Tough times-

My week in review:

This past week, the strongest, bravest woman I know had one of the toughest times of her life. She entered the hospital last Monday, for what should have been a two to three day stay, for a routine (albeit major) surgery. The actual surgery went well, but she suffered a couple of major setbacks. Although she is finally on the mend, and scheduled to be released tomorrow, she has a long way to go in her convalescence. I’m not well when she’s not well, and those closest to me know this all too well. Thank you, Sister Agnes Delores, my run away nun, for simply walking into the room. Thank you, TT, my laugh out loud partner, for working tirelessly to help me keep the tears at bay. Thanks, LarKay, godmother extraordinaire, for looking out for me and my littles and thank you, thank you, thank you, my littles…for being…MY LITTLES —!

#onmysix24/7

#hesheryoungestbutimthebaby

#notoutofthewoodsyet

P.S. special note: Thank you to my super man, Chuckie, who outgrew his cape when we were kids, for hanging in there and doing all the things I couldn’t do, and his Lois Lane for always being ready with hot tea and hot towels and for taking such great care of Sir Finn.

Shhhh… Don’t Make A Sound-

(photo credit: maround.com)

He was already shoeless and shirtless when he entered the hallway. He’d left his shoes on the porch at the back of the house, his shirt, drenched in sweat, was someplace in the room he’d just come from. He eased his way through the darkness being more careful than he’d ever been. He knew if he so much as stumbled, he would prematurely awaken the only tenant in the bungalow, a beautiful, young female with piercing blue eyes. He’d been enamored with her since the day he’d met her in the hospital ER two years ago. Although he was young, and this would be his first time, he knew he was ready.

He slowly approached the door and pressed his ear to it. When he was satisfied that it was safe to go in, he eased the door open and tipped into the room.

With a sudden sense of urgency and anticipation, he hurriedly exposed himself, stepped up on the stool and urinated in the “big commode” all by himself…for the first time. He couldn’t wait to wake his mommy because he knew she would be so proud of him.

Not My Face

                              

 

She woke to find that the sun was no longer beaming on her face. Noticing that the temperature had dropped, she instinctively wrapped her arms around her body. She knew she needed to either adjust the thermostat or get a sweater because her short sleeved top was obviously no match for the cool October night. Ava stood and made her way to her bedroom closet. She chose a soft, fluffy throw instead of a sweater. She put it around her shoulders and walked over to her dresser where she sat and brushed her hair. Although she was facing the large oval shaped mirror, the reflection looking back at her was not her own, but that of a stranger, holding a knife in one hand and duct tape in the other.

Blind since birth, Ava never saw him coming.

My First Time

I was sixteen. He, a mere fourteen months my senior. We sat facing one another, my knuckles wrapped tightly around the armrest, his hands lying casually in his lap. Conversation was light, the air around us tense for me, for him, not so much. He smiled mischievously and I, trying to hide the sheer panic creeping through my every vein, returned that smile with what could not have been more than a grimace. Suddenly, his position changed, as did his facial expression. We were no longer eye to eye. It appeared that he was rising, but without standing. From where I was seated and from what I could see between the tears flooding from my eyes, the smile on his face had become a huge grin accompanied by a full fit of laughter.

By the time the plane leveled, my brother had regained his composure while I was still dry heaving into an in-flight barf bag, and my mother was feeding me ice chips and rubbing my neck. I’d never flown before.

 

Was This A Trick Question?

 

True Story—

 

While in tenth grade, my religion teacher, Sister Francine, asked the class to take out 5 sheets of paper and make a list of the 5 most important things in our lives. We were told that we could talk among ourselves and that we had 10 minutes. Some of my classmates were still in that “I hate my parents” stage. I guess I’d either passed through it or never experienced it because my mom was at the top of my list. Next on my list were my brothers, my friends, Gidgette, my poodle, and my grandmother.

When the time was up, Sister Francine walked to the front of the class and put a record on the turntable. I don’t remember what the song was, but I do remember it being something slow and pretty. Our instructions were simple: as we listened to the music we were to go to the garbage can and place the pieces of paper in it –one at a time- throwing each piece away signified letting go of that person or thing forever in order to follow God. As I think back, that had to be the hardest day of my high school career. Most of my friends and I were basket cases.

Here’s how it went:

Letting go of Gidgette was truly gut wrenching. After all, I’d had her since I was eight years old and she was the guardian of my lunch. Every morning after I prepared and bagged lunches for my brothers and me, Gidgette would sit next to mine on the ottoman and stop my brothers from switching bags. I always put the best snacks in my bag. That, in and of itself, should explain why it was so hard to choose between letting go of Gidgette and letting go of grandma. I was the difficult teenager and she was the nosey grandmother who gossiped all day with her old lady friends and told my mom everything she “thought” I was doing.  So no brainer, right?!

I also had trouble deciding between my brothers and my friends because my brothers were … well they were my brothers… we aggravated one another and we told on one another and/but we loved one another. I couldn’t begin to imagine my life without “the boys” in it. They were my first friends. I think I trashed my other friends before my brothers, but nonetheless, the tears flowed freely as I stepped up to the garbage can.*Note to my brothers: Rick and Ray if you ever read this you should feel very good about yourselves because you made it through the first three cuts. (LOL). I would like to send out a sincere apology to my tenth grade friends. It’s a good thing your lives didn’t depend on the order of things that day!

Last, but obviously not least, was the piece of paper with those eight simple letters written on it…M-Y-M-O-T-H-E-R… my mother. What did I do? I held on and I cried. The bell rang and I was still holding on to that silly piece of paper that meant more than the world to me. Several of my friends, male and female, were in the same boat. We couldn’t let go. Truth be known, I probably still have that piece of paper tucked away in my old religion book.

Talk about a trick question for a kid!

**Dear Sister Francine, because of you, I never stray too far from the sidewalk, because of you I learned to play on the safe side… you know the rest!

 

Creative Storytelling with Sally and Friends

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Hi folks, check this out…it’s a story writing idea where we write stories -together-

Follow these instructions and let’s see what happens…

Instructions:

  • add to the story (preferably in paragraph form) in the comments section (your addition can be funny, sarcastic, cynical, sad, serious, sexual and/or anything you’d like it to be) and add a link to your blog
  • I will copy and paste your paragraphs and re-publish the story as it unfolds which will provide new prompts regularly
  • invite others to join us by specifically selecting as many of them as you’d like
  • check back and add on as often as you’d like
  • tag your post
  • To make it easy for others to see what we’re writing use “Creative Story Telling with Sally and Friends” as your title if you post it on your blog or tag it “CST”
  • Remember to follow my blog for the new story prompts which will post bi-weekly.

Now let’s see how creative we can be—-

Today’s prompt:

Today a group of ladies were standing around the water cooler talking about one of those reality TV shows. Since I’m not a fan, I filled my cup and went back to my cubicle, which apparently was not the right thing to do. I’d been back at my desk for a few moments when Mona, the “office mom”, stopped by to ask if I was feeling bad or if I was simply being anti-social. In my true to form sarcastic tone, and without even turning to look at her, I said “why yes Mona”.

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Below you’ll find a list of blogs I’ve tapped to join in. If I tapped you, it’s because there’s

just something about you… (: If I didn’t, you should stick around, your day is coming!

Now get writing and add your twist to the prompt then go visit the folks I tapped and you’ll soon find out why I tapped them——