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I love you more than you will ever know!
I believe in the power of prayer. I have seen too many things in my lifetime that proves there is. On this date, I am asking that everyone pray for my father, Lee Van Hayes. He received some extremely bad news from his doctor today. I think we were all expecting it, even dad, but hearing those words are not easy. WordPress Blogs are full of love and kindness, with a few freaky things added in. I’d love it if I could take my computer to Pop and show him all the well wishes received from my fellow bloggers.
WordPress reaches tons of people. It would be such a wondrous thing to get at least half the people, in our blogosphere, saying a little prayer for one special man. I know he is not special to everyone, but he is to my family and his friends. My dad doesn’t meet strangers, he likes everyone. He is just the biggest sweetheart on earth! My family, as well as Barry and I would greatly appreciate any small wish of good health or just a hope you are feeling better soon.
We are to the point that prayer is the answer. Dad is in God‘s hands and he will take care of him. Thank you in advance for anything you say!
If my comments section is not working yet, please use the email available for my blog: geegeebear3@gmail.com.
Have a bless day!
Barry and Jill
and the family of LeeVan Hayes
English: The logo of the blogging software WordPress. Deutsch: WordPress Logo 中文: WordPress Logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
This is reblogged from earlier this last month. The part about Barry, my husband is new. The Two Important Fathers in my Life! All fathers are important, these are just the two big guys in my life.
I speak a lot about my mother and the rest of my family, while Pop sits quietly in the background. He has always been quiet, but he is always there. Ready when you need him. He gives great hugs!
My mom and Pop divorced over 20 years ago. Daddy was head over heels in love with mom, but she just could not be happy. I’m not sure mom knows how to be happy.
Pop is a sweet, sensitive man that likes to stay busy. His body is breaking down and he still wants to go. My sisters and I just want uim to take a little better care of himself in the process.
Growing up, Pop would be gone when we got up in the mornings and did not get home until we were in bed asleep. He made sure we spent time together on the weekends. We picniced and went fishing a lot. I still love it today.
He and mom planted a garden yearly. Our punishment during the summer month was weeding the garden.
Each one of us does some form of gardening today.
With Pop working so much, I wasn’t sure how he felt about us or if he knew we were alive. It was my childish mind not understanding, he was out working his hiney off, so that we could live the life we were living. We vacationed 2 weeks at the beach every summer, when I wanted knew clothes all I did was ask.
I can remember the first time my daddy told me he thought I was pretty. I was ready to go to a dance, all dressed up in my 80’s garb. Homecoming dance, I think. Pop came in from work early. He walked over and kissed me on the cheek. Then said, “I think I just realized how pretty you are. Have great time tonight, honey.” I had to redo my makeup. But it is a moment with my daddy, I’ll always remember.
HAPPY FATHER’ S DAY, POP! You are the best!
Now to my sweet husband. He is a father. He has a son from his first marriage. When Barry and I met, Frank was in High School. When we married, Frank was not happy and has not made life easy for himself or us, including his own mother.
It didn’t matter what I attempted to do, Frank decided long ago he did not want me as part of his life and did everything possible to get rid of me. It has been his choice to not be part of our lives. I feel horrible, if it is my fault. But it has been his choices and actions that has gotten us to where we are today. I truly wish something could be done. Barry and I pray for him nightly! Hopefully as he grows up a little more, things will change. Both Barry and he deserve better!
Barry is warm, caring, giving, highly-intelligent and loving man. Frank’s mom suffered from health issues after his birth, so Barry was in charge of 90% of the raising. Most of us are either a lot like our mother or father. Frank looks just like his father, but has his mother’s personality. That is as far as I go on this topic.
I do not know what words to say, to make this day easier.
HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, HONEY! You are the best!
Love you guys, Jill Baynes, your daughter, Jill and Barry, your wife, Jill (in case you forgot my name)
While mowing the grass yesterday, I was unable to make a sharp turn and I think I hit Mom’s pineapple tree she is attempting to grow in our Georgia red clay!
While discussing that I may have hit it with her, she appeared a little sleepy. I was attempting to apologize, when Mom looked at me funny. I asked what was wrong and she asked me why I was in her refrigerator with the lawnmower. Then proceeded tomtell me to leave her pineapple alone. She told me she was trying to grow her own, but it might take awhile.
It was like the light bulb over her head turned on and shebstarted lsughing. She then asked where thst came from and requested we get her home quick. She said she needed to nap badly. Two minutes later, she was sound asleep.
I just love that goofy women!
Jill and Barry Baynes
Mom is struggling.
