holidays

    
                                            Holidays

       Holidays in the past meant family filling my grandparents house when I was a child with cousins galore to play with, outside regardless of the weather. After all there were 39 of us and add the adults and the house couldn't hold all of us at once. the men ate first and the women reheated the food, washed the dishes then fed the kids. After that was done they reheated the food again, washed the dishes and ate.  I don't know when it changed to the kids eating first but a lot of things had changed since then.  After I married and had my own growing family, it still meant family around the table enjoying the traditional food and conversation, much centering on 'what I want's for Christmas.

     The day after Thanksgiving was when the tree was dragged out of storage, erected and decorated with all kinds of ornaments from fragile antiques balls to children's paper cutouts. All held a special meaning, some only to me that had to  be displayed.  Mysteriously, everyone disappeared at the time, leaving me to do it, reappearing when it was done.  

     I never shopped on Black Friday, which is a very recent invention by retailers. My cousin Nancy and I would shop on the following Monday, returning  with the car loaded with parcels and bags to be hidden until we could get them wrapped and under the tree. One trip I sampled the new men's cologne by putting it on my wrist and it smelled so bad I hung my hand out the window all the way home.  She and I were as close as sisters and we always had fun but could confide in and cry with each other. She is gone now and I miss her.

      Besides the gifts purchased, there were the tradition of new pajamas for the kids for Christmas Eve which has carried through the years although at this point I think it means more to me than to them.  Other years the meal consisted of garden produce that had been frozen or prepared ahead of time, including yeast rolls that didn't come from the grocery. The early years were the best when the children were little and our dreams still untarnished by circumstance. 

       Divorce and death affect these two holidays more than any others, at least for me, as  traditions fall by the wayside making it 'just another day'.  It has been hard in the past to try to enjoy being with others, even though I knew I was welcome, mourning and regretting events of the past. Feeling that somehow it would affect the others. A 'Gloomy Gus'  is no fun to be around.

        This year I chose to be alone to finish my book, spirit driven by the Holy Spirit which gives new meaning to the term 'Ghost writer'!  I wasn't lonely, sad, or depressed as I passed that a long time ago. Acceptance of things as they are is my reality. Randy Travis says it best in "Three Wooden Crosses". "it's not what you take when you leave the world behind you, it's what you leave behind you when you go." 

     My hope is that I will leave something of value behind.....or at least memories to laugh about.

Getting older

   
                                                          Aging Gracefully

  All my life I was told 'beauty is only skin deep' and in one sense it is. In another the loss of youth is not always a pleasant process for us 'old ladies'. After I had my cataract surgery, the old lady in the bathroom mirror appeared older than before the surgery.  I have joked about it, but I assure you it was not funny!  It was a shock to realize that I really looked like that; wrinkles, sagging eye lids and, horrors, the turkey wattle instead of  one chin and smooth throat.  Knowing that there really wasn't anything I could do about it, short of major plastic which I couldn't afford and seeing how it is done wouldn't do even if I did have the money.

        Trying to come to terms with my appearance was a struggle, feeling how unfair it was to have my looks not gibe with my inner self.  I read somewhere that an 18 year old girl still lives in every female regardless of her age and I resented that fact that the world viewed me as 'old' when I didn't feel old.

         Those of you have read The Velveteen Rabbit may remember the following quote which had an astonishing effect on me and my struggle with the march of time. The following quote from The Velveteen Rabbit helped me to realize that becoming 'real' is not unlike growing older;

               
               "     It doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a

          long time. That's why it doesn't happen to people who break

          easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

          Generally by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been

           loved off, and your eyes drop out, and you get loose in the joints

           and are very shabby.

                     But these things don't matter at all, because you are Real.

           You can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

                   

     So all you young lovelies out there, the next time you see an old person, keep in mind that you won't always be young, or vital, or energetic and think the world is your oyster. Regardless of age, everyone needs love, affection, attention and caring. So be patient with them and think of the wrinkles, gray hair and quaking limbs as battle scars, and remember, now they are Real.

immunizations

   
                                                                Immunizations

  In the 1940s and early 1950s, the most dreaded and feared illness was polio. There was no known cause, no known cure. Mild cases left mild effects, worst ones left patients living in iron lungs for the rest of their lives or never walking again. Children were kept out of crowds and were not allowed to swim during the 'dog days' of August, which was two precautions parents took. They didn't really have any effect but at least they felt they were doing 'something'. When a child complained of a headache or stiff neck, the parents panicked as that was usually the first symptoms. 

