Mother Made Me Cry Today...

Mother made me cry today straight from the grave.

I unpacked a box with my name on it that came from the folk’s house. I found some wooden roses I had given to her when I graduated from college. She had taped a card with a kitty and ribbon on the front and added her own decorative ribbon. I thought it was cute and had always assumed she used the card to complement the roses.

I felt a lump inside the card. So, I untaped the card and found the original ribbons I used which were my school colors along with a note inside written by my mother.

You see, Mother was not the most expressive person.

Lee Ann gave me these roses at the graduation at S.H.S.U. on May 13,2006. We were all so proud and happy for her and had a great party at the lake.

And today, she managed to make me cry straight from the grave.

I thank you Mother for leaving a note with the roses. I knew Daddy was proud of me. It did my heart good today to know that you were also proud of me.

Note: I found the roses and note on January 14, 2015 and wrote in my journal the same day. The first sentence (above the first picture) is unedited. But the rest of the entry is edited and I added pictures to turn it into this blog post.

More Five Minutes

I am feeling sad and melancholic. I thought I would share a few more Five Minutes stuff I have written. Within most of these five minute writings, I included prompts and notes as it is my usual habit. And, some five minutes were used to save thoughts (quotes) that came to me in a spur of the moment. And, as always, please do not judge as these were five minute journal writings.

The following was written on August 22, 2014.

“Evil comes from within.”
(~Moi)

{I was reading Wicked by Gregory Maguire when two main characters, Elphaba and Galinda, was having a discussion about evil. Galinda asked “where is evil located?” As soon as I read this, the above thought (quote) crossed my mind.}

Evil is simply the absence of good just like darkness is simply the absence of light. You have to nurture light in order to keep the darkness at bay. Evil flourishes if one denies(, ignores, or rejects) goodness.

I believe that those who commits atrocities desire or lust after evil be it rape, incest, murder, etc., and etc. Some have hidden behind religions to give legitimacy to their evil ways. The world has gone mad and the good people allowed it to flourish in the name of political correctness. It is so sad.

The below was writing on August 26, 2014.

Note: To read more about Doctor Who, go here.

[inside a dilapidated house]

Kathy Nightingale: What did you come here for anyway?
Sally Sparrow: I love old things. They make me feel sad.
Kathy Nightingale: What's good about sad?
Sally Sparrow: It's happy for deep people.

One of my favorite episodes of Doctor Who TV series is “Blink”. I could watch this episode over and over again. “Beware the weeping angels.” In fact, I have not yet deleted this episode from the DVR. There are so many quotes that have become famous; but, the above is by far my favorite and not quite so famous.

I think the reason is due to the fact that I can identify with what Sally said. Yes, old things make me feel sad. I often wonder about the people, the history, etc., and etc. behind old things. At the same time, it makes me happy to roam among them.

I would rather go to a junk (antique) shop than to a restaurant for dinner. I would rather attend a genuine flea market over getting a bouquet of roses (cut flowers). I would rather go to garage sales in hopes of landing a cool old item than receive diamonds. I would rather receive small meaningful gifts over expensive thoughtless items. This is who I am. This is the way to my heart.

{Yes, I am weird. I am not your typical woman.)

The following is a brief incomplete poetry (ditty) I wrote on September 2, 2014.

Every day is cloudy.

Every day I pray for rain.

Every day laughs in my face.

Every day I seek to remain sane.

Do not ask me why I wrote this. For the life of me, I cannot remember the details and sad to say, I did not include any prompts or notes like I did with most of my other five minute writings.

The following was written on September 3, 2014.

“Rain causes lethargic spiders to dance.”
~Moi

This thought came to me while watching my Garden Spider in the rain. She drank some of the water and then dropped straight down a ways. She was very active –all over her web and beyond. I noticed this same behavior among other garden spiders nearby. (There are three others beside Charlotte, the one I am observing.) This was the first time it rained in over six weeks and it was not enough to soak the earth.

The below was written on September 11, 2014.

