When I Look Into The Mirror...

When I Look Into The Mirror ...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

This morning as I stood in front of the mirror... I began to walk away, stopped, looked back at what I saw.

The light was dim, I thought I 'saw'.... a young girl standing there.  I stepped closer to see.  Hey, that's 'me'... for a moment I saw a young girl just standing there from the past... standing there with her head tilted to one side, looking back at me.

I smiled... at myself.  I lowered my eyes to not see anymore.  I went inside myself to think about what I saw.

I 'miss myself'... I miss being a young girl.  I lifted my eyes back to the mirror and saw me as I look today.  My smile this time was a sad one... I would love to be that young girl again knowing what I know now.  How many older people have you heard say that?  Now... it's my turn to say it.  :)))

I was thinking that it's quite sad when we all grow older with such vast knowledge... and not have the chance to be young again, have the opportunity to use it.  I would love that chance.  Get to start over, make good, solid decisions.... gracious, wouldn't it be wonderful?  I know so many young people would go a long way in life if afforded another chance to start over with the knowledge gained through the years growing... older.

Don't you think it sad, too... for people 'just to grow old' until they 'are no more?'  Don't you agree that it's sad for two married people to go through so many years of ups, downs... only for one of them to lose the other?  Then to grow older without the very one person they've been closest to?  Until they ... are no more?

Sometimes when I look into the mirror expecting to see 'myself'... I am surprised.  It's not me looking back... an older lady is standing there looking back at me.  I feel a little jolt.. I'm surprised because that older lady is 'me'.... me, with young thoughts, feelings.  :)))

When I look into the mirror.... I have stood there with my cellphone camera to 'catch a glimpse of me'.... when I 'feel my younger self' I will take photos of 'me'.

The strange thing is... that the photo I take of 'me'.... doesn't look like what 'I saw' in the mirror!  There's an 'old lady' standing there in that photo!  How did that happened... an old lady shows up in my photo... and it's supposed to a photo of 'me'........  :)))

When I look into the mirror.......

Measuring Pain To See How It Feels Now...

Measuring Pain To See How It Feels Now...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Well... Thanksgiving is next week.  So far, so good.  I've been observing myself, my reactions to the upcoming holidays.  This is the third year we won't be spending holidays with Tommy.

Last year, I'm sure a lot of my readers will remember how the holidays affected me.  I think I tried to describe the grief, pain I honestly felt... my words full of pure, raw pain.  Oh my God... no one knows ....... unless they felt or is feeling... the loss of a child.

Tommy's birthday is November 20th... next Tuesday.  Thanksgiving is on the 22nd this year.  Tommy's not going to be here to spend any time with Skip and I.  Nor is his children.......

He can't, he's gone.  Tommy died May 29, 2010.  My son died May 29, 2010.  My only child is ...gone.  There's no one now, only Skip, the Pups, and I... I don't have a child anymore.  It seems I don't have grandchildren anymore, either.

I don't even know if I'm still a 'mother'... if someone ask me if I'm a mother, how do I answer that?  It's like being a 'grandmother'... I'm not either anymore, only in name.  I feel like I'm an impostor.... I don't have anybody to validate being mother, grandmother... everyone is gone.

Do you see how I have written the last paragraphs?  I have to do it that way... I have to tell myself that Tommy's gone, Tommy died.  I have to meet it head-on, face that pain.  I have to tell myself that he's gone... he died.  As I face it, it's like standing in front of a big truck... I have to step away out of its path... or it'll crush me.

I have to tell myself ... I'm never going to see my grandchildren... his son, his daughter.  Two children who look so much like him... two children who can make the sunshine come out on a cloudy day...with those 'Tommy smiles'... two children who make my heart feel such softness, love whenever I think of them.  God, how I wish to see those two dear, sweet faces, their 'Tommy' eyes... full of mischief, full of fun, just like their daddy.

It still hurts really bad... I'm feeling it deeply now, at this moment.  Writing this, making myself say it, read it... is like pulling a thick, soft curtain back that buffers me from really bad pain.  I become very upset quickly...  I mentally drop the curtain back into place quickly.  Yes, I just measured it... that pain is still there.  Yes, it still hurts me deeply.

I just took a mental measuring stick, put it into the 'fuel/pain tank' to measure the pain.  It's still full of pain, grief... it isn't anywhere near being 'empty'.  If gas in a tank of a car stayed full like this... we'd all have gas forever.

So far though... I think I'm going to be alright.  I know there are going to be times..... but, I want everything to be alright, I'm trying hard to stay 'happy'.  I'm trying to feel all the excitement I can so, I can look forward to the holidays.  I want to make all good for Skip, the Pups, and I.  I ... think I'm going to do it this time.

I'm mentally placing that thick, heavy curtain back over the 'fuel tank of pain'... I want to put all I can between myself, and that pain.  I want to make our holidays nice this year.  I don't want to make Skip sad... I don't want to be sad.   I'm determined for the holidays to be happy, at the same time, remember Tommy, Taban, and McKenzie.

I've been measuring the pain to see how it feels ... now.

Blog of the Year 2012 Award... on my Wordpress.com Blog

Blog of the Year 2012 Award..... on my Wordpress.com Blog

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

This morning I was so awed... so amazed to find out that someone gave me an award for my blog.  I just sat here... and read it several times while feeling such a quiet, heart-touching feeling inside my heart.

