'THE NEWS'...Granny Gee's Thoughts/Opinions

'THE NEWS'....  Granny Gee's Thoughts/Opinions

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/aka GRANNY GEE

I am doing what we all do each morning... I am listening to the news.  So far what I have heard is... downright scary.

I watched 'disturbing video' as a man was violently pulling the door of a store open to grab the woman who desperately was trying to hold it close.  He pulled her outside, threw gas on her, set her on fire.  He was the father of her child.

What bothers me, also, is when the news comentator said that the video showing the man setting the woman on fire 'might be disturbing, some people may not want to look at it'.... is that I looked at it.

It hurt my heart, as I felt pain for the woman engulfed in flames, running.... I realized that we all must be watching such things on video that has happened through time... bad things.  We watch because 'now'... we are so used to watching things on tv.  This has become another thing we can watch because we are used to seeing such.

The photo of a young woman with a stunned, scared expression popped up on the tv screen.  The news person told why her photo was there... she stole from a patient in a nursing home.  Stealing from patients... she stole a patient's debit card and used it for several months at grocery, department stores.  Employee, someone patients trusted....

I watched as an older man walked with handcuffs... gracious, he's abused young unfortunate boys in a sexual way.  My thought is how shameful... how he looks so like a 'good' person... he got by with doing such because he looked so 'innocent'.  He worked at a college, he was important there.... he used his position.... he loved to take showers with young boys....

Police are looking for a gunman in an apartment complex, he shot a man....... another man pleaded guilty to the deaths of a young woman and a small child.... something to do with satanic acts.....

I would like to hear good news, but... here in our area... there's so much death now.  We are now overpopulated... with it brings people from every walk of life, every country and their new ways to do things, to live, their beliefs.  Life is very different here, now.

There are many shootings, deaths of young people who will never get to accomplish their dreams, to grow older, to have children.  If they were on the wrong path in life, they never had opportunity to get back on a good path to succeed in life.

We can remember being young... our minds 'then'... had no way of knowing the things we know as an older person.  God, how innocent we all were... at that time we believed we could do anything, we were invincible.  It was easy if a young person wasn't alert ... to be led onto different paths by older kids, people.

It was easy to be led to do things if a young person didn't have a sense of right and wrong.  Kids learned from those mistakes... they could 'come back from them'... back then, the mistakes young people made... weren't the 'end of the world'.

The mistakes 'today' that kids make... makes me wonder 'how in the world can a young person come back from that, have a future 'now'?  How can young people who kill... come back from that mistake to have a good life?  How can anyone come back from doing hideous things to others, animals?

In my mind, I can't see it.  They have ruined their lives, not counting what they inflicted on others.  I don't believe a person can 'come back' from doing such awful things to another person, animal.

I feel sad watching the news... I shake my head.  A refrigerator failure has caused brains not to be used now for research.  As I was writing, I had to stop.... that's what was said.  It was so out of the ordinary... as when you just read it.

I look back in time as I began to notice that each morning on the news... there has been one or more shootings... someone has died.  Death every morning... it's never stopped.   So many young people killing other young people.... their faces reflect no shame, no regret on their mug shots.  In fact, their faces reflect anger because they've been caught, arrested.

More shootings... I look up from my writing to see a lighted doorway in the darkness... deputies are walking around inside... seems there's been a multiple shooting....

Another teacher has molested, taken indecent liberties with a young student.  This has become so common now, in our news.  Teachers doing the unthinkable.  I know it's been going on since I was a young girl... I remember young girls doing things to get attention from older men, teachers.  Young guys showing off to the female teachers.

When we are young, growing up, we naturally do those things to attract mates for life, to marry, have children.  It doesn't give older people the right to take advantage because they know the 'right' things to say or do.. because 'they've been there and done that'.  Young people are vulnerable.

What is sad is when a young person is at the mercy because they are unfortunate... they don't have both parents, they don't have a good home, they are 'nobody', they live bad.... someone older comes along that knows exactly how to 'use them up'.

That doesn't give the teacher the right to cross that invisible boundary... when a teacher ... one becomes a role model, someone the whole community can look up to.  Same way with our pastors, priests........  I remember my own experiences at school, church when I say what I do.  I was a young girl once... I remember many things I saw, experienced.

Each morning when I listen to the news... I listen, form my opinions just like you see above.  I say prayers constantly for victims of 'bad' things.  My heart is touched each time I see someone, animals... who are abused, hurt, killed.  I despise injustice, unfairness... I see, hear it on the news, real life 'everyday'.

I couldn't live without the news each day.  We would be like the old days if we didn't have the news.  We wouldn't know about terrible storms in other places, tornadoes, scams, the latest trend...... we wouldn't know 'so much' if it wasn't for the news.

I am going to continue to watch the news every morning.  I want to know what's going on in our big, old world... be it good, or bad.  Every morning,,, this is how my mind thinks as I process all I hear, see on tv.  I'm constantly thinking, forming opinions...

I will just keep on listening to the news... watching as it seems to get 'worse' through time.  I think alot of what happens now is reported... when back in time... it wasn't.

I don't believe 'everything' I hear, see on the news... through the years I have seen evidence of juries convicting someone wrongly of crimes they didn't commit.  I have to use my judgement when I hear something that's happened, follow up on the stories before I believe.

Remember Susan Smith... she killed her children?  I didn't believe her the from the first moment I heard her open her mouth.  Those little boys would be grown up now...... following their dreams.  I wonder if she thinks of that?

People, cameras 'everywhere'... it didn't use to be like that.  Everything's mobile... people and cameras can be everywhere in the world... satellites....

To bring us ..... 'THE NEWS'.....

THANK-GOD FOR OTHER GRANDMOTHERS....

THANK-GOD FOR OTHER GRANDMOTHERS.....


BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/aka GRANNY GEE


I should have known, though an uneasy thought flitted through my mind... only for a brief moment.  I pushed it away.  I'm not one who goes looking for omens... though sometimes, I really think we may get them in our lives.


I think the reason I felt what I did was because at my granddaughter's birth, September 05, 2000.... the other grandmother 'made it bad' with her actions when we went to the hospital.  It was a happy-sad event for me.


After Taban's birth, Skip and I went to Walgreen's Pharmacy to get a special balloon to take later back to the hospital.  A special blue balloon that said 'IT'S A BOY'!   As we walked outside I was happily talking about Taban... how I could 'see' Tommy in him!  Do you know what happened?