         The Salk vaccine was released to the public in 1955, which was a major development in the medical field and parents felt Dr. Salk was a savior of their children. Now it is routine to immunize babies against this in addition to whooping cough, measles, tetanus, etc., which parents take for granted.   What the public doesn't know is about some of the tests before it was released for public use.

       In early September of 1952, a number of counties in the country were chosen as target test areas. Franklin county, Illinois was one of them.  Essentially, they wanted to see how many children it would kill or maim before they would release it. I was one of those children, in addition to every grade school age child in the county.  Children in Coello, Mulkeytown, Buckner and Christopher were run through like cattle in Christopher grade school cafeteria. Long tables were manned by nurses with syringes loaded with all the vaccines available at the time. Smallpox vaccination is the only one I remember besides the Salk vaccine.  

     No one objected, balked, cried or questioned. We simply accepted that these ladies in the white dresses knew best. Some of us, including me, had never had a shot, took an antibiotic or saw a doctor on a regular basis.  

      I remembered it happening but didn't know the rest of the story until I happened to see it on The History Channel.  The kicker? Our parents were not asked to give permission and didn't even know it was planned until it was over and done. (My mother verified this.) Probably our parents would have been thrilled that something could prevent crippling or killing their children, gladly giving permission had they been asked.  

      Out of all the test groups, 8 children died from the vaccine, which they considered to be successful, paving the way for the elimination of this disease.

     Suppose someone came up with a vaccine for cancer. Would you want your child to receive it? Without your permission or knowledge? Would you be willing to take it? 

      Salk vaccine tests ended with a positive outcome, benefitting all people everywhere, but imagine for a minute it had killed or maimed the majority of the children. Parents today might still be dreading polio and it's effects and hoping for a cure instead of routinely being inoculated.  As for me, I am glad he dared to try and happy he succeeded.  What about you?
       
      
       
      

Divorce

      A  recent comment on Facebook seemed to call for a new post.  Pat Robertson made the comment that divorce was an option for a person whose mate had Alzheimers which the writer and following comments were very much against this and one seemed to say divorce was never an option. If I am mistaken, I apologize. As a twice divorced woman, I see things from a very different position.  I gave up on my first marriage after 32 years of trying to do my part to make it work and have the battle scars to prove it.  The second ended when I discovered he was a child molester.  Circumstances have to be taken into account, which we never have all of them unless it is happening to us.

       Having a mate with this terrible condition is a different case and caring for one has to be a formidable burden in addition to technically being alone.  People of all ages need companionship, comfort, and affection; hugs, kisses and just having someone to talk to who understands, to have dinner with, see a movie or enjoy the give and take of everyday life.  Even though the mate is lost in the jungle of their own mind, or lack of, the spouse still needs these things.  So is it wrong to spend time with another lonely person dealing with the same thing or left due to the death of their life-mate?  Does it take anything away from the one no longer living in this world with only the body left which is incapable of giving anything? If so, what? Does anything get through the fog of alzheimers? If not, should one martyr themselves, believing that suffering alone will earn them stars in their crown?  I can't answer these questions as, thank God, I have never stood in those shoes and pray I never will.

       In Genesis, God said it wasn't good for man to be alone. Life was meant to be shared with another person, regardless of whether they are free to marry or not.  We were created in His image and the need for human interaction is bred into us at birth. And that includes the ones who have much to give and no one able to accept any longer.  Compassion for all is the key that unlocks the door of understanding, letting us have a view of another's world and pain, and possibly being able to help in some way without judgement or condemnation.

       If one divorced an alzheimer patient in order to marry, I wouldn't be so quick to condemn as the brain, the very essence, of the mate is gone, leaving a grieving mate looking forward to possibly years alone. Try to see it from the view of the man/woman who sees the one they loved moving farther and farther away from them, incapable of any feeling or caring.

          So give your husband/wife a kiss and hug and thank God they are with you in mind, body and spirit, able to laugh, fight, solve problems and play with you and pray that they never leave you in such a cruel way.

                                Peace, Joy and Blessing to all

         

                                   

Rachel

muddin'

         Rachel is my grand-daughter, my oldest grand-child and today is her 23rd birthday.  Before she came into my life I had always wanted  a little girl I could dress in frills and lace, dreaming of the things I could make for her. Guess what! she never liked frills and lace, only wearing them if bribed or black-mailed.

        Children learn very early how to get what they want from Grand-parents, which isn't hard.  I let her do things my children never did. Like eating powered sugar out of the bag, licking the icing out of oreos and, among other things, watching videos all day.....the Wizard of Oz three times in one day....Hey! She wanted to so I let her!  Of course, I had to watch it with her.  She also liked me to play (badly) the keyboard with her at my elbow.  One of the demo songs she would have me play, 'Grandfathers clock', repeatedly. She had me write down the words so she could sing it to Mom. (she couldn't read yet!)