My thoughts were ... wow!  'Me?'  I'm not even perfect, and sometimes I use a 'bad' word when writing.... my stories aren't always happy stories... then, 'oh wow, I'm so honored anyone would think that I could be 'special enough'.... to want to give me an award.  Remember, I got several not long ago... I was so amazed just as I am ... this morning.  It means so much to me.

So, while sitting here quietly thinking, absorbing this.. I've let the feeling of this wrap around me like a welcomed warm blanket when it's so cold.  How special, how so very special.  Wow!  I say it to myself in the quietest way.  I'm just honored...

Thank you, Viveka... for giving me the Blog 2012 of the Year Award.  I love coming to your blog....  myguiltypleasures at:   http://mygulitypleasures.wordpress.com

I love the special songs that play on her blog each time I visit, her beautiful photography when she's out and about doing everyday things.  She shares her country, Sweden, on her blog.  I have a special place in my heart for Sweden.... my special systervan, Lena, lived in Sweden... she died not long after my son, Tommy died.

You can't imagine how special it was for me to become friends with Viveka at  http://mygulitypleasures.wordpress.com.  I felt an instant connection with her... we have since visited each other on our blogs, commented and talked about different things.  I'm honored to be friends with you, Viveka.

Thank you for the Blog 2012 of the Year Award from my heart.  I'm amazed my blog touched you in such a way that you wanted to give that to me.  I know for someone to make me feel I want to give them an award... some kind of special thoughts would go into it... that would mean I thought them special in such a meaningful way.  Wow... that means that somehow 'I was'.  Isn't that amazing?  :)))

When I get time I will follow the rules of receiving the special award.  I will put the logo photo on my  wordpress blog... I want to put it on my happycolorsandgrannygee.blogspot... to share, to see it.  It reaches out to me to make me feel... special.  It means the world to me.

Here's the link to the post Viveka wrote on her blog today when she gave this special award out to me, and other special blogs she found meaningful to her (Mine is ......   Gloria @ Granny's Colorful)....

Because you are a true star … have I nominated you to “ ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ – http://wp.me/p293Pw-4c9

Just click on the underlined link to go read... and listen to her special song today.  Don't forget to check out the special photos she puts with her stories.  Colorful (you all know how I love colors!), happy photos!

Here's the link to my wordpress blog....
http://grannyscolorful.wordpress.com/

Wow!  :)))  I'm amazed....

A Child Disappears... Thank You, Hell...

A Child Disappears...  Thank You, Hell...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I saw a distraught mother on the news last night.  Her little two year old son just disappeared from their yard.  She'd only taken her eyes off from him for a couple minutes.

The police, neighbors searched for hours.  This morning I watched the news to see what transpired through the night.  The little boy was found!  That little boy was... found!

Strange enough... the little boy was only a short distance away in someone else's home........ they didn't call anyone to say 'hey, I have a child that's wandered here.... I don't know where he came from'.......

I wonder if they were watching the news, saw that young mother's face, heard her voice?  I did... and it tore at my heart.  She could barely form her words for crying, fear for her child.  I wanted to reach out to hug this woman... my heart recognized sincerity.  Her child was really ...gone, unlike a lot of women I've watched closely when their children 'disappeared'.

I 'heard the 'shock, disbelief' in her voice... I 'know' how it feels to have a child gone.  I know how it feels to not know where to look, not to know if it's dead or alive.  My own experience lasted 3 years... I never knew where my child was.  Maybe one day I can write about it... it won't be anytime soon.  Don't ask me about it... I won't talk about it to anyone.

The pain has lasted through all the years... now, it's mixed with the grief of my child being gone... my child died.  Tommy's gone.  For now, I can't write anymore about this.  I could never in a million years describe the pain inside me.... it's not simply the one experience of one losing a child.......... it's a combination of many experiences that happened, then.... losing that one child.

No one will ever know.............  I don't know if my words are enough to put it all into perspective... maybe one day I can have someone help 'to write my pain'... who knows the words I don't... to describe all.

On top of this pain ..like whipped cream on a pie .. is additional pain.  Bittersweet....  My son has two children whom no one brings to see me... two mothers who have never taught their children to send even a holiday card, or to call this grandmother.

When Tommy was living, he never got a Father's Day card, Christmas card, Birthday card.... every week he faithfully paid $100.00 for his child... no one made him do it.  He did it on his own.  His child was taught to call their step-father 'daddy'... to not call Tommy... 'daddy'.  I saw the terrible pain in my child's eyes... my son... when his child would ignore him and hug everyone else ...but, him.  That child was told not to hug him, not to call him 'daddy'.

Two mothers who never told me I can't see my grandchildren .... they just never let them in our lives again.  I've had to call, feel bad, like I'm imposing, or making someone angry... through the years for the times to see them.  Those days are gone now... I will never call again.

I will say this to both mothers... you've done wrong to keep them from knowing their father's mother.  One day in time... you will most likely see how the pain you've added to my life, feels... think of me.  Also, think of my words I say to you at this moment.... "I'm so sorry you have to know my pain".

Then again............................. maybe you deserve to know what you make others feel.  We learn through ... life's lessons.  We learn through feeling what we do to others.  It doesn't feel good when it happens to you.

I won't beg either of you for anything.  I'm not angry at either of you, but... I will never forget you for the deepest of pain you've added to my heart.  I think I just said I'm not angry at you... yes, I am.  At this very moment in time, I'm very angry at both of you.  Tomorrow... I probably won't be... until the next time.

Let them explain to those grandchildren 'why' they never got to know a grandmother who always loved them.... 'why'  they kept the children of this mother's son.... away from her.  'Why' they never called and said 'hi, would you like to see your grandchild?'  Why not... at least once a year?

