of those things; things like that happen'.  They wish only for good things to happen 'in their lives'.

They wouldn't care... unless it affected 'their life, their loved ones'.  You think like me... they wouldn't... but, they'd 'scream like little girls'... if their child died; their pet died; their spouse died; their parent, sibling, loved one... died.

'You'..... would be the 'cold, uncaring person'.... if 'you' didn't feel for them; never mind them telling you when tragedy strikes in your life... 'yeah, it's one of those things; things like that happen'.

Oh... the person traveling through Oklahoma was... Skip!  Only people who wish good things for others would care about this.

I know that people who would say, 'yeah, it's one of those things that happen; things like that happen'.... wouldn't have cared.

Death... Shock and Everything Between... Until Tommy Died, I Didn't Know It Hurt This Much

This is all I have of Rick-Rick... his ashes are in this beautiful chest... Rick-Rick's Chest.  It sits beside our Mother's Rose Chest, in my happy art room.......




Death... Shock and Everything Between...  Until Tommy Died, I Didn't Know It Hurt This Much
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Today... my little brother, my most favorite brother, died... eight years ago.  He died May 19, 2005... not even 5 months after our home burned down, destroying all.  Just saying that, hurts me deeply.  I loved him with my very heart... Rick-Rick was the family member who would 'come through hell' to me, his sister.  I knew he loved me very much... this is the only family member I ever 'knew' truly loved me.

I remember standing there in shock, watching the house burn down... there was a crowd of people all around... all of a sudden, Rick-Rick's face appears in front of me... his eyes were streaming tears... tears for what had just happened to us.  I was trying to hear his words as he cried... telling me he was so sorry, he cared.  He was so, distraught.  Ricky seemed to 'pop up' for me to let me know he cared with his heart... when bad things happened to me.

Ricky was there, always... to help me many years ago.  He worked on my car, never charging me for anything, excepting to buy the parts.  I can 'see his hands' when he'd repair my car in the winter-time... when he'd scuff them up, cutting them... I can see the blood in my mind's eye.  I can even 'feel' the little 'shock' that runs through me when I see someone is hurt.  I couldn't bear for his hands to get hurt working on my car.

When I almost died, in the hospital after major surgery that saved my life... I woke up while still in 'that other world of being heavily medicated; not knowing what's happened'.... I saw my brother, Rick-Rick... he was looking at me with tears in his eyes... he was crying 'for me'.

I don't think he knew I could somehow, see him... I saw him quietly leave the room.  I know he didn't hear me calling him back... I think I didn't make a sound.  Rick-Rick would just 'pop up' anytime... no one had to ask him to come.

Getting back to the house fire... I tried so hard to hear what Rick-Rick was trying to tell me.  Have you ever tried to 'hear someone's voice'.... when in shock?

Have you ever been in shock so, many times in your life... trying to take in what's happened, trying to hear..... to see someone's mouth moving... not hearing a sound they made?  I have... so, many bad things have happen in my life... I can tell you, each time it happens... I haven't become used to it; I still can't hear someone talking.

How many times have I stood, sat... watching someone's mouth move... and have this thought?  'I see your mouth working... I can't hear what you are saying'.  Shock does that.... you can't feel, think.... hear.

Our home burned down on December 28, 2004... several days after that, my first cousin, died in a most horrible crash... a log truck hit her head-on.  I wish I could relate some things here about that... so, surreal when they happened... you would think it was in a book.  I can't bear to think about that right now.... it involved what I saw.  All served to push me into further... shock.

She was helping us to get back on our feet; she gave us money, household things for the place we'd found... she and I had promised that 'no matter what' we'd be close for the rest of our life... we were for several days.  She died before we got to see if we could be 'forever'.

We were going to keep it secret... there were family members who couldn't stand to see anyone close... they'd keep on until they 'busted that up'.  One aunt in particular hated us; she had caused a rift between us in the past.

