sunflowers
Just wanted my 300th Post to be summery! Thanks to everyone out there for your kindness and support. You are a fabulous group of people! Keep it up!
Stories—the small personal ones that bring us close as well as those of the larger world—foster compassion. In the telling of our personal lives, we’re reminded of our basic, human qualities—our vulnerabilities and strengths, foolishness and wisdom, who we are…, through the exchange of stories, [you] help heal each other’s spirits.
–Patrice Vecchione, Writing and the Spiritual Life
Growing up, I was a shy child. As the years went on, I came out of my shyness a little, but as I grew older and started getting serious about life the shyness reappeared in certain situations.
I think we all go through an awkward phase as a child, I’d say I hit mine around the sixth-grade or seventh-grade. The summer I turned twelve years old, I shot up over six inches in height. Mom thought she was purchasing stylish glasses for me, when truth be told, they were the ugliest glasses I had ever seen.
Anyone with an opportunity and a mean streak took it upon themselves to let me know how gawky and goofy I looked in those glasses. As I got taller, I was the second tallest girl in my class and the first girl to develop in all the right places. I was taller than everyone in the class. That just added to the fire.
Another thing that added to my “nerdy” status is that I developed allergies as a child. I grew up when they didn’t know how to treat allergies. I was always sick, had a lot of food allergies and did a ton of throwing up after meals. Not so easy to make friends when you are literally the snotty girl, always scratching and have the ability to vomit at the drop of a hat. Kids can be so mean. I was sick so much, mom thought I needed to see a doctor daily. The ironic thing about mom running me to the doctor constantly, was that the brain tumor I have has been there since I was a child. I was sick, but not for any of the reasons she was taking me to the doctor.
All of these, should have been good things, but the kids I grew up with saw a vulnerable girl they could hurl their latest ammunition at. It was like some bully kept a book and said “let’s pick on her today.”
One stupid new girl decided she would target me on her own. I became her pet project at her new school. She took particular dislike to my glasses. I was called “Four-Eyes” so many times in the eighth-grade that I decided to let her foolishness stop bothering me and decided to kill her with kindness. Sometime in the night-grade, the bullying stopped. The new girl, never turned nice through four-years of high school, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t let her get to me.
I took my classes, did my school work and survived high school. Most of us do. What you have to remember about bullies, is that they are just jealous or sometimes it could be as boy or girl who is sweet on you and doesn’t know how to handle their own feelings. Be patient growing up, God will get up through it! I went to college away from everyone I had known for years.
After graduating high school, the shy girl came flying out of me again. Nursing school put me into situations I didn’t know how to handle, so I did my best. If I was uncomfortable in a situation, I worked my way through it. After I was married the first time, I ran into people here and there. What I noticed the most, was they acted like we were life long friends. God says to forgive and I have forgiven.
Doctors are not kind to new nurses or old ones at that. My first nursing job, opened my eyes to how crude the medical profession can be. You would not believe, what goes on behind the scenes, at some hospitals here in Georgia. In all my life, I did not realize how ugly people can be to one another. I grew-up quickly.
After my first husband and I divorced, one of my first jobs as a single woman was at the local jail in my hometown. The saddest part of that job, was seeing more people I went to high school with in jail than on the streets of town. A few were hard to believe, but others I had seen in trouble for years. I dated a deputy for a while, and he got a bit stalkerish. Someone in jail, that I had known for years, stood up for me. He did the right thing and said something when the time was right. I never got the chance to say thank you! Thank you, Joe! I know he’ll never see this, but at least I have said it.
I went through many jobs, that finally lead me to the career I was meant to have. I stayed with that career until I was forced into retirement by a nasty brain tumor called a gangliocytoma. I would later discover the tumor was just a symptom of a genetic disorder called Cowden Syndrome. Sine that diagnosis, I have survived Thyroid Cancer and I am dealing with breast cancer. Every month, I am in some doctor’s office being probed, prodded or x-rayed.
Note to all doctor’s that do lumpectomies, tell your patient’s about the fluid build-up possibility and the possibility of acting like a leaky pipe under your arm. It would make life after lumpectomy less stressful.
I’m getting tired, but I refuse to let this mess get the best of me. God has a plan for my life, otherwise I wouldn’t still be around. It is not my place to question that plan. I have tolerated this breast cancer episode better than things in the past. Either I am tired of fighting, or learning how to give it to God finally. I’ve prayed about the subject. It must be sinking in.
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.
Stairsteps1- Jill and her sisters
Our favorite workout place! Photographs provided by Barry Baynes
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!
For many of us, winter is blooming into spring, or fall hardening into winter. Which season do you most look forward to?
My favorite time of year, is when the air outside is cool and crisp. It is warm enough during the day, to enjoy the outdoors; but the nights are crisp enough to keep you snuggled under the covers, with that someone special making the moment worthwhile.
I love watching the flowers and the yard slowly wake to the spring sunshine. The leaves and buds slowly emerging from God’s green earth; as the birds start to buzz around like a swarm of bees. Each with a different song to sing.