That balloon floated out of my hand .... (sometimes, my hands will 'let go' and I think it comes from the surgeries I had ... for each hand).  Skip and I stood there with such shock... watching that blue, silvery balloon float so far up until it was a tiny, shiny spot in the air.  I said to Skip... 'Oh no!  I hope this isn't a bad sign!'  I worried that it might mean something in the future to hurt me.... never believing for a moment it was.  I knew Tommy was fine, I knew Taban's mother and I had a good relationship... everything was alright.  Taban's other grandmother didn't resent me... she was a nice person.


For three years all was fine... you all know what happened.  Tommy died, and I no longer see Taban... he no longer cares for his Granny Gee if he does see me.  He doesn't know Tommy wanted me to be very special in his life... Tommy 'named me Granny Gee for Taban'.


I'm Granny Gee, not the grandmother you would know.... I'm one in name only.  Just as I am mother in name only.  It's like a box.... look inside... there's nothing.  I am that box... my insides are ... empty..... when it comes to being mother, grandmother.


On March 16, 2007, the day my grandson was born, I was so happy.  A real grandson.... I was so awed to think 'I would be grandmother to a little boy'.  I felt the same way when my granddaughter was born.  I went so many years without grandchildren... I didn't think it possible to ever be a ... grandmother.  Sadly enough... I am 'grandmother/Granny Gee' in name only today.  Also, I am only a 'mother' in name only... my son is gone.


I was wanted at my grandson's birth... I was honored.  I stood there with his other grandmother while he was being born.  How special is that?  His other grandmother was very gracious, she would smile at me as if she 'knew somehow'... how meaningful being there was for me.


This grandmother, Taban's other grandmother... has always been gracious to me.  She's always treated me very nice... I have nothing but, respect and liking for her.  She never treated me in a way to make me think she wanted to be the only grandmother.  Taban's mother... has a good mother.  I'm glad she's Taban's grandmother.  I didn't get to know her well either, but... enough to know she's a 'good' person.  Today... I can only say 'I like you, Taban's other grandmother'... you ARE a good grandmother... I'm glad you are there for him.


I think McKenzie's other grandmother is a good person too... I think her own problems 'got in the way' of her 'really seeing me as a person'.  I'd like to think that.  I could see she could be a nice person when she smiled one time when we visited them... her voice was happy at that time... I liked her.  That was the only time I ever saw that.  Again.... she was like so many people..... one time when they see you, they 'smile and like you'.......... the next time seeing you..... 'cold eyes and I dislike you expression'.  I have no time for such people... I grew up with 'family' just like that... if they weren't happy... they didn't want anyone else to be happy.  If they were happy, they expected you to be happy for them... got mad if you weren't.  Crazy....


I will say this in all fairness... I'm thankful McKenzie has her other grandmother.  She is a good person in her life, community, church.  She loves McKenzie... and she would fight for her just as her mother would.  My grandddaughter has a good family support... I'm so thankful for that.  No matter that I'm not liked.... this is what matters to me.


I wasn't wanted by my granddaughter's mother at my granddaughter's birth.  We were called to come... and got the cold shoulder from her..... her actions... made sure to let me know she was 'grandmother'... she guarded that position well.   Why did she feel the need to act like she did?  I surely wasn't a threat to anyone.  I'm always quiet, I step back from any public scene ....unless... I'm pushed to the breaking point... then, I will hold my ground in the quietest way.


In that situation, I stayed very gracious, smiling quietly until we 'could just get away'.  On the inside... no one knew the pain I was feeling... this was 'my very own little granddaughter, I had a 'real' grandchild'!  I wasn't welcomed to be there.  I didn't choose to fight over it... I would have appeared to be 'bad'.  The other grandmother 'had taken over to the point' that she was in scrubs and doing things like the nurses were doing'... she wasn't a nurse.  Skip told me then... that he didn't believe that woman liked me.  I remember asking 'why'?


It was the strangest thing... Skip and I didn't know her or her husband at all... in fact, all I knew about that grandmother were only brief moments seeing, hearing her.  I didn't know her well enough to form a real opinion of her.  All I saw was negative... I only read negative, mean things from her on my computer that she emailed me.... I may have seen her smile several times, though it is hard to remember that.  Her husband always seemed so kind to us.  Skip liked him... at one time, Tommy thought the world of him.


This lady seemed to strike out at me... never knowing anything about me.  I did let her know quietly in emails in kind words that she couldn't just do that to me.  She would write back apologizing that she was just homesick for Georgia, and apologized for writing me mean emails.  She would do it again, and again.


McKenzie's mother had minor surgery... I couldn't go to her to help... I was taking chemotherapy, my body and mind were exhausted... my hands were like rubber... my legs didn't have the strength to go anywhere.  It was an effort to go to all my appointments.


Skip had to help me walk... 'only when we saw someone I knew' would he step back and 'let me walk by myself'... because he 'knew' my need to 'appear strong' to everyone.    I've done this since being a child.... maybe it's my protection to show people I'm not 'weak'...  I'm not even when I'm weak!


I am a fighter.. I mean to win.  When I say that, I don't mean in 'bad' ways'... I'm not a brawler (but, I would be to protect someone I loved, or the 'underdog'!  I don't mean to sound ugly... but, Granny Gee would 'whip ass'!).  :)))  I had to say that!  The devil made me do it!  (I might be the one who got whipped, though!).


This woman, the other grandmother emailed asking me 'when are YOU going to come to help me take care of _____'?  She, also, said some more things meant to make me feel bad because I hadn't come to help change the dressing on my granddaughter's mother's surgical incision.  I sat there once again ...stunned.  When Skip got home I showed him the printed-out email.  (I printed quite a few out from her).  He read it in disbelief.... and wondered aloud ...' doesn't she know what you are going through'?


I don't think that woman had any idea of how sick I was... whenever she saw me ...... she saw a 'strong person'.... 'just what I meant for her to see'.  So, really................. maybe it's my fault that I didn't tell her anything... rarely did I discuss my illness with anyone.  I have always been private, I've always kept things to myself.  So really.......... how could she have known?


Writing this out now... has helped me to see that.  I don't hold hard feelings toward her anymore........... truthfully.... I hated her all these years.  Just in the last few minutes.... I felt sorry that I never really talked to her, and told her what was going on in my life, how sick I was.  At that time, I may have assumed.... she knew.  I do that.... sometimes.  'Seeing her in my mind'... I think she was missing her hometown, family... maybe lonely, sad?  I, now, wonder 'why didn't I see that... and care'?  I may have made a friend.


I always accepted her apology.  I was too sick to think about her... I was fighting the battle of my life... for my life.  She was always like a 'thorn pricking at me'... during that time.  I look back at that time.... and each time I do... I shook my head... 'why'?


This was the second time in one year I went back for major surgery ... I didn't stay in 'remission' very long..... weeks?  This woman didn't know any of these things.  I had gone through so much more than words here can say... to live.  My body suffered so much, my mind... I was fighting to be well and doing a good job at it.... until I went back for a CT scan.  For the second time.... I had to do it all 'all over again'.