Jealousy, hatred for the other sisters' daughters... to understand... you'd have to be in 'the family'... too many women.  Everyone knows 'each woman wants to be the Queen'.... in fact, if that particular aunt was on the phone with my mother when I came to see her... my mother would tell her so, she could get off the phone... my aunt would become angry with her, and say something about 'the Queen' being there.  She would punish my mother by not calling for some time, to upset her.  She caused such grief through the years.  I forgot to say... I grew up with very vindictive family.  You couldn't dare show them any happiness you were feeling... in fact, if you came around some of them with brightly colored balloons... they'd take pleasure into walking up to you while smiling... and prick every one of them.  Not only that... never  understand 'why you would be upset at them'.  The pleasure.... you could always 'see that pleasure' they got in their eyes.

She was angry because her own daughter had turned against her; never had anything to do with her again until the day she died.  I watched, listened to my other family crying, telling me how she would blackmail them for something that 'happened 20 years ago'.  If one was smart... they'd hide being close; hide letting her know they loved 'another family member'.... she wasn't the only one who hated to see 'love' in the family.  They instantly go to work to 'undermine' it....

In my family... we all know that it 'can't be'... that's okay, we all are fine that way.  We learned to be.  It doesn't mean you have to 'hate' the other... though, I'm sure some do.  I don't hate at all.

We 'don't need' each other.  Now.. that I don't have family left... I'm glad I was brought up that way.  I love the family members I have now...at a distance... I want them to stay at a distance... because I... realize I don't know how to appreciate having 'real' family at this late day and time.  I 'don't know what to do; how to act'... it's my fault... life made me that way.

I know...     'I don't have family left'.....     'the family members I have, now'...    one contradicts the other.  It's my life.... and all I can say... that's just the way it is... no more, no less.  It is what it is....

It's not their fault, they tried to reach out to me... I just can't do it... I just can't do it.  I don't need 'extra pain'.  I don't 'know how to be family'.... I can't love 'up close'... I can only 'love at a distance', when no one can get into my personal life.  It's the only way I know; it's the only way I grew to be through all these years when 'no one was around for me'.

Why... how could I change now?  I tried to.  I failed at it miserably... just plain-out miserably.  I guess I'm a failure at that... I know I am.  I don't like to hurt people, I don't mean to... I want to keep them at a distance from me.  I can't love 'family'.... up close.

I've just 'hurt family'... by putting distance between us.  It's probably a permanent distance 'now'... that's okay, I've been walking in those shoes all my life.  I'm not like anyone in my family... I just can... not connect... I don't know how.

Not only that, I see it in some of my other 'family members'... they are so afraid to trust, that they won't even say where they live, afraid our own family will destroy them with our past.  How anyone can blame or look badly at a child... when it wasn't their fault at all, they had no choice in how they grew up?

I 'know where they are coming from'... I understand why they are so suspicious, distrustful... I 'came from the same place'... I walk in 'those shoes'.

I can't hold it against them... We all lived so far off from each other (several thousands of miles) through time... the last time we've seen each other was when we were little.  No one even has a clue 'where the other has walked in life, the effects life events have played on the other'... 'one size doesn't fit all'.  Just because you are alright, doesn't mean the other one is.

Just because they look, sound okay... that's pride (you know.... where we want the other to think we have life by the horns; life's good to us)... doesn't mean it's so.  We are so hurt when we realize... no one knew 'that about us'... seems like 'they'd know'...

We all are different... who in the world is going to take time, or the interest ... to find out?  No one... it no longer matters.  We've 'learned to go our own ways'... we don't need, nor want the others in our life 'now'.  Sad?

Yes, yes it is... life can be that way... it's real life no matter what you, or I think, or like about it.  It's going to be... and that's just the way it is.  How do I know?  I feel the same way.

There were so many of us who experienced 'Hell'... we all came from the 'same place' as children.  'Hell' burned scars on our minds that can't be seen... but, whenever any one of us has contact... all you have to do is to listen... the scars have a way of showing themselves.  Our words, the way we think, feel... reflect them just as a mirror picks up all our flaws in a bright light.

I say to them... don't be afraid of the other.... 'tell the world first, if you have to... and go on living'.  This way of thinking came from watching as children... our mothers getting angry, blackmailing the other to get their way.  They did do things they shouldn't have; they made the mistake of trusting a sister; it'd come back later to 'bite them in the ass'.