I'm glad I grew up in hell, survived it.  For the rest of my life.. it built a strength I never knew I had.  Thank you, Hell.... you made me so strong to go through the things I have... no one even knows... maybe one day.  

I only touch the surface when I write.... beneath is such a lake of pain that even now... I'm not sure if I could survive trying to 'swim across' again to find my stories to write.  I'm lucky I have gotten this far in my life...

Hell... I have to dive deep to grab bits to write about.  Layers of pure ... Hell.  I have to visit for short periods .... it sometimes takes time to 'come out of it'... it affects me deeply.  It's like acting... a person 'gets lost' in that character... and 'finds it hard to come out of it.'

The way it is today... I've lost my only child, and I've lost my granddaughter, I've lost my grandson.  I used to be a mother... I used to be a grandmother, and I used to be a Granny Gee.  Now... I'm mother, grandmother, Granny Gee in name only.  

Yes, I thank you, Hell.... you made me strong enough to make it through all of this.  I'm glad I have been through so much 'bad' in my whole life.... it helped make me strong today.

I'm still standing......  I don't give up hope of being grandmother, Granny Gee today.  If I don't get to be.... I keep in mind of all the many people, things I've lost in my lifetime... I'm like the redwood tree... I'm still standing, I am still here.  I've 'weathered many a storm'....

I've missed seeing, watching two young children who look so much like my child... growing up.  I have wished to see my son in his children as they talk, laugh, play.  I've wanted to watch their faces, see 'Tommy' in them.  I've looked 'for Tommy' ... just to 'see him' since he's been gone.  He is in these two precious children... I could have seen him all this time.

I have missed all of this... it can never be given back to me.  I've needed to see, hear my grandchildren during all the time my son has been gone.  I've needed to know my grandchildren.

No, I won't ever forget this... and I know the day will come for both mothers to regret not making an effort to let them know me.  Things have a way of coming back to ... bite us in the ass.  And it will....

Hell..... I know it well.  It's inside of me... grief, pain, anger.  The mixture is 'Hell'.  At this moment I 'feel' it inside myself... I feel all these emotions.  There are times such as this that I feel anger rise to the surface ...  I think about the very things I wrote here.

Anger... I've fought anger since being a little girl.  I fight it now, for the unfairness in life.  It gradually subsides until... the next time.  I forgive, I don't forget.... no one forgets.  I'm not sure anyone ever... really forgives, either.  I do, I don't, I do, I...................................

I really try to be 'perfect'... I just can't do it.  I wonder 'why' I think I should be 'the one to not feel a certain way'... why I should be the one not to hate, to be mad, or do things others do?  I slip up... and get really angry, I say 'bad' words... I feel very bad afterwards.  There have been maybe several times I 'never felt bad'... afterwards....

Getting back to the little boy who got lost.... this is what I began to think about after watching that on the news.  It's strange how our thoughts 'go everywhere' ... when triggered by events.

I began thinking of when Tommy was gone as a child... I felt that woman's pain ... as her voice tried to put into words to let the public know her child was gone... I 'felt' her fear... fear that takes away one's voice, makes one breathless...  trying to breathe for the pain.  I could feel her mind ... the thoughts flying in her mind like a bird frantically beating its wings trying to get out of a cage... yes, I 'felt' that mother's pain.  I 'know' that pain, too.....

Thank you, Hell... for making me so strong.  I'm glad I get mad sometimes... it gives me added strength to go on with life.  I just remembered something I had forgotten....

When I was very ill after being diagnosed with cancer... going through surgery, chemo treatments... Skip used to say little things to make me feel anger... to make me fight.

Later, he would tell me 'why' he said things... he didn't want me to die... he wanted my 'fighting spirit' to come out... come out it did!  He 'knew' it would... he knows 'me' very well.

I got mad... when I got mad, I got stronger.  I've always been that way!  :)))  I began to get better using anger ... I meant to get well.  I bet alot of you are this way... anger can be strength in a positive way.  I'm sorry to say... all my anger 'inside' isn't positive.  I'm not perfect at all.  But, it works in a positive way, too.

Okay... back to that little boy who got missing.  How did that child get into an apartment within seeing distance of where it disappeared?  Who were the adults in that apartment?  Why didn't they report that they had the child?

One knows the child didn't belong there... surely they knew it better than anyone else... 'hey, this child isn't ours... how did it get in our home?"  Why didn't they call the police... or look outside to see the commotion going on?

Maybe the little two year old boy forced his way into their apartment, you know... maybe a home invasion to steal some milk or something.  No... that little boy didn't go into that apartment by himself... I paid attention to the outside door when it was shown on the news......

So far, the police aren't saying how the child came to be in that apartment for.... get this... seven (7) hours.  Within.... seeing distance of where the child disappeared from.

This mother has gone through Hell... we all experience Hell in different ways.  I really am sorry for this mother.... her eyes, her eyes.  I saw her eyes.... I 'knew' that look.... she was looking inside so hard, so fast... trying to see in her mind where, how could her child have disappeared so quickly.  The fear, shock, disbelief was getting in her way.. she couldn't see past it all... her mind was numb.  I'm so thankful her child was found.

This reminded me of some of the Hell I've known... the Hell that made me stronger... strong enough to survive so many deaths of loved ones, the death of my only child, the loss of so much in life, the 'bad' things that have happened in my life, the abuse... verbally, mentally in my life as a child, a young woman... so much that no one knows.