Before this ... I had a fruit and produce store... she came with her daughter (my son's girlfriend, granddaughter's mother at that time though at that time she wasn't expecting her...................................................).  I remember this woman walking in the store, she and my son's girlfriend walked to the other door to stand and admire Tommy's sports car.  I heard both begin to argue in a 'good-natured way'... 'that's MY car'!  I think Skip had driven it to the store as Tommy was on the road, driving a big rig.


I'm sorry to say that didn't make a good impression on me from the beginning.  I may have 'judged too quickly'... she may have seen that I didn't like hearing them... making her not like me.  I honestly don't know.


I think his daughter's wife became a very good wife, person when she remarried soon after hers and Tommy's divorce.  She was so young at the time they married.  That's not to say she wasn't a good person before she and Tommy married.  I never got to know her well.... I was on another journey in my life fighting my illness... even when around her when they came.  I didn't have the opportunity to know her at all.  Though... I had enough time to know that I loved her very much... I felt it in my heart... no matter the times I felt anger toward her.  I'm the same way about my grandson's mother.  I do love them... whether any of us like it or not...we are forever 'linked' to the other because their children are ... a part of me... a part of Tommy.


All I've heard from people I know in that area they live at... she's always busy in community things, church, and I've heard this ......... and I love it!  I hear people say... 'she's a damn good mother'!  I 'knew' that, though.  She loves her child.  Not only that, her husband loves McKenzie... he's been a good father through time to her.  Tommy honestly liked and respected him.  I never worry about McKenzie... she's got a good family life.


Getting back to sitting there at my computer reading in shock her words....  my body was very weak, my fingers were like rubber, my mind was foggy... from the chemotherapy drugs.  This woman was striking out at me from her own unhappiness... saying things that hurt me... this woman didn't know me well enough to do such a thing.


I was too weak to fight back.  The saying that one has to pick their battles... my choice was to live.  I didn't know this woman at all.


I never knew that lady... she constantly said mean things in emails to me ... I was too sick to understand 'why' she didn't like me.  This lady never knew me well enough to know she was being unfair to me... I will write about this later.  Through time ... I never got to know her anymore than she ever knew me..


I can only write what I personally know 'that affected my life and gave me such grief' at a time... any normal person would have left someone alone.  I don't think she even knew I was fighting to live, going chemotherapy, had major surgery... I think maybe she saw a scapegoat.


Sick or not sick, I'm not anyone's scapegoat... though I stay quiet, smile, and forgive... I'm the last person to be a 'weakling'... I was brought up to 'fight' to survive verbal, mental, physical abuse.


Another thing about me that only Tommy and Skip knew... no one else knows this..... when I am the most sick, I never let other see me 'being weak'.  I pretend to be much stronger than I am... I make myself 'walk taller, stand taller, head up... all my actions are deliberate'.


I have done this many times to hear remarks of  'wow, she doesn't look like she's dying', 'you sure are looking so much better'!  I see humor now, in this because... it's like a cartoon.  When I got out of sight of those people, I would 'fall apart' from 'holding on so long to appear strong'.  How many times did I do this?


I never wanted anyone to feel sorry for me.  It's really funny if you think about it for a moment.  No one knew the agony I was suffering, the pain.... I looked so strong.  When they went away... I would just fall back in my seat as soon as I could get to one, close my eyes with tears falling.... it hurt so bad to be strong.  It 'still does'... though I'm not battling for my life in that respect now.  I can still see the 'humor in things, no matter how bad'... a soft, gentle humor that isn't meant to hurt.


I battle 'now' to stay out of the darkness of grief that threatens to engulf me at any moment... unexpectedly.  I'm strong... though I may find myself on that path at any time... I know how to come back now... I follow the light, the colors of life back to where I need to be.  Everything really is going to be alright.


When my granddaughter was born... the only moment I felt happiness at that hospital... was when I looked through the window... I was a stranger, the other grandmother made me feel this...


I looked at my beautiful granddaughter.  She had a little striped cap on her head, she looked like her mother when she was first born.  I loved her mother... but, of course.... the other grandmother didn't know that... she didn't know me.  I voiced how beautiful McKenzie was, and how much she looked at her mother.  She was so special, beautiful.... I was in awe.


The specialness of that occasion was 'taken away'.....when I saw the other grandmother become angry... because I say my granddaughter looked like her mother!  At that time..... I couldn't understand it.  Remember this... I'm always 'connecting dots'... through time.  The 'whole picture' reveals itself eventually..........  I love 'dots'.....


The nurse was quick to come tell Skip and I that the other grandmother said we weren't to come back to our granddaughter's mother's room, that 'you have to leave now'.  The shock and upset I felt..... 'thank-you for telling us, we'll leave now'... I said quietly.  I held my head up, walked tall, strong... until I was out of sight.  I 'fell apart' in the car.  'Why'?  Our granddaughter's mother told us these words.... 'I want you to be there'....


The other grandmother had taken control at the hospital... so much so, that she'd gotten a nurse (I think a friend of hers) to let her don some scrubs to look like a nurse.... to 'help with the birthing.  She made a big production when we first saw her through the glass.  I didn't recognize her at first... I didn't know this woman...... 'anymore than I knew her as the other grandmother'.  That's how well we knew each other... it never went any farther than that.


Granny Gee... other grandmothers..... I had them on my mind this morning... thinking I'm so glad that they are there for my grandchildren.  I am not jealous, angry, or even upset that I don't see them.  I've dealt with this now... I have peace inside.


I have learned that 'grandmothers' who happen to be the 'son's mother'... aren't the most important grandmother.  It's the 'daughter's mother' who is dominant.  It stands to reason... mothers are the ones who give birth to children.  I 'see' that now... I have been seeing this for quite sometime.  I wonder how many people who read this... realize how true my words are?  Maybe... I'm the last person to learn this.


Regardless.... thank-God for 'other grandmothers'... from Granny Gee's heart.

GRANNY GEE HAS HER GROOVE ON... :)))

GRANNY GEE HAS HER GROOVE ON...  :)))

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/aka GRANNY GEE

Well........ today I went 'and done it'.  I had my head shaved and what little hair I had left... I had the beautician color it pink!!!!!