No one thought 'to tell the world what they didn't want known'... they'd let themselves be blackmailed everytime.  That taught me a valuable lesson... 'if you threaten me... I will tell on myself in a heartbeat if I lose every friend in the world... and not only that... I'll tell them 'why' I did something.  I'm strong enough... all that's happened to me in my life has made me a for-real good person.  I don't understand, yet... I do... why my mother and her family members would let themselves be 'blackmailed'.

I 'see fear' in some of my family members... the same old thing I watched as a little girl.  Fear of other family members... because some don't mind ripping another family member's life apart.  In fact, quite a few of them ... thrived on 'drawing blood'.  Loved to 'see what happens if they said this, said that'.  They wanted to 'see what would happen if they pulled the spider's legs off'.  I have never-ever wanted to be like that!  I can't tell how many times I watched that through time....

The more pain caused... the bigger the smile would become... until they were 'pure gleeful'.  It made the adrenaline rush... giving such a high.  I knew several family like this... 'gleeful' was how I'd describe them, as they danced around proud... that they'd just destroyed someone's life. As a little girl, I'd be so fascinated watching such happen... when I was little... it appeared to me 'like magic'.. just crazy, I know.  Little children try to make sense of what their little, innocent eyes see....

I'd see bright lights in their eyes, so happy they were!  I'd see, hear such a rush, see the set of their faces... know when they caused such pain to another... it made them high... on a roll.  They had meant to get someone back, and they 'got his ass'... now, 'who is Queen of the mountain'.. and 'I showed your ass'!

This is what this person grew up seeing... I thought everyone was like this... thankfully, I didn't trust as many people as I could have through time; sadly, I trusted some, shouldn't ever have. To see so much of this in different family members... something had to be born into us... or it was learned from generation to generation.  One side of our family is known for having a '.............. streak'... the ones who 'had it'... stood out when angry, or happy.  Definitely noticed by... everyone.  All my family know what I say is true... the ones living grew up seeing what I did... they didn't get out 'un-scarred'.

Most all turned out to be good people from what I know.  So... how can one hold mistakes against someone for things they had no control of when children, growing up....when you see such?  I can't.

That may be because.... I'm not perfect, and if I'd been... I'd never know what I know now.  I'd still be making the same mistakes.  I'd probably be a drunk, addicted to drugs, a prostitute, a really bad person who'd do bad things... I've been around all as a younger person.  I saw how to do it all... somehow, I didn't turn out to be any of the things I just named, or the things... I didn't name.  All 'combined' made me want to be 'me'... the person I am.  I 'tried some of the dresses on'... but, they didn't 'fit me'....

I wanted to be good as I could be... things don't bite you in the ass when you are... if any do.... the bite won't be as severe.  It's better to be as good as you can be... I promise that... take it from me.

I don't know that life is 'so much better when you are as good as can be'... because through time when 'I could have been very, very bad'... I wasn't... yet, I see people who are very, very bad... end up 'having everything' they could possibly desire in life.

My 'good decisions'... made me 'lose out on so much'............. but, guess what?  I have a peaceful mind knowing I haven't cheated to get material things; stolen or deceived someone when I could have easily done it.  We've had/have our hard times... but, though our minds aren't peaceful when we do... they are... because we 'do right'.  Peace of mind... is a good thing.  Not hurting others is a good thing.

We can't help all that happened when we were young; nor the mistakes we made as we grew up not knowing any better.... the good thing is... getting off the paths we got on from ignorance; not knowing...  traveling good paths in life.  The words make it sound like it was so easy 'to just learn quickly, jump onto a good path and go off into the sunset to live happily ever after'.

That's not so, at all... I can't tell you the years of hell, grief of trying to learn the hard way; there wasn't anyone to teach me...  how it affected my life so much... it's a wonder I'm not dead, or in a prison, or have disappeared somewhere.

I learned the hard way also, because of pride... too much pride.  I didn't want someone to think 'I didn't know something'... I made mistakes 'until I learned'.  I learned from them so well... because I felt the pain from learning them the hard way.... oh why, couldn't I have asked someone?

Oh... I've learned this in all my years, know it to be true.... when you do good things for others... it really does come back to one in ...more ways than one.  I'd like to do more good than I do... sadly, there are people who are 'always there' to take advantage... greed, getting something for nothing.  We got fooled not long ago, when we gave away a lot of nice things we've had stored up, never using.  We wanted them to go to people who really needed....