Thank you, Hell... you only made me stronger.  Not only that... anger has given me strength... positive strength.  Sometimes ... I still get mad... I'm not perfect... so sometimes, I'm not positive though... I try to be.

Sometimes... I say a 'bad' word..... maybe more than... one.  Maybe more than ...two.  I'm always so sorry afterwards... and ashamed.  Sometimes... I wish I wasn't... but, that's just the way I am.  I care... I want to be a good person... I really try.  I am... but, I can be mean ... sometimes.  I try not to be any meaner than I 'have to be'....

Thank you, Hell... you made me strong enough to come this far in life.  If I were babied, treated well through all those years... I would have died young.  I wouldn't have been strong enough, or have enough anger to fuel me to get through bad times........

I Couldn't See Pain In My Reflection Today In The Glass Doors...

I Couldn't See Pain In My Reflection Today In The Glass Doors...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Skip and I were walking up steps today, when my attention was caught by the reflection of us in the glass doors ahead.  I watched us as we continued to walk toward them.

It came to me something so amazing... I'd never thought about it before.  I was thinking as we talked, laughed, about the terrible pain in my body that I live with constantly.  Each step I took up those steps hurt badly... but, in the reflection of me.... I couldn't see it!

I was thinking about how one can laugh, talk and no one ever see the pain, agony we are in.  When we look at each other we don't see what's inside the other... it's like our reflection in the glass today.  Our reflection, how we appeared in it... looked so happy, so normal.

It's the same with one being filled with grief... one never sees 'how full' I am of grief... like a full glass of water.  I couldn't see it in the reflection just as I couldn't see the pain.

I'm glad my reflection seemed normal... no one needs to know about the pain.  It's my burden I alone, have to bear.  It's a part of the rest of my life.  It's like the grief I carry inside... it's there for the rest of my life... but, no one has to see it, hear it, know about it in everyday life.

If one reads it here, it's because 'they want to'... I didn't force them to.  In everyday life I won't talk about it... I'm going to laugh, talk as much as possible.  :)))  I'm going to try to present myself as that person I saw today... I couldn't see the pain in my reflection today in the glass doors.

Dog Bite... Who Is Responsible?

Dog Bite... Who Is Responsible?
(This is based on a true story in North Carolina  ......   )


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

She drove into the driveway from the road, she had an idea of how to get extra money.  She had worked for the postal service for many years, yet... she still needed money.  She and her husband had a habit they needed to support.

It had begun pouring down rain... obscuring view of a sign on the end of the fence.  She stopped on the side of the fence, not seeing the sign there... either.  It was pouring down rain, but... she was desperate.  If her plan worked ... she might have some money before she left here.

She sat there looking straight ahead for a moment... not seeing the sign on the shed in front of her.  She had her mind on ... pulling a scam.  She took a deep breath and opened her door... God, she hated to get her hair wet!

As she began to get out, the woman who lived there came out of the door quickly.  "Don't come near that fence, don't come near that fence!"  The mail woman decided to ignore the warning... this wouldn't do, she had to go to the fence to succeed in her plan.

The woman reached inside the door, her hand came out with an umbrella.  "I'll come to the gate!"  As the woman walked down the steps, walked quickly toward the gate, she yelled at the mailwoman who was insistent on going straight to the fence.  "Don't put your hands near that fence!"

A medium-size dog was jumping up and down like a jumping jack at the fence, barking at the mailwoman.  He didn't look very threatening, her scam was going to work.  No one would take the word of the woman ... they'd take her word because she was a .... mail woman.  A Federal employee.....  and she needed extra money, and this woman was going to give it to her!

The woman yelled out once again, but... the mail woman wasn't listening... she deliberately stuck her hand out, not seeing the sign she put her hand over... the sign she'd park alongside  of... the sign her door opened right to.  Any fool would have seen it...................

When the woman yelled the second time, lunged forward to push the mail woman's hand back.... it was too late.  The dog had nipped the mail woman's hand.

The woman quickly walked out of the gate to go to the mail woman.  What she saw next shocked, surprised her.  She 'knew' something wasn't right... the mail woman 'began having a heart attack', she began acting very strange.

The mail woman began talking in a theatrical voice saying "I've been bitten by a dog!  I've been bitten by a dog!"  The woman took her hand, was further amazed.  There was only a little place there... the skin was broken but, it wasn't a bad bite.  She asked the mail woman 'why?' was she acting like that.

The mail woman wouldn't answer.  The woman told her that she would call the rescue.  The mail woman screamed at her, "don't call anyone!"  She got in her mail car, and sat back against the seat letting her head loll around, began 'having a heart attack again'.

The woman asked her if she could put alcohol or something on her wound.  Thankfully, the mail woman told her 'no', because it would have gotten her into trouble later.

The mail woman wouldn't speak to the woman, she just wanted to lay back against her seat 'having a heart attack'.  The woman had been talking to her husband on her cellphone the whole time... she told him that the mail woman didn't want her to call anyone.  She told her husband that she wanted someone there, something just didn't feel right.

After fifteen minutes, the mail woman still 'having a heart attack' in her car, telling her to not call anyone, and not to worry, she wasn't going to sue her for her dog biting her!  When she said that... the woman 'knew' she was right that there's something wrong with this mail woman.

The woman told her husband to hang up, call her back in a few minutes.  She wanted to take a couple of photos of their fence and the position of the car.... the mail woman became angry when she saw her taking the photos.