Granny Gee has a head of short pink hair
she's got her groove on, she's going to walk on the 'wild' side
Granny Gee is going to live without a care
she's going to get a corvette, and take a wild ride
Can't you see her now, Skip'll be sitting by her side
He might be grinning while getting a wild ride
Ya-hoo!  Let's ride Skip, let's go
Granny Gee is the driver, you know
I see your expression, your mouth says 'oh no'!
I say to Skip 'I am a safe driver'!  so...
Let's go, Skip, let's go!
Granny Gee's got her groove on, she with her short pink hair
Living and riding... without a care
Can't you see her in her red corvette
Skip wants the steering wheel.. she won't let
that steering wheel out of her hands
It's her wild ride, no matter his demands
Give me that steering wheel, Granny Gee
You are going to wreck us, can't you see?
Give me that steering wheel, Granny Gee
Oh, my pants are wet, this wild ride has made me........
:)))

Well............. what can I say?  The truth is that I don't have short pink hair.... I don't have a corvette... Skip isn't going to let me take him on a wild ride at all!

This is the funny, happy and colorful mood I am in on this day... I have been to the beauty shop... and finally for the first time in 2 years... I've had my hair colored...... back to a soft blonde.  I've always kept my hair blonde until... two years ago.

It has made me feel happy inside... I enjoyed standing in front of the mirror 'fixing' it... putting on make-up.  I 'saw me' again in that mirror!  I saw a twinkle in my eyes... that matched the happy color on my hair.

I told Skip that 'Granny Gee has her groove on'... that would be what I would write about.  Not only that... remember when I told you my colors were fading...... ?

I, now, have a new shower curtain that is soft happy colors of lavender, white, pink, yellow, green, orange..... hundreds of colorful butterflies are on it... some are solid colors, some have colored polka dots and other designs.  My colors ... are back!

I have a happy-colored head, and a happy-colored shower curtain... what else could anyone want?  :)))

This is a silly, happy story... some of my colors, you know!  Granny Gee has her groove on!  :)))

IT HAPPENED AGAIN...

 

Little Taban and his daddy, Tommy.... 'Tommy crying with Taban'....




IT HAPPENED AGAIN....

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE

I decided to change the cover photo on my Facebook Timeline yesterday. I found a photo of Tommy holding little Taban. Taban was crying, Tommy had picked him up.

Tommy began 'crying' with Taban... Taban had reached his little hand out to touch Tommy's face while looking at his daddy. That photo is so precious ... it reflects a father who loved his son with his heart.

I look at little Taban's face as he looked at his daddy. I was wondering if he was amazed at his daddy 'crying' with him. I wonder what he thought with his young mind?

When I look at that photo... my eyes are drawn to that little hand as it touches Tommy's face. It's so precious, so much in my mind, that it hurts me very much to look at it. It's real, and so, like Tommy's 'still here'. I know his face so well. I haven't forgotten my son... not at all.

I had to take the photo off my Timeline... each time I went to my Facebook page... seeing it all of a sudden when my Facebook page loaded... made me feel sort of faint, shaky inside... and I felt myself hurting when looking at the photo. I began that crying again... it happens like that... 'just before' I'm aware of it... it's strange.

I will put it back on again someday ... but, not now. It's not time for me to keep it out. I have only one photo I keep out to look at, it sits on Tommy's Chest. Tommy is smiling in the photo... at the time the photo was taken (I took the photo).... we had met McKenzie and her mother so, Tommy could see McKenzie. Whenever he got to see McKenzie, it always had to be at a McDonald's or Wendy's. Tommy didn't care, all he wanted was to see his daughter. He loved her very much.

I've been thinking of Tommy's Chest alot today... I feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I want to just go into my art room and get that chest, bring it into the dining room (I don't know 'why' I don't want to open it in my art room)

.

I want to sit Tommy's Chest on the dining table, take each article out to hold, to feel, to remember my son. That's what I want to do... I feel too much emotion, too much...............grief, pain to do so. I'm going to do it... I want to open it, 'visit my son' through his belongings. I wish I could remember what's in it... the things were put in it when I was in that 'dark world' ... I put each little thing I could find of his.. in it.

I don't have his ashes, Taban's mother has them. She says she's going to take them to Stone Mountain to spread them... I'm sure I won't be there. My wish is to have my son's ashes, but... she said 'no, Tommy wanted his ashes to be spread up on Stone Mountain'. I respect that, I respect that she wants to do what he told her. Tommy grew up in that area where we lived for many years... it's beautiful there.

It's like Skip and I... when 'we go'... we don't want to have a public viewing at all. We promised each other to not let other people walk around us, looking at us, stand around laughing and talking, visiting each other while we laid there.

It would be like coming into our bedroom to watch us sleep. It will be very private if something happens to one of us...we are very private people, though we have alot of friends. We both feel the very same way.... no viewing us as we lay in our 'final sleep'. We both want to be cremated... we both will keep the other's ashes.

I may be opening Tommy's Chest soon... something does tell me not to do it just yet. I tell myself I'm going to... I wonder 'why' it's so heavy? I can't remember what's in there to make it so... heavy. I 'try to see in my mind'... I only 'see darkness' just like when I was in that dark world... when I put his things inside. I can't remember, I just can't remember what's in there.

Wait... I do know there is that clear, plastic box in there. It holds photos that make me feel very upset... they are of Tommy laying there in what Taban called 'the box'... the box he tried to climb up in to see his daddy. He couldn't understand why his daddy couldn't get up to talk to him, play with him.... he was only three years old. It hurts my heart that a young child lost his father, he loved his 'big daddy' so much.

The box...where Tommy lay... the clear, plastic box of photos of 'that box'... that held my son so, everyone could view him... he never wanted to be viewed like that. He was also, very private. There were so many people there, standing and talking, laughing... visiting each other. I drifted around in another world... I was a leaf... the wind blew me... when it stopped, so did I. I was seeing all from another world... through grief-stricken eyes, through a fog of powerful medicine. Thank-God for that medicine.

I had no idea all these thoughts were so close to the surface. I thank-God for having 'here' to go to ... to write these thoughts to help clear my mind. I think I'm hurting without me wanting to know that I am... I think that I don't want to hurt... but, it's happened... again. It still happens again... and again. It really hurts so bad. I wonder 'why' this happened at this time? It must be something subconscious... something I don't want to try to think about.

As this happens again... and again... I will pick me up .... again and again. I won't stay down ... I mean to go forward. I know this will happen in the future... but, I will cope with 'now'. You can 'see me get up now'... everything's going to be alright... again. :)))

             

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JUST HOW COULD I ?

JUST HOW COULD I ?....

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/aka GRANNY GEE

Yesterday... I had occasion to meet someone whom I see on my Facebook all the time. She reads my blog! How honored I am! When I saw her sitting at the table I instantly recognized her... we both began smiling!

How special, how fun it was to meet someone who said 'I read your blog'. I felt like 'somebody'... though really, I am only 'Granny Gee/Gloria'. It did feel good  to meet another person who found my words interesting enough to read.