One day I will write about my younger life... for now, it's not the time.  Only then... will I write about... my life.  I can't write for the others....... my words will be my own words, about me.  They will have to write about their own life... I can't do it for them; nor do I desire to.

Getting back to my cousin's death when she was killed in the crash... and our home burning down.  It was so strange to be reading through eyes that made it almost impossible to read... for the tears, about 'both'... our home burning, and my cousin dying in the crash 'at the same time'.

I remembered thinking that when we were little, we never knew I'd be standing there reading in a newspaper about our home burning down, much less at the same time, reading about her death in the log truck crash.  Can you even imagine such?  I couldn't wrap my mind around it... I just couldn't believe it.

To read about someone who was the only 'real' sister I had as a little girl, my own cousin I loved dearly ... while we were digging through the rubble where our house burned.... I remember as I read the small town newspaper, I stopped, stood for a while just staring off into space... remembering her; seeing us play as the little blonde-headed girl, and me, the little brown-haired girl.  That was when I liked ... to cook... I never did as an adult.  :)))

We made all kinds of chocolate pies... from mud.  We had our own little kitchen, playhouse. We kept it very clean (we were taught to clean... so, we were taught something).

Our kitchen/playhouse was behind Grandma Alma's house, on the side of George's out-building under the 'Catawba tree' where somehow.... worms 'grew from that tree'!  I was too little to understand... even now, I would have to research it to know... 'what made me think worms grew from that tree'.

I was several years older than my cousin... I remember when we began thinking about 'how pretty' we were.  We began to 'pose' in our photos... just like we saw our mamas do.  They were beautiful... we were on our way to being ... beautiful.  We knew it... we were taught this too, by watching, admiring all the many women in our family.

Our family was known for 'the prettiest women; the prettiest girls'.  Today... is no exception... there are some beautiful young women in our family 'now'...  Not only that, their daughters are ...just as beautiful.  Truthfully, I don't know many 'ugly women' in our family... the ones I ever saw, let themselves get old, bitter, angry.

I'll never forget how I found out about my cousin's death.  That day when we heard all the sirens... lots of them... we had no idea.  We even followed at a distance up hwy. 56... stopped at the bottom of the hill, looked up at the top.  From there, we could see the white car... never suspecting it was her.  We could see the log truck.....

Skip and I turned around to go back, salvage any little thing from the house-fire.... people were stopping, stealing anything they could find that wasn't damaged... taking it with them.  We were trying to find our things if there were things not ruined... before someone else got them.

Sometimes... people we knew, stopped to get what they could... we were told about them; we said they would give those things to us... we were sure that's 'why' they searched through our things.  We are still waiting for them... to give what they found... to us.  Maybe they just ... forgot; I know they didn't mean to keep them.  I'm sure they don't know 'we know they did that'.

When we'd drive by, we would see them standing there, picking things up.  Our friends close by told us who they saw.  People we knew would drive by, see people carrying books, any piece of furniture they could find... with them.

I didn't know people came like vultures to steal your things before you could come back to go through all.... when your home burned down... I never thought of doing such.... I never thought about trying to steal someone's things like that... nice people, at that....

That evening my cousin died in the crash, Ms Nancy drove up... she began speaking to me... I went into the second shock; it had only been several days our home burned down.

She told me about my cousin being killed by the log truck...  she wanted me to hear from someone who cared about me... instead of hearing it from someone else.  She told me, herself.

The cellphone rang before Ms Nancy told me... it was my cousin's husband asking if my cousin was there... he knew she might would come by... she hadn't got home yet.  I didn't know at that moment... moments later, I learned.

How many times did I go into shock during that time?  I stayed so numb... all the things I saw was behind an 'invisible wall'... one that tried to protect me from so much pain.

Just a couple of months before the house fire, my cousin's death from the log truck crash... her brother... 'committed suicide'... I heard a lot of conflicting stories.  I won't go into that.  I don't know what really happened; only what my cousin who died in the crash... told me.  When we were little, he was my brother... though we were first cousins.  He protected me in my first grades in school... my own little brother had disappeared out of my life.  He was taken to a different... Hell.