She regrets so much in life
She is worried about her husband, but the home wasn’t safe for either of them to live.
Sleep with a gun on your bedside table, not feeling comfortable in your home or around your husband’s family.
She doesn’t understand why her problem started.
Bipolar Disease and Lewy Body Dementia?
I’m not sick, where did this come from?
The doctors have spoken with her, but her brain can no longer fully understand.
Feels like the old her is slipping away.
Fighting her independence, fear slipping in.
The unknown is scary.
Accepting her daughters and son-in-laws as caregivers and protectors.
Barry and I are helpful and supportive, she doesn’tbknow how to accept assistance or be humble when needed,
This is not the way it should go.
She dreads becoming a burden, even though everyone tells her she isn’t, We also love her dearly.
She feels like nothing is wrong, until the terror sets in at night.
Hallucinations and living out dreams with family long gone.
Should be scary, but she enjoys seeing her visitors.
Mom hates medication, but it is working beautifully. Big improvementd, no more driving.
She’ll adapt, she didn’t need to drive anyway. She used to be a wee-bit scary behind the wheel
Life with mom, our big adventure.
Before I write this, I want everyone to know every word is TRUE! The sad thing is, this is only one story of many I could tell.
My name is Jill. I am the middle child of three girls. My sisters and I are close. We had to be close growing up. Mom was a little hard to deal with when we were kids. It wasn’t until recently, that we have started to understand mom’s behavior as we grew-up.
Growing up, I worshiped my older sister. I followed her everywhere. I didn’t let her out of my sight for long. When I started my cycle, 2 weeks after Sandy, mom started telling everyone; “Jill never could let Sandy do anything by herself.” I was eight years old and Sandy was 11. At this point, Kristie was young enough not to care about anything her older sisters and what they were doing. She was too busy growing up.
We grew up in a small town in the days when it was OK to leave kids at the movies, mall (actually I’m not sure we had a local mall yet), or skating rink without grown-up supervision. When mom and dad left us on our own, Sandy took on the role of protector. She watched Kristie and I like a hawk. She wasn’t going to be in charge if something happened.
An unbelievable incident occurred while we were at the local skating rink. The incident slowly evolved from some bigger kids picking on Kristie. She was wearing a tube top, one of the older girls grabbed by the shoulders and dug her finger nails in, to the point of bringing blood from the scratches, left across her shoulders.
Kristie immediately ran to Sandy and pointed the girls out to her. Sandy told the Security Guard, who had a talk with the girls. Which apparently did not a bit of good, because they ran to their mother’s. Their mother’s proceeded to corner Sandy and threaten her.
When mom arrived, Sandy told her the story. You could see mom’s switch flip from cool, calm and collected; to do not mess with my kids. Sandy pointed everyone out to mom. The security guard realized mom had arrived and he proceeded to attempt to talk her out of saying anything.
Mom went to talk to the older girls. They ran to their mothers. When their mothers confronted our mother, the security guard called the police. I am not sure how to describe the other women involved, politely. They were like no other women I had seen in my lifetime. This was the first time I ever realized women could actually shave their eyebrows and paint them back on. Not a look I care for.
A crowd started to form around the car my mom leaned into to discuss the situation. She must have said something the women in the car didn’t like because they sell got out of the car, came around and surrounded mom.
The driver of the car, pushed mom backwards. Mom got up fighting. She jumped the driver. The next thing we knew mom and the driver were rolling around on the ground and the other women were landing punches as they could. The crowd was wild.
Before the fight was in full swing, the Security Guard called the police. We could here the sirens getting closer in the background. The police arrived, they attempted to stop the fight and desperate everyone. All I could see of the fight was fists and hair flying. At one point, I watched my mother grab the Security Guard and tell him to leave her alone if he didn’t want to loose what she was grabbing.
The police finally separated the fight and attempted to sort out what happened. I do not remember much after this, because our father had been contacted to pick us up. We were taken home and sent to bed. When we got up the next day, mom was home and the previous night was not mentioned.
I have a relationship with my sisters that others have trouble understanding. Maybe it has something to do with our childhood. We went through a lot together.
My husband was an only child. He had one child with his first wife. My oldest sister’s husband grew up with a brother and sister. My youngest sister’s husband is from overseas and grew-up with a sister. Other than Barry, everyone grew-up with a sibling.
Libor, Kristie’s husband, states that he has never seen siblings get along so well together or exhibit the closeness we do concerning one another.
When Barry and I were married, it took him ages to get used to our relationship. He became a little upset with me once when he overheard a conversation between my oldest sister and myself. He felt I should have been asking him the kind of questions, he heard me asking Sandy.