Sharon, it was so nice to meet you...more than my words can say. Vanessa, it was very nice to see you again!

It is just like each day when I get comments or emails... my heart is touched over and over. I think with such a soft, happy feeling inside .... 'how about that'? 'How so, so special'!

Awe... amazement... wonderment... in the most softest, special way... soft, beautiful colors of rose, sage green, hints of white... that kind of 'special'. That's the only way I can describe how I feel when people (you!).... read my blog and come back to read again, and again. It just means my very world. I'm no one special, but... sometimes I 'feel' that wonderful feeling... 'you' have made 'me' feel that way.

I can't tell you how I've 'went into my self writing, never thinking about the world for the grief, sadness inside me'.... to later see that so many people cared. My heart has been lifted so, so many times.... and I've had such a 'heavy' heart.

It's been filled so much with sadness... it's been lifted so .... many times when I've read what you've written to me, the comments. All of you, my husband... Skip, and our Pups, Lena.....and my special friend, Ms Nancy..... have all contributed to me 'making it back' from the path of grief I've been traveling... you all keep me anchored.

I've been like a ship out to sea... the storms, the grief threaten from time to time to still carry me out on a wild ride... but, you all have helped to anchor me in one place so, that I might feel calmness, even happiness inside... again.

You all... mean my very world. If I didn't tell you.... you would never know. You all mean the very world to me. I wouldn't feel this 'special happiness' inside if all of you hadn't 'reached out to me' by reading my blog, writing to me.

I would have never believed I would actually feel 'joy' inside again... 'you' made it possible... you all have been there for me. Skip and our Pups, Lena.....Ms Nancy.... it's like that most beautiful song that makes me feel like crying inside.... of course, I won't remember the name of it (you all know me)...... you all .... are ... the wind beneath my wings. I wonder ... isn't that written by Elton John? Oh my, what a special song.....

If someone asked me today what song would I use to describe my reading audience, my fans, my friends.... that's the song I would select.... The Wind Beneath My Wings. How could I have 'come back' from the death of my son, a part of 'me'.... if it hadn't been for Skip, our Pups, Lena.....Ms Nancy.......and .... all of you? Just how in the world ... could I?

I have 'fought' many battles in my life... losing my son almost was my last battle. You all know this, you've followed me all along. You've all 'held me up' so, I could cross over some really, really 'bad' places in my path... it's like 'my spirit soared at times' to help me 'come back' ... all because of 'you'.

It means the very world to me. You all mean the very world to me, Granny Gee/Gloria. Just how could I have 'come back' if it hadn't been for 'you'? Just how could I?

　

MY STEPMOTHER... THE GREATEST PUPPETEER OF THEM ALL...

MY STEPMOTHER... THE GREATEST PUPPETEER OF THEM ALL...

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE

Happy faces, voices... I could hear everyone sharing their day while sitting at the dining table. I had finished eating before everyone and asked to be excused. I smiled as I left the table so, no one would wonder if 'Gloria Faye' was alright.

I was fourteen years old, I had just come to live with my father, his wife, and two half-sisters who were thirteen, and twelve years old. I loved them instantly, they were my 'family'..... I remembered them from living with them when I was younger... when my stepmother beat me in the back when my half-sister and I were washing dishes, giggling, playing.

I learned as time went by... I was the one who got the blame for my half-sisters... they would make things look like it was my fault so, as not to suffer the wrath of my stepmother, father.

I was always in trouble... and I was the quietest, nicest person. No matter what I did... I would hear 'Gloria Faye, I'm going to have to tell your daddy'. I didn't do anything and when 'I found out that I had'.... my stomach would get butterflies in it, I'd be scared. My daddy's eyes could look through one with such anger... if looks could kill... he 'killed me' alot of times. I loved him, but... either he didn't choose to see it, or he hated me. My stepmother kept him thinking the worst of me.

I would make good grades in school, come home in the evenings and do what was expected of me... then, I'd get out of everyone's way ... I would go to the bedroom (it was huge) where each of us had beds. I didn't want to be in trouble, I wanted everyone to love me.

I would take my school books, sit on the bed to study, hoping no one would get mad at me. Every evening I would sit like that ... my stomach always so nervous. I didn't want anyone to speak sharply to me, it hurt my heart. I tried to not be noticed.

During that time.... I almost quit eating... remember my story about going to live with my mother who was so tiny, beautiful? I had no idea I could even put on her clothes... when I learned that I could... my whole world changed again... I saw 'me'...

I was beautiful, too! And.... little! I also, learned that I could wear earrings! My stepmother told me I could never wear earrings because I had 'huge' ear lobes......... can you imagine how happy I was to discover.... my ear lobes were just right... there wasn't anything 'huge' about them! She had told me that my two half-sisters' ear lobes were perfect.

I would do everything I could to make all the difference while living there... none of it mattered. When I was supposed to do something... I did it right, and I did a good job. I was still unwanted by my stepmother, and two half-sisters, my father.

There was always a wall... and when sometimes us three sisters would break through that wall and really begin communicating... trusting, liking each other... the next thing I would see would be their eyes staring at me, no smiles anymore. My stepmother was responsible.

Each time we'd become friends... that would happen. I would see those cold stares that seemed to accuse me of doing something wrong. What did I do wrong, I wondered that many times while living there. Those stares hurt me to my very soul... my daddy looked at me like that.

The only person smiling at me all the time was ... my stepmother. Maybe because she 'was in control'... she was behind the scenes manipulating all to her liking. She smiled because.... 'maybe' no one was the wiser.

Unknowingly, she did that at the end of her life, when I was going through a life-threatening illness... non-Hodgkins lymphoma. She would call Skip and keep up on my progress, she would tell him to not 'let Grandmother Brown know, she would worry too much'. She said 'she'd tell her in a way so, she wouldn't be upset'...........

Skip, not knowing her at all, listened to her. She was letting my Grandmother Lola think I was dying. I was close to death but, she didn't bother to tell her how I began to get better.

It forever changed alot of things, promises to me, my son, my grandchildren... and how I felt about my Grandmother Lola after she died. My step-mother was 'in control and manipulating' again.... she came out the winner.... but, at the end....

She was diagnosed with cancer, and as I got better... her condition worsened... Skip and I had opportunity to go see her... take her out to eat... she couldn't eat anything. She was so thin... she knew she had cancer... she didn't tell me.

I wonder if she thought... she had met up with 'Pay Back'......... She died soon after that. The strange thing about that... it hurt me. No matter she was responsible for so much pain in my heart... I cared. I had loved her ... though she didn't treat me fairly. I wanted her approval, I wanted her love.