The mail  woman became angrier when she told her she 'was' going to call someone.  The woman called the sheriff's office and told the dispatcher what had happened, she asked for someone to come out there to be with her.  She told the dispatcher that the mail woman wouldn't let her call the rescue, wouldn't leave.... only lay back in her car like she was having a heart attack.

While she talked within earshot of the mail woman... the mail woman finally called someone... her boss.  Shortly after her boss came, talked to her and took photos.  The woman asked her if she took photos of the signs on the fence... the boss nodded her head with a little smile in her eyes, affirming that she had.

While this was going on, the woman noticed the mail woman no longer acted like she was having a heart attack, neither was she all against her back seat 'having a heart attack'.  This led the woman to believe that this could have been a scam.  'Why', she wondered?

She told the mail woman that the person at the sheriff's department said to stay there, unless she wanted to leave for the hospital.  She also, said that the animal control would be there in fifteen minutes.  She left going in the opposite direction of the hospital.

"Damn b_____!"  Her scam didn't work!  That woman was supposed to have been afraid, began offering her money right away to not tell anyone!  It had worked several times before.... "no, she had to call someone!"

The animal control officer came and stayed for some time, observing the two dogs that were inside their fenced-in yard.  He took note of all the 'Beware of Dog' signs every so many feet on their fence.

He listened as the woman quietly told him what happened, showed him where the mail woman parked in front of the 'Beware of Dog' sign... where she got out of her vehicle in front of that same sign .... where she reached over that fence to give a little box that would have fit into the mailbox.

As he looked around, he saw the No Trespassing signs on the property.  All the while he watched the woman's dogs.  Those aren't dangerous dogs, that dog was only protecting you.  As for the other dog, all he wants to do is play.

He sadly informed the woman that her dog would have to be quarantined for ten days, regardless.  The woman showed him the certificate of proof of the dog's rabies vaccination.

When the animal control man left.. the woman was in a deep study.  She kept replaying all that happened.... that mail woman had touched her life by walking past an invisible boundary she shouldn't have crossed.

She disobeyed the signs on the fence, she disregarded her when she kept yelling at her to not come near the fence, not put her hand over that fence.  To think that at first, she thought she was being rude for yelling at that mail woman.

She called her husband back... she told him she felt that mail woman came to the fence with ill-intentions.   Of course, she can't prove that... nor would anyone take her word over a postal employee.

Several weeks later, the woman received a letter in the mail from the postal service stating that she would be responsible for paying for the woman's dog bite, and any other expenses incurred.

Needless to say.. the woman was so upset.  Her world had been violated, her dogs should have been safe in their own fenced-in yard... there were signs all around it.  There were no-trespassing signs all around.

She wondered if she went to someone's house, ignored their signs and let herself get bitten by their dogs.... would they have to pay her a huge sum of money?  It just didn't make sense.... isn't that 'why' people have signs?  What else can one do to protect their home, property, pets?

This is a true story...

I Was On The Inside Looking Out... Folger's Coffee And Ms Nancy, Hope

I Was On The Inside Looking Out ...  Folger's Coffee And Ms Nancy, Hope...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Coffee...  I was thinking this morning what could I write about that is 'important'.  I was pouring myself a cup of hot coffee... only add cream to make it light... it's perfect for me.  I rarely take sweetener in it.. and then, it'd be only a little pink spoon of Sweet 'n Low.  

It came to me that 'Coffee' is very important in my life... and I'm not even a big coffee-drinker.  I average 1-2 cups some mornings, no coffee other mornings.  It doesn't matter.

Skip is the coffee-drinker here.  He loves his coffee.  Lately, the coffee has been too weak, even I've noticed it.  It seems our coffee at home has been too weak (my fault... who am I to know how to make good coffee?  :)))  We have stopped when out to purchase cups of coffee... guess what?  Their coffee was .... weaker than the coffee I made at home.

So, even not being a big coffee-drinker... I've been 'craving' a good cup of coffee.  I guess it adds up for me after a time of not drinking at least one 'good cup of coffee'.

The coffee this morning... well, it's so wonderfully good!  We went back to our favorite brand yesterday... Folger's coffee... the coffee is so good, so..... welcomed!

Folger's coffee .... is important to me.  In several ways because first of all, it's our favorite.  It taste very good, rich but, not too rich.  'Now' since December 28, 2004... it became most important and special to me.  Why in the world would coffee after all these years become so much more important?

Well, that day.... that momentous day... something awful happened in our life.  That morning when I got up early, took my shower, dressed,  I stopped at the bedroom door to tell Skip and our Pups, 'then' ... goodbye.  

I turned to go out the back door when my eye caught a 'red glow'.  A red glow?  My mind felt confused and as I turned to look behind me... I saw in the window a big, red glow and... "Skip!  Skip!  The house is on fire!"

That day was a blur as I stood there watching everything go up in smoke.  That big two-story house burned everything we had, in it.  Things we treasured, somehow held onto through the years burned.  

Tommy's scuba diving equipment, his old coin collection, his knife collection burned.  All of our clothes, shoes.... everything was gone that wasn't on our back.  I had a collection of Ty Beanie Babies ... we had.............. we lost so much in that fire.  

We lost all the Christmas presents we had for McKenzie, our granddaughter.  We hadn't seen her to give them to her.  

We lost.......................................................... everything.  We only had what we wore that morning on.  We had... our Pups, our vehicles.  Thank God.