“The written word is so inaccurate. I meant what you said pretty much.”
~written to me by someone I know.

Who is behind the written word? Why is it inaccurate? Is it because you did not take the time to write what you really meant? Or, were you not careful enough with your grammar? Why do people assume that others will understand what you said with so few (careless) written words? We cannot read your mind!

Words, be it written or verbal, are powerful whether one realizes it or not. If one cannot be responsible and sensitive enough to take the time to write what he/she really thinks (means), then please, please do not bother to try.

I am now going off on a tangent that is related and yet not related to what I wrote above. I think I am going into a full on rant. And, thank God, no one can stop me because this is My. Personal. Space.

Why do people wish to pass the blame?

Why do people shrug off their careless words?

Why do people refuse to acknowledge or validate others for their own thoughts and feelings?

Why are people NOT listening? And, taking other people seriously?

I could go on and on with the questions that have no absolute answers.

Could it be people truly just do not care?

Could it be people are so self-centered that they cannot see others are in pain?

I think, maybe, just maybe, the true answer is:

No one wants to acknowledge the dragons in the room.

Note: “Here be Dragons” is a famous phrase often used on maps. It basically means dangerous or unexplored territories. The “dragons in the room” is my reference to topics no one wants to talk about and/or considers embarrassing or dangerous (either to them or others).

Five Minute Friday: Tell

Tell

To read the details about "Five Minute Friday", go here.

I am not linking up at the Five Minute Fridays linky party for various reasons of my own. So, if you stumble across this via search or whatnot and happen to be one of these participants, I bid you welcome. But please, treat me kindly and I thank you in advance.

I have a confession. I have been doing my own version of “Five Minute Fridays” when the mood strikes me. This started a month or so ago. It is not limited to one day a week or even five minutes. Yes, I break the rules. After all, some rules are meant to be broken, correct?

I just write from my heart and then I go back and edit the heck out of what I wrote. That is another rule I am breaking. You are not supposed to edit what you have written. I confess that I find it hard to believe that the vast majority of the “stories” being shared with the world are unedited and unaltered. If they are truly unedited and unaltered writings, then I bow down to their mastery of this particular skill.

Why do I do this exercise? I do it for journaling, personal therapy, and so much more. It is a safe place to express my thoughts, figure out things, and release my soul. When I find the time, the inclination, or a thought crosses my mind, I write in short bursts. And, I hope to gain courage to share a few of them with the world. I feel like I need to tell the world my story; but, I am an extreme introvert and it is exceedingly difficult to do this very thing.

The above was quickly written and mostly unedited. The prompt for the latest Five Minute Friday was “tell”. I am not pleased with my effort. I fear some will be offended and / or hurt. So, there you go. This is why I rarely share my thoughts and my soul.

I wrote the following on the day of my father’s birthday (July 23). I decided to post it on his facebook wall. So, I will share it here for posterity sake.

Dad, I so wish you was still here with us so that I could wish you a happy birthday. Most of all, I wish that we could just sit, converse and visit with one another.

You have been such a strength and inspiration to me and, I am sure, for all of us. I know that you would have encouraged me to persevere and to keep on keeping on with life. It has been a struggle the past couple of years; but, whenever I have a situation, I think of you and know you would have kept on moving and going forward. Because of you, I do not want to give up.

Thank you for being the Daddy I needed in my life. Thank you for being a great example when life and health knocks you down. Thank you for being you. I wish I could tell you this face to face. At least, I still have this wall to write down some of my thoughts.

Lord have mercy, tears still fall down on my face.

Here is another I have written on August 8, 2014 when a clear thought crossed my mind while standing in the shower. I knew I had something to write about and found the time (to write).

“It’s not cold; but, I feel cold.”

I was standing in the hot shower and I feel cold when this thought runs across my mind. This is not a feeling of what most people would think of as cold. It is a feeling of frozenness of an emotional kind. I am just benumbed. I do not feel like doing anything and have not accomplished anything for days on end. I am in hibernation. It is a survival mechanism when life and/or emotions become too much for me to handle. I have to retreat from the world.