My Grandmother Lola died, and I went to her funeral sick, I looked so bad. I'll never forget how my two half-sisters sat back with their families... especially my youngest half-sister and her daughter-in-law who had worked in a strip club.... laughed at me.

They would run outside to smoke cigarettes, come back in with 'that stare' ... and burst out laughing at me. They seemed to be sharing a big joke... I was it. I have never forgotten that.

I wonder how they each are doing now? They laughed at me because I looked so bad... I was fighting a battle for my life... it didn't matter to them. I just sat there smiling at them kindly... I wondered 'why' they did that. Did they think they were so much better than I ... they were healthy, I had come close to dying?

Did they laugh at my face, it was red, flushed from taking the medicines I took to kill cancer cells? Did they laugh at the weight I'd gain from being on predisone? Did they laugh because for once... I looked so weak? It was really very funny to them... enough for them to look at me and ...laugh with such merriment in their eyes.... at our Grandmother Lola's funeral.

I remember asking my aunt, my daddy's only living sister... if she minded me riding with them. I wasn't feeling well at all. I felt embarassment because of how I appeared to everyone ....to be made a joke of... my heart hurt. I rode with her family to the cemetery... I don't think she wanted me to ride with them. She was 'too upper crust' to have someone who looked as pitiful as I did... to be with them. I felt very, very little.

There was a time they'd all been proud of me being with them... when I was dressed well, feeling on top of the world, not sick. People DO treat you differently when they know you are very sick... it's not nice.

They remembered last seeing me as a strong, attractive, well-dressed young woman.... not in the pitiful shape I was in. I was already self-conscious.

I understood though.... people who live in a 'beautiful' world ...hate to see ugliness come around... no matter that it's from an illness they didn't choose. No one had compassion for me on my daddy's side of the family.

It didn't matter about illness... here I was, 'looking like that'. I had the nerve.... only it wasn't nerve, it was because I loved my Grandmother Lola. She'd always been good to me.

I had driven for over an hour on the interstate in my condition to come to my Grandmother Lola's funeral. I regretted going alone... Skip was out of town. I came home broken-hearted and not as well as I was when I attended the funeral.

I learned then, of something that shocked me to my core.... my stepmother had caused to happen with making my Grandmother Lola think I was dying. My Grandmother Lola had taken life insurance out when I was a baby... all through the years she and my Aunt Patsy, my daddy's youngest sister, would tell me that 'one day I would have alot of money from that policy.... my Aunt Patsy told me she would make sure of it'.

My Aunt Patsy died, unknowingly to me, when I was also, fighting for my life. I never knew for many, many months... no one thought to tell me. I loved her with my heart... she was my protector as a young girl. She was the one I loved more than I can say.

Not only my insurance policy, but, Tommy's insurance policy, and Taban and McKenzie's insurance policy... all had been cashed in by Grandmother Lola to give away. This happened when I was 'dying'.... this happened when my stepmother said 'not to tell Grandmother Lola about Gloria Faye's condition'........

My Grandmother was almost 100 years old when that happened. She was still a beautiful woman at her age.... Skip and I went to see her often.... I was better and I wanted to see her. Just months after we began visiting her.... she died. She saw that I was living and seemed strong. She was glad to see me.

We would sit and talk on those visits... on one of the visits while I sat beside her... she turned around to look me in my face and said 'Gloria Faye, I've made a bad mistake'. She had tears in her eyes, she turned her head to look out in the yard. She began telling me things about my cousin becoming a drug addict, how her son made her so afraid. She kept talking.... about alot of things....

That day I had no idea what she meant, after her death ...her face came into my mind, I heard her voice saying again 'Gloria Faye, I've made a bad mistake'... I could see the tears in her eyes. I 'knew then'... that my stepmother had done what she set out to do.... she became a winner... she had manipulated all in her favor... again. So, did others......

A huge amount of money went to different people, toward a house... when it had been meant for me, my son, granddaughter, and later, grandson. She'd asked me through time as she added the policies ... for each of their social security numbers.

She had my social security number at birth, as my son, and each grandchild was born... she would call me to get their social security numbers for a new policy.

One day, Taban and McKenzie can know their great-great grandmother loved them and meant for them to each have money from her insurance policies... but, there was someone 'watching, manipulating, kept her finger on the pulse' the whole time.... to change everything.

I forgive her. I loved her .....though she hated me with her sweet smiles, sweet honey voice... because I was my daddy's first child... she was jealous of my mother. My daddy would come to see her when I was little, 'when he'd come to see me'.

I would see them kissing, my daddy would tell me then... 'I'll always love your mother, Faye'. Strange though..... I never recall him saying 'I love you, too'. He only told me once in my life that I remember that he loved me... he was drinking beer, then....

The strange thing as a child, those people made me think only my mother's family was 'bad'..... it took all 47 years for me to 'see'...... that my daddy's family did the same things! I can't tell you how shocked I was to learn this.... they weren't perfect. I had grown up with the impression they were.... they were so much better. This was quite another shock I suffered... I can't even describe it.

You wouldn't believe... how when my eyes opened... at how imperfect they were, too! I remember looking at Skip and saying ....'I can't believe how I grew up thinking they were so perfect'. They made me feel so inferior, my mother's family so 'low'. I smile now at how they all 'fooled me'. I was so... naive, dumb.

The things my Grandmother Lola told me... I could see some of them once she 'opened my eyes'. I learned of alcoholics, and drug abusers were also, in my daddy's family. Amazing.. unbelieveable... I thought they were perfect all those years. I say this without any sarcasm... I honestly thought that.

There were pregnancies before marriage.... I couldn't believe it when 'such a thing happened'. When we were very young, my youngest half-sister told me she was pregnant and worried about telling our daddy, and my stepmother.

'I was the one' that was told to 'never be a whore'.... and I'd be like my mother and probably get pregnant without being married. I was married when I had my child, I wasn't pregnant when I married.

Can you imagine the shock of learning such things about a family I thought was perfect? I would even wonder somehow since it 'was one of them'.... was it somehow right since 'it was they' who had done this... done that?

My stepmother has been on my mind this morning.... though I've forgiven her once I had connected the dots through time.... she's dead.... I still think about how 'slick', how 'smart' of her .... I think she was one of the greatest puppeteers ever... she knew how to 'work those strings'. She did it all with a smile, a sweet honey voice.... I can 'see' the twinkle in her eyes now. 'Now'... I know 'why' the twinkle. She was laughing all the way to the ...... bank?

I know someone else in my family got a house from our insurance money... I hope they always enjoy living in it. Strange... I don't feel anger toward her... I don't feel anything.

There were four insurance policies.... mine, Tommy's, McKenzie's, and Taban's..........