Rachel and Uncle Jason

          At one time my husband and I had racing pigeons which required training flights, driving as far as Farmington, Mo, turning them loose and driving back home. Rachel and I did this most of time so to entertain her, after the powdered donuts and juice was gone, I told her Bible stories in my own words.  At one point she was convinced that satan lived in the water tower as it was painted HOME OF THE RED DEVILS.  Hard to tell how a kid will interpret things.

Gavin, Rachel, and Hannah

        I tried to add some pictures of Rachel as a child and were denied. Hannah her cousin, gives a fair picture of how she looked at that age.                              

She wasn't always this sweet little thing, for instance ..... Laying in the bathroom floor, sick with the flu, wailing "I want Mama."  After assuring her I would do what I could my final words were, "Sorry, little girl, you are stuck with me."  A few days later her 2 year old brother told another of my sobbing charges, with a shrug of his shoulders, "you're stuck with her."
           She has tried to talk me into going with her to a concert which I considered too loud, didn't like climbing bleachers, etc.  Well! She has been harassing me since I went to a Josh Turner concert and had a great time, screaming and yelling with like a teen ager!  So I am taking this public forum to apologize and promising to go with her to one..........................if she gets the tickets.
          The time allotted to us on this earth is passing rapidly and cannot be regained so enjoy and make the most of it.
            HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY GIRL, I LOVE YOU

rednecks and country music

       Until this week-end, I thought rednecks were found only below the Mason-Jefferson county line.  Not true, which proves even senior citizens don't know everything.

      A friend, Lowanda, invited me to travel north with her to her 'home town' to  meet her friends and enjoy some good ol' country music.  That wasn't a surprise as the old sounds are popular all over the country.  However, the rest of the time spent in East Peoria was not what I expected.

     Friday night we attended a jam session.....in a garage that was part music studio and part storage area.  Seating was odd chairs, stools and a couple of couches plus a couple of tables with food and a frig filled with drinks.  Everything that was needed for an evening of dining and dancing. Of course, dancing took place in the driveway under the basketball hoop between the sagging swing and unsteady picnic table.

      The musicians ranged from aging seniors to a young teen-ager, including my red headed friend who, in time passed, had played and sang professionally with some of the musicians  I met that night. So far, things seemed fairly normal.

      Saturday night we visited 'The Center Tap' which is where I saw some sights that, had I not known better, would have guessed I was in the 'Iron Horse' (better know as 'the Ghetto') on Saturday night with the same assortment of odd patrons. One old guy, wearing a poncho with wolf designs printed on it, was stumbling around trying to give away pizza that looked like singed cardboard,  girls in tight tank tops paired with shorts or  skirts 2 sizes too small, the barely legal young drinkers proving how tough they could be and one passed out with his head resting on the table while the music assaulted your ear drums.  More men with pony tails, head bands and missing teeth were there than I had seen in a long while....Maybe they just like to hang around together or fight each other which could account for the teeth situation. After all, if you can't fight with your friends who else can you fight with. Kinda keeps it in the family.

      Next stop was the Eagles with two other friends, Eddie and Jack, playing chaperone to us, or us to them. The band played the old country music and most of the crowd was dancing and enjoying themselves.  It could have been anywhere in the country on a summer Saturday night.
         On Sunday a benefit was held for a seriously ill man with a mountain of  medical debts piling up and needing help. Some of the people there did not know this man nor care. All they knew was he needed help and that is all that mattered. Not if he deserved it, or would use it wisely.  That to me is part of showing Christian love.
       The same people who played friday night were in the group of musicians entertaining.  All matter of items were auctioned off to raise more funds and food was served. While in standing in line to get a soda, a tall, thin man leaning against the wall tried to start a conversation with me. Neither he nor I could hear as the music was so loud.  With an apologetic smile, I shrugged, got my soda and returned to my table.  Too bad, you say?  He was 95! 
       For some reason, I expected Peoria to be citified, maybe like Chicago, but found it much like Franklin county.  People are just as friendly, generous and      out-going as home folk.  Invitations were extended to me for anytime I cared to come to the big city with the small town smack dab in the middle of it. I would, only if I don't have to go to the Center Trap...excuse me that is Center Tap!

      

One of those times

        Have you ever done something that caused you to feel super stupid and glad no one is watching?  Well, welcome to the club.

      As I stated in my first blog, I am a senior citizen on the slippery side of 71, which means I grew up with LP and  45 records. If we listened to the radio it was plugged in and you couldn't listen to the current songs as our parents considered rock 'n' roll a tool of the devil.  No self respecting teenager would be caught dead listening to the boring stuff our parents liked.