Our three Pups were safe... when I screamed to Skip that the house was on fire, I immediately went into action.  I put our Mr. Fairchild (our Rottweiler who lived to be eleven years old), and our father and son Basset Hounds, Gloria's Garraway and Chadwick Elsworth, into my Expedition.  Our Basset Hounds lived to be fourteen, and thirteen years old.

I vaguely remember pain from lifting, half-carrying them, putting them into my truck.  I meant to save our Pups, I knew Skip would put the fire out.  We had fire extinguishers.

I ran back to help, couldn't find Skip.  Skip had gone back inside the house, got lost coming back out.  Later, I found out ... Skip could have died in there.  How many people come back out of a burning house?

Our neighbors voice guided Skip back out of the house through the smoke, fire.  He had gotten burned on his hand.  He had breathed a lot of smoke.  

Our world went up in flames.... my mind was numb as I stood off from people, watching.  I remember just staring through my shocked eyes... seeing those scary flames.  I knew if we'd been asleep... we would have been burned trying to get out... or worse.  We had three big Pups we would have died for to save them.

Tommy was at his girlfriend's house, she later became his wife... Taban's mother.  At that time she cared for us, loved us.... she was a special person to us.  We loved her... we'll always love her just as we'll always love... McKenzie's mother.  We love her step-father... Tommy had a lot of respect for McKenzie's step-father.

Through the following days I saw her sitting on the cold ground cleaning things she found in the debris, sitting there cross-legged.  She cared that much... through the shock I took notice.  I knew her fingers were so cold, they were black with soot.  It was so very cold, later ... my fingers became frozen trying to savage anything from all the rubble.  

I remember one day I was back at the house, I was so cold, my hands were freezing... a man came by to speak to me.  He must have noticed my hands... he went to his truck, came back and handed me a pair of camouflage gloves that were new.  He told me to put them on to keep my hands warm.  I appreciated those gloves very much.  I never forgot him for that.

There are so many fleeting images, moments in my mind at that time but, I couldn't focus on any one.  The shock I was in was like if one was standing still as.... everything began to pass them by..... you only catch fleeting sounds, voices talking, brief glimpses of faces... you can't 'see just one'... you can't focus on any one thing.  Your mind, your brain is in a panic... only at moments can one get it together only to fall back into... pure shock.

I am looking back to that day... I remember my little brother, Rick-Rick's face suddenly in front of me... his face ... he was crying for me, for us.  He was telling me he was so sorry our house was burning.  I remember I was so sad looking at my brother crying... he was all to pieces.  I can't remember how I looked.......... I was on the inside looking out.

The lady who lived beside us... we loved her dearly.  She and her husband had become very close to us.  He had died only months prior to the house fire.  

I could hear her voice, she was crying for us... I remember turning around, putting my arms around her, petting her shoulder ... telling her "everything is going to be all right, everything is going to be all right."  She was so fragile, my heart hurt for her.  Her husband, best friend had died.... now this.  

She used to speak of that later... she would say "Gloria, you turned around and hugged me when your home was burning down, and told me ... everything was going to be all right."  I think when I did that I was trying to reassure both of us.......  I know I was worried for her, she'd just been through so much.

That evening late, we were getting ready to leave to go to the motel the Red Cross had found for us.  We were so cold, our Pups were cold.  Our neighbor had let them be in an extra fence he had, that day.  I remember I wanted to clean it before we left, he said not to worry about it.  I appreciated so much our Pups being safe, I didn't want to leave a mess.

Before we left... Ms Nancy came driving up.  She had something for us.  Do you know she had a coffee pot, and Folger's coffee for us?  She gave us something warm to drink, something warm to hold onto.

That coffee was so special... think about how when 'bad things happen'.... you will see hot coffee somewhere close by.  'Now', I know 'why'.......... in my own words 'it's something warm to drink, something warm to hold onto'........ I will say one more of my words to describe hot coffee at a time like that..... 'hope'.

So, you can see why coffee is so important even to me, a 'not so big' coffee-drinker.  Ms Nancy and that Folger's coffee.... I'll never forget her for that.... she'll never know really how that night following the fire.... that coffee soothed, comforted us.  It meant the world to us.  I love you, Ms Nancy.

Coffee was so important to me... as I stood there 'on the inside looking out.'  Hope was in my hands, symbolized by a cup of Folger's coffee, warm and alive.

I'm Stronger Than Strong...

I'm More Stronger Than Strong...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I took my right shoe off... blood has stained the inside of my shoe.  It felt awful to pull my shoe off my foot.  I knew my left shoe was the same.  My heels were bleeding from the nails in the heel of each shoe.

I had to walk to and from school, up and down halls, out on the playground in those shoes.  Oh... they looked pretty on the outside so, no one knew the agony that shared my shoes with my little feet.

I had gone to hell to live but, I didn't know it.  My life had changed drastically but, how does a little girl know the words to describe how it had changed.  I just knew there was so much pain, both mentally, physically... I was always hurting one way or the other.

It's like today with the physical pain I live with everyday of my life from past surgeries... I have learned to live with it because I've always known pain.  I don't take pain relievers, I face it head-on.  Whenever I do take an over-the-counter pain reliever... I'm desperate.

I know as long as I hurt, I'm living.  I'm fortunate to be living so, that is my trade-off for life.  I can bear it.  This pain has been here since 1998 when I had my first major surgery.

I never complained as a little girl, I didn't know how to complain, I didn't know the word 'complain'.  I did know how to cry, lots of times I cried secretly... no one cared, no one ever noticed me.  I was one of many children around... the other children had both mother and father, I had ... no one.