I tried to explain that I’ve been depending on my sisters for advice on certain topics since I was a kid. He grew up an only child, not knowing what it is like to have a closeness with a sibling. As time goes by, he grows closer to understanding our relationship.
You have friendship, brotherhood, and many other words to describe a kinship between people. If you do not know or understand what it means to be a sister, you do not know what you are missing.
Sisters are a different breed. We interact with one another on a different level than brothers and friends do. We know each others deep, dark secrets. We ask and answer each other questions you’d have trouble asking you husband or closest friend.
Sisters tell you when they think you are acting like an idiot and then they will also let you know when they think you are brilliant. You can always count on your sister. Through good and bad times, they will always be there for you.
You can count on your sisters to always be open and honest with you. When you get sick, your sister will be there to do whatever needs to be done. Part of being a sister, is being able to tell your sister when they are being complete turds and need to remember there are other people in this world than themselves.
Everyone has busy full lives today, you can’t shuck off your responsibilities to suit your needs. Once a sister, always a sister. Once a daughter, always a daughter. There are a few things in life that cannot be changed.
With sisters, you can be fighting like cats and dogs one minute or not speaking for months; let something happen and your sisters will be there at the drop of a hat. Sisters are always there when you need them.
Being the middle child of three girls, I felt like I was in the shadow of my sisters daily. We went through the same school system, rode the same bus, had the same issues with our parents. Some how, I man managed to feel over-shadowed by my older and younger sisters. Teachers, the bus driver and other school-related employees used to ask if I talked as much as my older sister. When I said, “No, I was the quiet one.” Their answer was always “Good”.
Kristie over-shadowed me when she was a freshman in high school. I had spent most of my junior year, sick and out of school. Upon returning my senior year, my baby sister took it upon herself to be my protector. She wouldn’t let anyone mess with me. Mrs. Gieger, the bus driver, said Kristie talked too much also. She told me once I was a nice break between my two sisters.
If you could clone yourself, how would you split up your responsibilities?
Cloning is an interesting topic. The medical profession has come so far in the past 20 years, I wouldn’t be surprised if cloning were not around the corner.
I thought and thought about this prompt, but couldn’t come up with a thing to write. Now, as I go to sleep, it hits me. I hope you enjoy.
If it were possible to clone myself, who would I assign my daily responsibilities? Well, after getting my mother’s medication ready and calling my sisters; I’d pack bags for Barry and myself, get Maggie‘s dog food bag, medication and leash, and we would disappear.
I wouldn’t look back or think twice, but we would disappear to a deserted island and live our lives out. Of course, Barry would have his camera, I’d have my sketch pad and Maggie would have her flashlight. We would be set.
We have been through so much in the past few years, we need a break. It may be a good idea to clone our family to take our place, so no one comes looking for us.
Mom would water the plants. Oops, I would have to see my sweet daddy one last time.Just for spite, if my step-son were around, I’d give him a tooth-brush and assign him bathroom duty.
Running away would be better than having a clone!
My father, known lovingly as. Pop, is quite a character. He is fun-loving and just a happy, jolly man nothing appears to bother
Not long ago, at a little hole in the wall restaurant, you will not believe what happened. Pop has always appeared to have an active radar for little off-beat restaurants.
We had lunch without a hitch, surprisingly good food. Pop got up to go pay the bill. While standing at the register, I looked up in time to see pop‘s short’s fall to the floor. Thank goodness he had taken time for underpants.
I watched him scratch his head, as he looked around the room. Yes, everyone had noticed. When he realized everyone knew; he leaned over, shining plumber’s crack to the room and pulled them up rather quickly.
Once back in the car, he asked us to remind him to get a belt when he gets home. I do not believe we ever saw Pop in that pair of shorts again. I do know we never stopped at that restaurant again. It was a shame, the food was really good.
What activity, task, or game most brings out your competitive streak?
Board Games drive me insane. It doesn’t matter which one of them it is,I get angry thinking about them. Just the thought of pulling a board game out gives my competitive hormone the kick in the hiney it cannot stand.. Maybe it is the fact that I stink at every board game I have ever tried to play. Or it could be the no good braggers that I play with. Who knows? I’ll just continue to avoid them like the plague.
The only violence I have ever exhibited when playing, was with my ex-husband. He loved to play chess. I know how, but I stink. In one of his rare forms, when he was wiping the board with me, he went too far. I picked the board up and threw it at him. Needless to say, we never played again.
I’ve played Gin Rummy and Scrabble, with Barry, no problems. I do not think we’ll ever play chess.
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