Note to my readers: I think it is part of being an extreme sensitive (both empathetic and personal) and insecure introvert. Every personality test I have taken comes up with INFJ (or an extremely similar name). I do not think deafness plays a critical part; but, I do not discount it either.

(For more information on the INFJ personality, check out a description here.)

I believe the reason for this happening at this time of my life is I am still dealing with the death of my mother who passed away August 13 of last year (2013).

Five Minute Friday: Ache

I should be doing things like the budget and chores. And, doing some sewing. But, here I am. When I spied today's word, I immediately started writing. There is so much more I could have written; but, five minutes is the limit. And, to be honest, I am glad of this rule.

As a reminder: here are the rules of this writing task. Make note of #1. Please be kind to me as I tried to stick to this rule.

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

My heart aches.

I confess that I wish things turned out differently concerning my mother’s situation. I confess that I often wished Mother had died instead of languishing away in a nursing home with a mind still strong. I confess I often cry out to God, “Why?!?” Why did he take Daddy first when he wanted to be there to take care of Mother? So, my heart breaks for her. My heart cries because I wish I can do more for her. I feel guilty. I feel like I have failed her as a daughter. Tears fall down my face.

My heart aches.

My arms are empty. I must be satisfied with the few times I see my young nephews, nieces and cousins and the glimpses of them on the internet in between times. Nonetheless, I grieve. But, I take solace in the arms of God. I convince myself if He really wanted me to have a child, He would have allowed it to happen. But, as it is… I am childless… I feel so alone at times. I have no family to call my own. Tears fall down my face.

My heart aches.

Five Minutes: Roar

The Gypsy Mama puts up a "5 minute" word challenge almost every Friday and leaves it up for a week. If I do the exercise, I post my results on Thursdays.

Here is my fourth effort at the 5 minute challenge. It was written late Friday afternoon, January 6, 2011. The word for the week is "roar".

Sometimes I love the silence. Okay, most of the time I would rather have the silence because sound can be meaningless. But, other times, I just want to shout and let it all out. That is part of a refrain in the song Shout sung by Tears for Fears that I sing with all my heart on occasion. I just can’t help myself.

There is some things within me that just long to be expressed and I have suppressed them in fear of rejection and ridicule from both society and family. I mean, I am already different. Why do or say something to really set myself apart? Oh wait, too late. I have already done this through misunderstandings and more.

I longed to belong most of my young life that I tried to be what others wanted me to be at the sacrifice of my self. In hindsight, I realize that nothing would have changed whether or not I conformed.

Lately, I find myself just wanting to take certain people by their shoulders and yell at them to listen – listen to your loved ones, listen to me -- just listen. I find it sad to see people talk over one another; but, never truly listen with their hearts. If only they would truly listen, they might discover who the other person is. They might even become a hero and save someone from themselves. And maybe, just maybe, they would not box me up in their memories or fantasies and let me be.

I find I just cannot express my thoughts and feelings verbally simply because people are not making the effort to listen, or worse, they laugh at me because they do not believe or understand. I also fear that I would be misunderstood.

This is why I have turned to written words and have done so since I was a little girl.

So, lately, I have been shouting through written words for my soul can no longer be contained. I have hesitantly shared some with the world and prayed for understanding. I have reached the point in my life that I no longer care what others think of me. But, I am still fearful. I hold secrets.

{I confess that I cheated and edited this piece a tad. This piece, for some odd reason, is very important to me.}

Shout! Shout! Let it all out
These are the things I can do without
Come on – I’m talking to you,
Come on

~Shout by Tears for Fears; 1984

5 Minute... Thursday: Beauty

Here is my third effort at the 5 minute challenge. It was written on Tuesday (August 16, 2011). The word for this week's challenge is "beauty". I had thought about this word for a bit. I wrote and then added the pictures afterward - some old posted previously in this blog, some old never posted in this blog, and one newly created just for this post.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What one sees as beautiful, another may dismiss. Most people think in terms of humanity. Humanity ages over time and eventually fades away. What then constitutes as beauty?