I did begin to hear of a mysterious father that was 'mine' at the age of nine years old.  I learned the man I called 'daddy' wasn't my daddy at all.  He whipped me with long switches... though I remember when my cousin pushed me into a ditch, cutting the back of my leg badly.... my 'daddy' carried me whenever we went places... I had a cast on.

I carry that big scar even now.  Sometimes my fingers trace it.... I have a lot of scars that my fingers can't trace... I can't see them, but, I know they are there on the inside.

I also, learned that all the people who knew my  real father disliked him... that meant I learned how it felt to resemble him... I was slapped in the face often... because my expressions somehow looked like his.  I didn't know how to prevent that.  He never knew how I was punished often for just 'looking like' him.  I should have hated him as a little girl...... I wish I'd never known him in later years.

Ever so often ... I'd hear the soft, quiet voice of my Aunt Frankie whisper good things to me when she'd visit.  She'd tell me that she knew it was bad now, but... one day I would grow up, make my life good.

I always heard her soft, quiet voice over the screaming, cussing all around me... I would sit quietly with tears streaming down my little girl face.  She would gently hug me, walk out the door, leave.  She would have to leave, because someone would want to physically fight her.... she only tried to be as good as she could.  No one liked that....

She was always the 'different one'... just as in later years I grew up to be the 'different one'.  No one likes people who try to be good, to do the best they can.  Everyone loves a ____ up... whenever I made mistakes ... I was cared about.

Whenever I succeeded.. everyone acted like they didn't notice.  No one gave credit.... life was like that, I learned to keep things to myself.

I would have been cared about if I drank, did drugs, and was weak, dependent.  I was none of those things... I held my ground because I knew if I didn't, I would be at the 'mercy of the world'.  I would have never survived.

It took many years to become 'this strong'..... and truthfully, I am still weak... but, most strong at the same time.  Look at what I have survived.... and no one knows the half of it.  I haven't even begun to write... just yet.

I have a hard time going back into the past.... so much pain.  The pain of so many times is like so many road blocks... I am having to weave in and out of them, trying to take detours and getting lost on the way to get to things I want to write about.  I won't give up... I have so much to say.

Pain... I know all kinds of pain.  It has been a part of my life since I can remember.  I know I am not the only one in my family who has hurt, suffered so much as a child, as an adult..... but, I am the only one who can tell 'my' own pain.  No one can do it for me... I can't do it for anyone else in my family.  We all have our own stories.... I will keep writing mine.

I was just thinking I do know a lot of my relatives do know a lot of pain.... some were in the same situation I was in.  I don't forget any of them in my mind... we all suffered in some fashion.  Some more than others.  Mine was 'more'..... I lived it.

I don't run from pain... if it's going to hurt, you won't see me back up... if I know I have to face it... I will come toward it, hold my ground.  I won't be intimidated.  The only time I tried to 'hide' from the pain, didn't want to know it, didn't want to feel it was when Tommy died.  Oh God... Tommy died... it's hard for me to still believe......

See, how I still react to 'facing my son's death'?  Sometimes, I just stop and ..... listen to my mouth actually say those words.  It does hurt me so much.  Sometimes, I have to say it aloud.... I have to face it no matter how much it hurts.

No matter what.... I have to live with pain the rest of my life... if I want to live.  I've come this far to 'now'.... I've made it this long... so, I am 'this much strong'.  I'm more stronger than strong....

Death Looked For Me... I Ran...

Death Looked For Me, I Ran ...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Oh!  My mind screamed out as I stood there watching in horror.  No!  No!  No!

I watched as the big, red pickup drove across the road I stood on... I was standing in the road looking downhill.  I could hear the motor... I was listening to it.  The motor sounded 'beautiful'.

I never saw the person that must have been standing there.  I did see the person just as the pickup truck hit them, the body crumpling to the ground.  Oh no, no, no!

At first I thought my eyes were tricking me... I was leaning forward, squinting my eyes to see better.  I saw it move!  It was a person!  A person in a red suit, with white trim (it sort of looked like a... Santa Claus suit!)

I wanted to run down to help him, but... the sound of the pickup truck's motor attracted my attention.  Oh my God!  They see me!  They are coming for me now!  I ran as hard as I possibly could into the warehouse nearest to me.

I ran as deeply into it as I could... the lighting was poor inside.  That's the way old warehouses are... I've been in a million of them.  Sometimes, they are just dark.

I was feeling my way frantically looking for a door to any kind of a room... a hiding place.  I wanted to use my cellphone to call for help!  I hoped I'd get a signal....

I found a door ... I took notice it was a solid, metal door.... thank God!  I quickly went inside the dark room, closed the door quickly, quietly.  I locked the door handle when I felt the button on the knob.  I waited.....  and I waited.  The quietness was deafening!

"Skip, please come to get me... please drive close to the door so,that I can jump into the big truck quickly!"  I had called Skip, told him about the big, red pickup so, he could watch out for it.  I felt the people in the pickup wouldn't suspect I was traveling in a big rig, a tractor-trailer.

I unlocked the metal door, opened it quietly... stepped out little by little.  I wanted to get to the warehouse door that opened to the outside.  I never heard anyone entering after I ran inside to hide.. I wasn't taking any chances!

I tiptoed quietly, tried to stay hidden behind the many poles, stacks of pallets, cardboard, jars, boxes.  I saw the door after what must have been 'forever'... in the near distance.  I heard the recognizable sound of the motor ... the tractor-trailer as it stopped outside the door!

