New day ... new thoughts.
Anyone who knows ME ... knows that each morning when I wake up ... my eyes look for the sunshine.
I look toward the window hoping it's there ... seeking cheerfulness to last throughout the rest of the day.
Why? You know ... I have always been like that ... like looking for all the good in each day.
I am a complicated person ... each day I am different ... yet I am always the same.
We each look at the world in ... our own eyes. I can't see your world through your eyes but ... I can listen, read, imagine from your words.
I remember as a little girl ... somehow, I knew how to describe to an old, blind man all I was seeing on the TV he 'watched' each day. He would 'see' through my eyes for a short time. He could imagine. How did I know to do that? I don't know.
Somehow ... in my little girl mind I felt it important for him to know exactly what his favorite characters were doing. I would describe expressions, even as a child I would try to mimic them while talking. That's when George ... my step grandfather would smile the biggest smile!
The sunshine in my Heart would spread through ME ... making ME feel happy inside ... I ... did that, I made George smile!
George didn't have a lot to smile about. Each, every day of his life was lived in darkness ... oh my, how did he do it?
He was a caregiver to my Grandma Alma ... she was paralyzed. Without fail each morning he would make her coffee, bathe her, put her body through range of motion exercises. He would 'walk' her to the front door, back to the kitchen ... then, to her old, fabric recliner that rocked.
He made sure she would take her medicine from the many bottles sitting on the old dresser beside her chair. As a child for some reason ...ALL those bottles disturbed ME. She would die if she didn't take them.
She would cry when they didn't have money for her medicine. I didn't understand ... my eyes saw fear that I didn't fully understand.
Each morning was always different ...each day before always brought some kind of new Hell into their pitiful lives.
New children (the whole family) would be dumped off to live with them ... more mouths to feed, more everything to do. George was responsible for all. He cooked, fed, made sure each child ate, went to school each day.
He washed our clothes ... as children we didn't know the difference in whether our clothes were clean, smelled good or not.
Children are so innocent ... until some adults step out of boundary, marring them, waking them up to a dark world hidden just beneath everyday life.
It never occurred to ME why ... in all my 9 years on this earth my whole life changed. I was dumped off at Grandma Alma, George's house.
I went from a pampered world straight into ... Hell. I was a little princess who dressed in the most beautiful dresses my Grandmother Lola would buy, bring to ME. I lived in a nice home, spotless ... a lady would care for me, my brother. I had the best of friends ... until .....
I never understood until I was much older ... why my friends, all the kids at school began adding to the Hell I had begun to live each day of my Life.
They never understood how my beautiful life, being normal had drastically changed. As children ... how could they, right?
They couldn't see through my eyes ... for sure I never told them what happened in that awful world ... looking back ... I don't think I knew enough to have words to describe it. That's when I began to learn shame ... to never tell anyone ... anything.
That's when my mind, my body was being abused, bullied ... that's when as a child ... I ran away ... found, took a bottle of medicine, tried to just ... die.
That's when ... without knowing it ... I first began to be strong. No, it didn't happen overnight ...
That's when my own eyes began to open ... I began to see, know things ... many things real parents protect their children from.
No one could protect ME, I was an extra child on top of all the Hell heaped on my Grandma Alma, George.
I wonder ... how did I learn to be secretive about the double world I lived in? How did I know not to tell them, to tell someone?
As that little girl my eyes began to open to the ugliness of the world ... even then ... I would forgive ... after hating someone for what they did to Me ... I could still love them ... see how good they could be when they were nice to ME.
As the little girl who grew up ... I have forgiven all a very long time ago. ... hold no hate in my Heart.
However ... my Life didn't teach ME ... to be a pushover. I try to be as good as I can be ... enough so, I am perfect enough for ME to live with.
Yes, once in a great while, I have been challenged, someone mistaking my smiles, kindness for weakness ... needless to say ... a side of ME was seen that's always there to protect ME ... yes, all Hell broke loose. It wasn't pretty ... it was effective.
Even good people can be pushed too far. I don't like to be ugly but ... if, when, while it happens ... I make the best of it. That's when the pure, white fires of Hell break loose ...
Thankfully ... I choose to live a quiet life, never inviting ugliness into my little world. I am older ... not blind like a child anymore.
If you can enter my little, treasured world ... that means you are somebody I care about, respect, trust. If I take time to speak, smile at you ... it's genuine, from my Heart.
If it's a smile reserved only for people I don't like ... they recognize it's a smile of respect, go about your business, stay out of my life smile. I try to be nice to everyone.
I can see now ... I can't make Life perfect ... I can make it as good as possible ... make it the best I can.
Like with Skip ... each and everyday I watch, listen, study on how I can make his life easier, better. I make a way to get him what he needs, wants to eat, drink.
He is taken good care of ... bathed each day, sometimes more than once, wears clean clothes, eats, drinks what he wishes for, watches his TV programs, enjoys his tablet ... loved, respected by his wife who is faithful to him always. She puts him, Kissy Fairchild first in her Life. That's ME!
Am I perfect? No way! I get upset at times, say some ugly words that I'm ashamed of ... that's the Hell in ME instilled in ME, as a little girl.
That's the fuel in my Life that makes ME go ... instead of laying down, crying like a wimp ... giving up.
That's putting gas in my car making ME strong enough to get through what I am battling at the moment.
It's my 'mean to get things done one way or other'. Nine out of ten times ... I succeed. Sometimes ... even the best have to raise a little Hell to push us past the hard, complicated things in Life.
This is how I see it ... some of what I see as the adult I am today.
That's the way Life is ... my Life is.