My Grandmother Lola had seven granddaughters/grandchildren. From the time we were very little 'knew' her wishes, what she had for each of us. At the time when I learned, there were only six granddaughters... I was the oldest, and the first grandchild she had.

One person watched all through the years... one person who all through the years always said .... 'don't you dare tell Grandmother Brown'! It used to make me afraid when I was living with her... her threat worked so well... that I never told my Aunt Patsy or Grandmother Lola when she mistreated me... not even once. I was so afraid of her finding out.

This morning when I was deciding what to write... this is what I've written. I guess 'it was time' to write about it... this is what my story turned out to be... I didn't know that it would. It's like when I do artwork.... 'I think I know' what I'm going to do... but, seldom does it turn out like 'I think'.... it's better.

My hat's off to you, Great Master Puppeteer........ I don't hate you, I always loved you. If I felt I didn't like you... when you smiled at me, I liked you again. You were a part of my life, too.

You, my stepmother... the greatest master puppeteer of them all. I know there are others.... too. Their manipulation was more 'silent' than yours. Yours was good... you played on my love for you, my Grandmother Lola.

The greatest master puppeteer of all... my stepmother. She did it all with the sweetest honey voice, her brown eyes so full of concern... 'that twinkle' always bothered me, though. 'Now'... I know 'why'........

MY COLORED WORDS...

MY COLORED WORDS...

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE

I look around me, all is damp and gray

I really wish for the sun, the rain to go away

I need colors, happy light

All most welcomed in my sight

Today is cloudy and gray

Taking all my colors away

I'm determined to find colors to make me smile

To bring my mood up for a while

I sit here looking outside through the open door. I see a shower of rain as it comes down, thinking if I were a child again... I'd run outside and play in it.

I would look for a pool of clear water in the lush green grass, step in and look down, enjoying how it feels and how clear the water is.

Clear water, lush green grass... I need flowers around now, colors of pink, yellow, red. Warm colors, happy colors to lighten my mood. In my mind I see golden yellow sunshine peep out from behind fluffy white clouds. How beautiful this is... my colored words have brought me cheer.

Colored words have changed my mood, now... I feel happy again, interested in doing something now, where 'before'... I sat here sad and bored.

My colored words have cheered me up. :)))

'SEEING TOMMY'...

'SEEING TOMMY'...

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE

I've been 'seeing Tommy' again. I notice that I turn to follow with my eyes long enough to 'see Tommy' for 'as long as I can'... until I realize that person doesn't look like Tommy anymore.

Yesterday I was driving by a store that we frequent ... a tall, handsome guy was walking to go inside. He had his hair cut very short like Tommy wore his, he wore his sunglasses like Tommy... he had on a tee shirt like Tommy... he held his shoulders, body straight... just like Tommy. Tommy always had 'perfect posture' and was a fine figure of a man. This guy looked like my son.

I turned my head as I drove by... 'seeing Tommy' for as long as I could. I almost ran off the road... if I had, someone may have thought 'the older woman ran off the road looking at a handsome, young man'. They would have never known that I was 'seeing Tommy'.

It hurts my heart very much, I miss my son. I told Skip just yesterday something that stays in my mind. I told him that I keep thinking about feeling I want to talk to Tommy about alot of things, I didn't get to say them all when he was living. He was gone before anyone knew it... who would have thought a young 40 year old guy would 'just die'.... just that quickly... from 2 blockages in his heart?

Tommy never got to share with me how he felt running and playing with Taban. Of course, I know in my heart... my mind alot of what he would have said. I knew my son, I knew how much he was looking forward to doing just that. It would be the very last thing he did while here.. in this world. I think about that, too.

I find myself looking for Tommy from time to time. Some days I 'see Tommy', alot. I look for as long as I can. Sometimes if the person who looks like him... were to look my way... I guess he'd see an older woman standing there with tears in her eyes, love for her son, watching him for as long as she can see him. Just trying so hard to get a glimpse of her beloved son... to see him breathing, walking, talking again... seeing him in another young man is as close as she will ever see him again. Once she thought she'd see Tommy in a little, precious boy as he grew up... too much time has gone by, her grandson has forgotten her. Now... Granny Gee looks for her son in a ... stranger.

I guess that person would know instinctively that there's something very sad about that woman if he saw her.... she isn't trying to be an 'older woman after a younger man'. It might touch his heart to be reminded of her son who died... if he had enough time to ever know. We never know what other people are thinking when we happen to see ... 'someone looking at us'.

They may be trying to 'see mama'.... 'see little John'.... 'see daddy'... or one of their most loved ones who have gone. They may have a Tommy they are trying to see.

Just for a few moments I get to see my son 'walking, talking, smiling'... I have just a few moments to 'pretend' he isn't dead... a few moments to see a living Tommy. For a few moments... I am 'Mama' again.

'Seeing Tommy'... just for a few moments I can be 'Mama' again, and .... Tommy's still here... again. I try to make those moments stretch as long as I can.

I miss seeing, hearing my own son... talking to him. All I have now are the glimpses of Tommy ... in strangers I see everywhere. When I am 'seeing Tommy'.

BRUISED AIR... COLORS OF ANGER... LIGHT OF LIFE

BRUISED AIR... COLORS OF ANGER... LIGHT OF LIFE

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/ aka GRANNY GEE

I've been thinking alot about anger lately. I know I've carried my share in my heart alot in my life. I know there are at least two things I can say for certain about... anger. I know this from experiencing it firsthand and... I've carried anger to all degrees since I was a little girl.

I didn't ever want to carry anger around with me in my life... but, so much happened in my life to build it up. Instead of striking out at others, ending up a really bad person... I kept it locked 'inside'.

Locked inside ... trying not to hurt others... but, sometimes that's not possible. I feel anger twice as much when someone provokes it from me... because I don't want to be mad at anyone.

Since I'm human, and I'm 'Gloria'... I do feel it whether I like it or not.. from time to time. Afterwards... I feel bad. I'm older now, I know this much about anger... especially the two 'sure things'....

The first being this... 'anger' is the heaviest load I've ever carried in my whole life. I've carried lots of it, I know this to be true.

The second thing being... angry words 'bruise the air' when spoken. Angry words bruise the very air around you when spoken. Haven't you ever been so angry and said many hateful things (alot you really don't mean at the time you are angry)? Haven't you felt the 'pure air around you become dark, bruised'?

Even if the anger leaves rapidly... the 'air is still bruised around you'... for some time. It's disturbing... it doesn't feel good. You keep trying to do things to make the air 'clear' again... the air 'feel good' again around you.

The next time you lose your temper... 'feel the air around you, sense it', remember what Granny Gee said. The air doesn't feel good at all from anger because words are 'slapping each other around, crashing words, exploding words, just the most awful of words'... they are fighting, they are 'bruising the very air you breathe'.