        Recently I decided an mp3 player would be nice to have for the times I was too far from the computer to listen to my favorites or I wasn't in the car to crank up the CD player and sing along.  Besides, it might win me points with the grand-kids as they think I lived when they used quill pens to write with. 

     I tend to research things I want to purchase by surfing the internet, which is so much better than going from store to store or spending hours on the phone comparing prices. Yes children, that is the way it was done in the dark ages when telephones were state of the art.

      A real deal was found on my credit care site that had one that looked like it would do the job so I ordered it, I am like a kid at Christmas when waiting for a package that I know contains a new 'toy' for me.

     It arrived yesterday. After 30 minutes and 3 broken fingernails, it was out of the plastic packaging; I followed the diredtions to charge it and put music in it.   Nothing!  Supposedly the music was on it but I coulnd't even get it to scroll to show settings or contents, etc.  That figures, just my luck!  I was ready to throw it in the trash and dig out the 8 track player. (look it up kids)

       Then it hit me exactly what was wrong. It worked perfectly after I REMOVED THE PLASTIC SCREEN PROTECTOR.!!!!

     the moral: everyone does it, so laugh at yourself. Who knows, you might want to write about it!


       

brother and the hamburger

      My brother is 18 months older than me which sets the stage for major competition, mainly designed to drive Mom crazy.  I was jealous mainly for what I heard everytime I wanted to do something he did, which was "He's a boy is why he gets to do _________. (fill in the blank) Girls can't do that."  Maybe Mothers don't say that anymore but, as my granddaughter told me, "Grandma, you lived in the dark ages."

     So travel back to summer circa 1950 on wash-day, on which I got so tired of hearing that swoosh, swoosh from the basement.(Thank God for automatic washers and dryers!)  Of course, the clothes were dried on the clothesline meaning Mom ran up and down the stairs all day.

      On this one day, brother and I decided we wanted a hamburger for lunch. We would pick a day when Mom was so busy but we were kids and didn't care. Wasn't that what Mothers were for? 

       So she stopped long enough to fix our lunch, sat it on the table fixed a glass of iced tea for each of us and returned to her chores.  I know she was tired of hearing our squabbling and tried to ignore it as she didn't have time today to be referee. 

      My brother had so many annoying habits that irriated me that I can't remember what he was doing at that particular moment when Mom made her thousandth trip through the kitchen, just as I dumped my iced tea on his hamburger.  He felt compelled to retaliate, doing the same to my plate. 

     Mom probably wanted to throttle us if she hadn't been so tired. Then she decided on a better punishment. SHE MADE US EAT EVERY SOGGY BITE!

     It was not very palatable to say the least. The punishment fit the crime perfectly.  so the moral is, if you are going to do something to a sibling, make sure Mom ain't looking! 

strings

      On my way to visit with cousins, thoughts turned to the connections in our lives, strings to all the people we are tied to the minute we are born. First is our parents, grand-parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins to name the closest.  All those have connections to friends and neighbors that we are then tied to.

      If we are taken to Sunday School, we meet children who become our friends for life, attaching strings between us, which ties us to their families.  That is where I met a little girl who is still attached to me by the string that was tied at our first meeting, who I tease by calling her my 'oldest' friend, as she does me. She is a very loving, compassionate person caring for her Mother, possessing her own snapped strings.

      Many more strings develop when we enter grade school and immediately acquire a 'best friend'; for the younger set, it is a BFF.  I was blessed to be able to stay in the same school system from first grade to high school graduation, strengthing the bond between friends and their families. My school friend ,Judy, and I spent every minute we could together with me being at her house as much as I was mine, double dating whenever  possible and having some close calls with trouble  few times. For years she lived away from here, leaving gaps where we didn't see each other but when we did , it was as if no time had elapsed at all.  The string between us snapped in December a couple of years ago, leaving a gap where her string had been for so long.  One thing about these strings, you can't pick them up and tie them on someone else for when they are woven, it is for that person alone, and left dangling until your own string snaps.

      When you marry, or co-habitate as the custom is now, more strings are added, as your children come they tie on their own strings.  Everyone you have a sustained relationship with ties on a string,at work, in the neighborhood, your children's friends and church affiliation. 

      These strings spread wider and wider, creating more and more.  Then we look behind us at the strings that were in tied to us at our birth. Over time the strings have snapped one by one with each death or loss of each person.  Our grand-parents and parents will pass away, as will aunts, uncles, and cousins, etc, leaving their own dangling strings for us to grieve for a time.