Beauty is all around us even in the midst of a severe year-long drought.


Beauty is the touch of fabric, cutting it all up and turning it into a work of art (quilt).


Beauty is seeing the result of your efforts turning into a successful delicious reality.


Beauty is watching a kitty dream and seeing sunlight through fur.


Beauty is seeing children in laughter.

Beauty is… simply put… God’s creation. He created us and the world around us. He’s the Creator. He made us in His image. Therefore, we are creators ourselves. To suppress passion and interests is to suppress God himself. We must be careful to not turn them into idols; but, we are to be all that we can be in Him.

Beauty is soul deep – unique to each and every one of us.

1. Take five minutes and just write without criticizing your words, yourself or your story. Just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.
2. Link back here to share your unedited stories.
3. Go visit, read, and compliment the person who shared right before you.

Photo Credits:

1. Lee Ann; 6/1/2011
2. Lee Ann; 8/16/2011
3. Dan; 4/11/2010
4. Lee Ann; 3/9/2011
5. Dan; 12/31/2008

 

5 Minute... Thursday: Whole

The Gypsy Mama puts up a "5 minute" word challenge almost every Friday and leaves it up for a week. I decided, if I do the exercise, to post my result on Thursdays.

Here is my second effort at the 5 minute challenge. It was written on Wednesday (August 10, 2011). The word for this week's challenge is "whole".

Whole equals the sum of many parts. I am but a sum of many things.

I am my father’s daughter. I am a sister to three brothers. I am a wife to a wonderful man. I’m an Aunt. I am a woman. I am profoundly deaf.

Does all of this together make me whole? No, there’s more.

I am passionate. I am a pacifist. I am a worrywart, which is contrary to being a believer in Christ. I try to trust Him in all things; but, sometimes I just cannot help myself. I am imperfect. I am a contradiction.

I am also a wannabe crafter, quilter, writer, and photographer.

The sum of this entire monologue still doesn’t make me whole. What makes me whole? And, why do I feel broken?

I am a work in progress.

1. Take five minutes and just write without criticizing your words, yourself or your story. Just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.
2. Link back here to share your unedited stories.
3. Go visit, read, and compliment the person who shared right before you.

Man, this is so incomplete. The opposite of whole. Ha!

For some reason, I had a really tough time with this word and the exercise itself. There is so much within me swirling around wanting to get out; but, fear holds me back. I would so love to write more; but, the exercise called for five minutes. So, this is all you are going to get from me. And besides, I am not sure if I am ready to open up a can of worms. Or rather, share it with others.

If you like this challenge and you want to participate in it weekly, or even from time-to-time, I suggest you follow The Gypsy Mama because my "5 minute" postings are going to be rather late. You will be more up-to-date on what her 5 minute word challenge is if you follow her blog and be able to work on it right away or mull over the word a few days before doing the actual writing.

Five Minute Friday: "Still"

Still. What does that word mean to me?

My life is often lived in silence. It means quiet and not so noisy. I still have my aid; but, I rarely wear it at home. It means calmness. And, patience.

I observe people and always, I notice that they are forever busy multitasking. They are forever on their phones talking or texting. They are forever checking up things on emails and the internet. In their cars. In the grocery stores. In the park. Everywhere I go, I see them with a gadget planted to their ears or in their hand while doing other things including when they are visiting others.

In their busyness, they often neglect the important things in life. It is hard to be still and let things go. It is hard to just simply be still.

God says for us to sit still and know that He is God. He wants us to be calm and always listening for Him. He wants us to be worry free and to trust in Him. We often miss His little nudges in our attempt to fill every second with busyness.

Be still and know that I am God Psalms 46:10

1. Write for 5 minutes flat for pure unedited love of the written word on the prompt, “Still.”
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Get a little crazy with encouragement in the comments of the five minuter who linked up before you.

I thought I try my hand at the challenge. This is not easy to do! Read the post at the link, give it a whirl and see what you come up with. :-)