I think after reading this.... you'll never forget what I've just said. I'd never heard of 'bruised air' until the other day when I was thinking of the colors I feel inside from anger... I was trying to describe it to myself, I was thinking how awful it is to feel anger toward people in one's life.

All of a sudden... the words 'bruised air' came to my mind... I began thinking about that... in my mind I could see the air become bruised with black, violent red, lightening yellow from anger.

I thought about how even when you don't feel the anger after having harsh words... the air doesn't clear up right away. It takes time... like a bruise on one's skin.

It has to go through a 'color cycle' as it 'heals up'.... the bruise 'stays sore' during this process until... it finally goes away. I was seeing in my mind how 'ugly the colors' are on the skin as it heals... I was comparing the colors of anger with that in my mind. I determined 'the colors of anger' are ugly indeed...they are awful, they linger in the very air around one when they are mad.

I know... I've carried enough anger inside me my whole life even though... I love with my very heart most everyone, everything. I carry anger from things forced upon me as a little innocent girl to being a 'big' girl. I carry anger from the unfairness of life, people that have touched mine .... uninvited.

I carry anger from many different sources.... one being that when I'm in pain... I'm angry when I hurt. From the time I was a little girl... if someone hurt me physically... it made me angry. I would pop someone in a heartbeat until I got older... I learned to not do that.

As a young person... I would hold my ground and all it took was... someone to try and push me off from it. As young people we think we are invincible... all of us 'older people' smile now thinking about that... we all know better.

I will say this though... maybe it's a good thing that as a younger person we do think we are invincible... because we would have never accomplished alot of things 'back then' if we hadn't 'believed' it.

So... there is a time in life we 'have to believe we truly are invincible'... we learn soon enough... that we aren't. As a young person that is the farthest thing from our mind. We are strong and we will 'kick ass if need be'.....

Getting alittle older... I now think about all things, anger being one. When a person becomes older... they can 'see' differently. Though I will say sometimes.. there are people who have never tried to learn lessons from life... who go on just as blind to understanding 'the whys' of life.

They don't learn anything... their minds are forever .... dense. They only look as 'far as their nose'... narrow-minded. I am sad for them... their minds never opened enough to let the 'light of life' inside to all those dark corners in their mind. They only see the colors of ... either black or white their whole lifetime.

I don't have time to focus on what they see... I have to focus on the colors of my life. I see many happy colors... I've seen many dark colors as well. My air has been bruised from time to time in my life... alot of times from events that have taken place in my life... all uninvited.

I've had to learn 'life's lessons'.... I've had to learn to let the 'light of life' back into all those dark corners after each 'bad' thing happened in my life. I'd like to say that after many times of unhappy things happening in my life over the years.... that I 'know the drill'.... that I quickly got happy again, lost all my anger, never felt bruised air again, I was 'perfect' again.

Not so.... no, that didn't happen... ever. Granny Gee sure isn't perfect at all. She really tries but, no.... she can't ever be. She'll never try to be ... ever again in her life. That's because for several years she really tried to be... she focused on being just as perfect as one could possibly be ... to make people love her.... they did... especially when 'they could walk on her kindness'.

She dressed perfectly, she looked perfect in body... every hair in place at all times... how many times did I sleep 'perfectly' so, as not to mess a hair up or put a line in my face? I tried to never-ever say a mean word or think bad about anyone... even when I wasn't treated right. I tried to never feel anger. I put my feelings ...last.

I couldn't decide to go to the store without having to dress perfectly... I'd shower, dress, make sure all that makeup was in place.... my hair beautiful... that I looked beautiful.

I couldn't dare let anyone see me look so...... human, and imperfect. I never could relax, I never could relax because someone might 'see me as myself'! Just an ordinary girl... who was just as pretty without all of that stress of .... trying to be 'just right'.

Think about three years.... I am laughing now... at how 'dumb' I was as a younger woman some times. Anyway... I've not 'been perfect' since the day I found out that I wasn't.... when a woman said something about me, I'll never forget the shock of that.

I'll never forget Shirley, the woman who told me ....'Gloria, no matter how good you are... someone's going to say something bad about you, doesn't matter who you are'.

Thank-you, Shirley, for 'waking me up'... because in place of that 'perfect being' is now the most 'imperfect being' you've ever seen. I quit wasting my time.

I found out after that... I was liked just as well, maybe better. Though... I will admit there were some people who went into shock of not seeing 'perfect Gloria' whom they could run over top of knowing 'she wouldn't dare get mad... she's too nice to do that'!

Anger.... yes, Granny Gee still harbors anger in her heart... all the while knowing it isn't healthy, it contributes to one's health problems. The positive thing is that I am constantly 're-adjusting, rethinking' any anger there to make it less... and less.

The pain I feel in my body every moment of my life makes me feel anger... just from hurting 'always'... but, most of the time I smile. I smile until... more pain comes along from any source stretching the limit of my pain threshold that I've become used to living with. It's like ..... over-filling a glass of water.

Sometimes, though I try not to... I strike out with words when I'm in 'extra' pain.... I pay attention to myself if I ever do. I don't like those colors of anger... anymore than I like... bruised air.

I strive hard to let the light of life into my very soul... always. I'm not perfect... but, I really try. I fail alot, but, I never stop trying.... and trying ... and trying.

I don't enjoy feeling bruised air around me, nor the colors of anger... but, when the light of life enters the dark places in my heart, soul... there's no feeling like it! It's the best.

THE COLOR OF THIS STORY IS... WHITE

THE COLOR OF THIS STORY IS... WHITE

BY GLORIA FAYE BROWN BATES/aka GRANNY GEE

I sit here, my mind is a blank. I'm trying to remember back in the past to any one time when something interesting, exciting ...happened. I can't think of anything... at this moment.

Does that mean I've had such a life, one that nothing ever happened in it? Far from it... 'millions' of things have happened in my life but, for some reason, my mind has gone blank.

I feel the need to write, for the moment I have nothing to say. Strange... I feel the need to write... but... I have nothing to.. say. Does that make sense? I ... feel ...the need to ...write.... but, I have ...nothing to say!

My fingers keep typing, my mind searches at this very moment for something to write... so far... is what you see. Empty words... empty words. Think of something to write, Gloria. Let the words flow....

I may have 'writer's block'.... my fingers are trying to pull out of thin air... words, something to write about. Like when one pulls a tissue, one after the other, from a tissue box. Thoughts, and more.... thoughts!

But, at this moment, each 'tissue I pull out of the box' is... white, blank. I don't see any colors to write about. The color of this story is.... white.