Skip is here!  I hurried to the door, opened it to see Skip motioning for me to get in, saying 'let's go!'  I ran to the other side, opened the door, climbed up the two steps leading to the inside.  As I got inside I welcomed the warmth of the heater that was going full blast.... Skip began moving the truck, double-clutching each time just after he changed a gear.....

I saw.... the big, red pickup truck up ahead.  I began shaking, my heart was in my throat... I ducked down as I crept to the huge sleeper in the tractor-trailer.  I gently pulled the curtain so, I wouldn't be seen from the windshield.  I watched......

Skip drove behind the truck ... it seemed forever before it finally gave a signal to turn off onto another road to the right.  I sighed a breath of air... relief from holding my breath so long.

I worried about the person in the red suit, hoped that the rescue had gotten there quickly before... the red pickup thought to come back for them.  I knew the person was still alive, I just didn't know how badly they were hurt.

I had called 911 from the warehouse phone my hands discovered on what felt like a desk in the cold, dark room I hid in earlier.  I told them what I saw, asked them to please call the police to come.  I told them I was so afraid.. the big, red pickup was hunting for me.

Skip asked me did I want to go back.  I looked at him for several moments and said, "please take me away from here, I can't go back!"  I didn't want the people in the big, red pickup to know 'who' I was.  I was too afraid.

We drove onto the interstate in that big rig.... I had buckled myself in.  I laid my head against the back of my seat, tears fell from my eyes, I kept taking soft breaths to relax myself.  I was coming down from the 'fight or flight' mode I'd been in.  I wrapped my arms around myself as my body began to tremble....

I held onto myself tightly, my eyes closed, as my hands kept rubbing the outside of my upper arms.  I had come close to death this night...  something touched my life that I had no control over.

This was something I had been talking about to Skip not long ago.... how 'other people could touch one's life when you mind your own business, take care of your own life... no matter if you stayed to yourself'.

I woke up... so glad to be in my bed... I looked around me to see Skip sleeping peacefully, Kissy and Chadwick were snuggled to him.  I lay alone on my side.... my covers half off me.  No wonder I was cold, trembling... no covers on me, we keep the heat very low at night.

I wished for the Pups to come lay on my feet to warm me, now!  :)))  I smiled as I arranged my bedcovers back over me, I laid my head gently on my pillow... snuggled up to my soft blankets and... went back to sleep.  I'm so glad this was a... dream!

The Tea Is Only Two Days Old...

The Tea Is Only Two Days Old...

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I don't believe it... I shake my head and look at Skip.  There's something not right... this is a Chinese restaurant.  This is the first time I've eaten at a Chinese restaurant that did this!  We have eaten in many, many of them all over the United States.

The waiter brought our bowls of wonton soup in pretty spring-green bowls sitting on spring-green saucers.  It was so hot... I love hot food.  We knew we were going to enjoy it.....

What the heck.... something's not right about those wontons!  I begin to cut them apart to see what was different.  Do you know what?  The wontons didn't have any meat filling in them!  The soup didn't have any scallions... also, I suspected they used broth to make the soup.

Skip and I began drinking from the glasses of tea the waiter brought... oh my God.  The tea was 'spoiled', it tasted awful.  We got the attention of the girl waiting tables, asked her to bring us a drink instead, we couldn't drink the tea.

The girl smelled the tea, she said it smelled awful.  She told another waitress.  She came to the table to tell us that the tea wasn't good, she brought drinks to us.

She also, talked to us.  She said the tea was 'just made on Tuesday', it shouldn't be spoiled today (Thursday).  I don't know about you... I don't drink tea that is two days old.

We talked to the male waiter... I asked him 'why' there wasn't pork meat filling in the wontons.  He said he didn't know, he'd been there for six months and they served the wonton soup like that.

We asked him 'why' couldn't we order 'shrimp chow mein'... he said they'd quit making that dish just before he came.  He had no idea 'why' the wonton soup was like it was, 'why' they didn't make shrimp chow mein now.  He said that they were told to use one tea bag to make the tea like that... and two days wasn't too long to keep it.

We did enjoy the dishes we ordered... so, all wasn't lost.  When we paid for our meal, the woman at the register asked us how was everything.  I decided to tell her the truth in a nice way... well, she became defensive, wanted to argue with me saying that really the tea was good, it was only two days old.

I wasn't going to let that escalate into something ugly... I told her that she shouldn't argue with a customer whenever they tried to tell her about their dining experience.... especially after she'd asked them.  We paid her, left the restaurant.

Needless to say... we won't go back to that restaurant again.  It's a beautiful restaurant... for some time now, things have changed there.  Things such as the waitresses walking outside the glass doors to smoke, come back in and go to someone's table, pick up glasses they are drinking from ... to take them to refill them.  No one had thought of .... simply washing their hands first.  I'm always the one to see such things as this.

Once we went there for lunch, our waitress said she'd just gotten there.  Her clothes were really dirty... like maybe she had worn them the last time she worked.  They were also, wrinkled.

We've given the restaurant a lot of chances... this was the last today.  There were more things I haven't mentioned, I don't think there's any need to.

Goodbye Chinese restaurant... we didn't see any Chinese people working in there... maybe that's 'why' a lot of things.  Who ever heard of a Chinese restaurant serving wonton soup without meat filling in the wontons... not making shrimp chow mein?

I have to say this much... it's sometimes hard to find good tea in a lot of Chinese restaurants... so, that didn't bother us.