Since Tommy died, my mind goes to my mother's sister... their mother.  I keep seeing her face... no wonder her face looked the way it did... I have a photo I put on here, of me, just last week... my face had the same expression.  It was a photo I don't remember being taken of me just after Tommy died.

One can 'see' I was in another world... I couldn't bear to be 'here' for the pain; though, my physical body was.  I understand, and have since Tommy died 'why'... no one can understand unless... they walk in the same shoes.  You've got to have a child who has died... in her situation, oh my God... think about it, she had 2 children died within 4 months.

I can't even imagine what it feels like with two children dying so close together in such horrible circumstances.  I only know how it feels when my only child died... guess what?

It doesn't matter how a mother's child dies... just dying, going away forever, changes her whole life.  If they died by someone's hand... someone did something terrible to them... oh my God, it would keep tormenting the mother.

I can only think of the 'double' grief... my aunt suffered.  In my mind, I see her face.  She's gone now... but, honestly... I almost know from my own experience that no one could have ever possibly known the extent of her mental anguish, the grief in her mind.  I didn't know at the time.... I just knew she has lost both children, how awful for that to happen.  I knew that it hurt her.  Until Tommy died ... I didn't know it ... hurt this much.

Finger Toes... Wearing Gloves For Shoes With Soles On Them

Silly doodles go with silly thoughts... a girl's got to have fun sometimes... especially when they have an imagination such as mine... sometimes, the silly thoughts have to escape.  Where, better than here?




Finger Toes... Wearing Gloves For Shoes With Soles On Them
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



No, they aren't pretty.  Each one is short, a little plump.  Looking at them, I see each one is a cute, funny shape.  My toes... my little, cute, most treasured toes.  They are all I've got... they mean the world to me.  They aren't pretty, but... they work good!

I look at everyone's toes... don't you agree, that we all wish our toes were prettier.  I admit, I have seen pretty toes... I envied them.

I've seen toes as long as my own fingers!  I have short fingers, but... if they were toes... I'd be wearing gloves for shoes.  You might would say, "that's just not right"!  I'd have to put soles on the bottom of each glove in order to walk in them.

I'm imagining them... you know, the colors you could have would be endless.  More colors than shoes have!  I can see so many colors in my mind; beautiful designs.

Each 'finger toe'... could be done individually... I was thinking of something... what about a 'high heel' glove?  Nah!  I can see those big, long toes flopping in the wind.  It wouldn't work.... at all.  One might trip on their own finger toes.

I can see where having toes that long could make a positive difference in my life... at times.  For instance... while I'm drawing, or writing... and I'd like a sip from my glass of tea... my foot could just reach out, grab that glass up... put it to my thirsty lips, tilt it just so, I wouldn't have to miss a beat drawing, writing as I satisfied my thirst.  I just don't think I could scratch my back with them, though.....

Also... if I could knit, or crochet... I don't know how.... I would be able to do that to relax, while I used my hands to work.  I'm thinking I might would need another head... it'd be hard to think with my finger toes... without a mind of their own.  With so much I could do with finger toes, I don't know if this head up on my shoulders would be ... enough.  Why?  Because I would have to think... twice enough.

Another head would make it possible to read, learn extra things to do with my finger toes... it wouldn't even have to bother the head on my shoulders while I did what I normally do.

I might would need another head... but, I don't want to go there.  Thinking about this is twisting my brain around... enough.  See what I mean.... one head is enough for the toes I've got... if they were finger toes, it'd be time for another head, brain to think past ...this one brain.  That's why I'm having a hard time trying to tell you about this... I have to imagine.

I was thinking having finger toes could give more strength, power to us.  All the things I could do while my hands were busy...  suppose someone tried to grab me, run away with me?  Why I could reach out with those long finger toes, grab something to hold onto... you get the picture.

If I were driving, and you drop something in the floor... I could pick it up quickly with my finger toes, hand it to you.

If you needed me to add something up... I'd have 20 digits, not just 10 fingers... I could add good!

Okay... okay...... I have a headache with this one head I have.  My imagination, you know.  This comes from imagining something really one would need two heads to think about..... because who has ever heard of 'finger toes, and wearing gloves for shoes with soles on them'?