I love getting the yard ready for whatever the season brings. Filling the bird feeders, putting out fresh mulch to protect the new flowers as they burst into our world with abundance of color.
Picking up the million little sticks and other things the wind has dropped into our yard. Bringing the porch furniture out, cleaning and touching up then paint as needed. Cleaning the wind chimes and hanging them in their proper places. Along with the bird singing, I love the mix the wind chimes joining in. It makes being outdoors so enjoyable.
Washing the porches down and organizing the potted plants and other decor to make our porches pretty enough for pictures and ready for serious relaxing. Then we have the grill porch. Need to get the grill cleaned and ready for the season. We love to entertain.
While I do all the above, Barry is handling lawn mower repair and weed eating. I’ll hire my sweet nephews to weed one of my flower beds.
We’ll need to get the fountain going. I’d like to find a small bench and plant another butterfly bush in that bed. The shrubs need a little pruning and I am hoping we can put a cement walk on the front this year. Barry will need to add hand rails to the steps if we get the walkway done.
If you cannot tell by my page of rambling, Spring is at the top of my list for seasons. Other than the allergy end of things, I adore the Springtime weather.
Dear Lord, I appreciate your gift of Spring. You did a great job! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
To date, I have avoided “major injury” falling. Although, there is an indention of my head in the living room; I have ruined a box of pictures and found myself stuck, without help, in the middle of a box of shattered glass and a broken picture frames; I have gone head over heels when I fell in the recliner; I’ve fallen from the top step in the garage backwards flat on my back; and I only have 2-3 throw rugs left in the house because I trip on them, causing twisted knees, sore elbows and shoulders. We have done our best to fall proof the house, but it still happens. I’ll find out tomorrow. At this point, the injuries have been a mild concussion; torn meniscus in my left knee; stitches in my left elbow; and whatever the doctor says I have done to my left knee this time. The radiologist the performed the MRI, told me my left knee is bone on bone. It will be interesting to see what the doctor has to say. If a new knee is worth it, should I do it? All these questions, I’ll have to wait for answers.
Barry and I hand in hand. I love Barry’s strong, warm hands. I need Barry’s help at times. His hands are always there. When I need a hand on steps. When I need a hand up. His hands are always readily there. His comfort makes me feel whole.
I have a husband deserving much. His hands deserve things my hands. Can no longer function to give. My hands shake when they function. I want to show Barry love. I want to show him appreciation. I will find another way love. Can shine through to Barry’s heart.
I will figure a way love. Can shine through my actions daily. I need him to know love. Still shines through in my actions. He deserves that and much more. His wonderful hands show me daily. That he loves me unconditionally always. He joins me in God’s hands. God’s plan guides our daily life. His watchful hands guide us daily.
Join the fun. Follow the link below.
http://mymemoryart.blogspot.com/2013/02/six-word-fridays-hand.html
You’re given a plot of land and have the financial resources to do what you please. What’s the plan?
We’ve done the big house thing, so to start…We’d have a modest handicapped accessible home-built, near the back of the property. Single level of course, but with all the technology available to make life easy around the house for a disabled person. One room would be set aside for a gym. I need a place to work out, instead of my dining room. There has to be huge porches with swings across the front and back of the house. One end of each porch would be screened in. I love to sit and enjoy the outdoor sounds.
Second, we’d have a small guest house built behind our house for my mom. She can design and pick out what she wants. She needs to include a guest room for company.
Next would come the raised garden, close to the house with benches everywhere. It would have a rose-covered arbor at the entrance with every plant possible to attract butterflies and birds by the dozen.
A covered patio with a table or other area to relax and get out of the rain. Somewhere close by, there would be a small garden shed to store all my tools and other essentials. I’d have to have some form of water feature in the garden. It would be great to have a fountain in the center of the garden. The birds and butterflies would love that!
To one side of the house would be Barry‘s garage sanctuary. He can work on cars, build things and do whatever he wants in his man cave. That would be his place to design and setup.
I can’t forget about our treasured pets. We’d have to have an area of the yard fenced in and a state of the art doggie-door for Miss Maggie to go in and out on her own. The door needs to lock the minute Mags is back in the house.
Then there is Shotgun, our Japanese Fighting Fish. He will need a larger tank somewhere near the kitchen. We can decorate it like the bottom of the ocean, but I need to be able to handle it to clean and change the water. Shotgun loves hiding in the roots of my plant in the aquarium.
The plot of earth would be full of big shade trees and a long drive way. I’d need to ride by bicycle to the mailbox. Along with the garden, the house would be surrounded by flowers and shrubs. Something would be blooming year round.
We are heading out to see what the gym is doing for a few hours. Rowdy Rooster Day was yesterday, so maybe we can get a good workout in. Have fun and make the day great! Barry and I intend too!
Barry at the gym.
Jill at the gym.
Need to do some cardio.
Two Rights Attempting To Make A Left! 
You must be logged in to post a comment.