      Then a day will come when the last string snaps and all are gone from behind us.  Turn back to the strings coming from you, what do you see?  Strings spreading out like the fan that had come from your parents to you, which in turn, lead to more strings.  We do see some snapped strings there, friends who are no longer with us, children that didn't make it to create their own strings, and some who snapped the string deliberately. Possibly there are some we snapped to break away from people who weren't good for us. 

      Many people search for their lineage, adoptees for birth parents, some for a friend or classmate on Facebook, or go to family reunions. All are looking for or strengthing lost or fraying strings. 

       For the ones of mine that have snapped, I can look at the dangling strings and recall the memories that they represent and the people that were once tied to them that will be renewed when we meet again in Heaven.
           
                                      

kids tricks

      Kids will do things that have us either shaking our heads, screaming, or dragging them to the woodshed.  Of course that last one is a no-no although I knew some kids that were cured of some very unacceptable behavior in that fashion.  We all have memories of this kind of behavior.  The summer I was 6 or so, our maple tree was stripped of small branches as high as my mother could reach.  those suckers sting like crazy when used on the lower legs.

     So on that note, travel back with me to the summer of 1946 about 10 in the morning. The girl next door and I had been flying balsa wood (now made of styrofoam) airplanes in the yard. Considering they didn't hold up to more than once hitting the ground, there wasn't much you could do with them..............except swipe some farmer's matches from the kitchen, go to the outhouse and play with fire, the trick being to drop them down the hole before they burned our fingers.  Doesn't sound too bad does it?  Keep in mind that you don't flush when you are finished, regardless of what Shrek did in his toilet.  Located in the recesses below is paper, usually catalog pages of which the black and white ones were better since the  colored pages were very slick, if you get the picture. So what happens when matches and paper meet? Right! the paper burns.

       So we had burned most of the airplanes when the smoke began to roll out the back, through the cracks, and out the door, even though it was closed , leaving a 2 inch gap.  My friend headed for home on the double while I ran up the walk to the back step, sitting down primly, playing little miss innocent. 

       Several of the neighbor men came running and had it put out in short order.  Of course, I had to 'fess up; I never was a very good liar.  For the first and only time, my mother said, "Wait till your Dad gets home." I don't know a child whose blood doesn't run cold at those words. I imagined all sorts of punishments, not that my Dad was harsh in the least; I probably can count on one hand the times he spanked me.  All he had to do was look at me, talking through his teeth and tell me to quit whatever I was doing.

      Back to the story:  I sat on those concrete steps all day. I couldn't eat, drink, or talk (imagine that!) and although it was hot weather I sat and shivered with my teeth chattering.  Talk about waiting for the executioner to come! I was a wreck!

      Four o'clock finallly came with my rear dimpled by the rough concrete and my nerves shot, as much as a 6 years old nerves can be. As he drove in the driveway, Mom came out the back door, stepping around me and met him in the yard.  I listened as she told him this awful thing I had done. Not daring to look at him, I hung my head and waited for the ax to fall.

      My precious father collapsed in a lawn chair laughing so hard he could hardly breathe as I broke into the  tears that had been held back all day. Something had to give at that moment or I would have exploded.

      It was a relief to know that no further punishment was coming my way and it was a long, long time before I could look at a match with cringing.
      Just as I didn't mean to set the outhouse on fire, or the many other things I did that civilized people shouldn't do, children just can't think of the consequences of their actions and shouldn't be expected to act as miniature adults. So the next time your, or one of the neighbors kids, do something that has you shaking your head, screaming, or wanting to take them somewhere the equivalent of the wood shed, remember something that your inner child did and cut the current generation some leeway till they learn........and try to laugh about it..

                                   Nightey Night
                                              

My little girl

     Children are usually trusting souls and it takes a lot to destroy that trust. Once it is, It takes a lot to regain it.  My little girl is between 3 and 4 years old and in the best of times is not shy or sulky. ( She had thrown some major tantrums at times).  However she hid from me for a very long time, refusing to 'come out and play'.  the following is something I wrote during that period to describe the experience

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

        The child’s room is small,containing only a few pieces of furniture. There was a white iron bed with an eyelet dust ruffle and matching comforter, a white cricket rocker with cushions matching the comforter, a small white night-table with a ruffle shaded lamp on it.  The walls are painted white also with an un-curtained window in which the moonlight streams.  It promises peace, comfort, and safety, a sanctuary from anything disturbing.  She has dark hair and eyes and she wears a white nightgown..   But she is not in the room……..I broke my promise to keep her from hurt, not once but three times.  The first was unspoken and she took it for granted.  The second time she hid from me and it took a long time to regain the trust that had been lost.…………Now she hides in the shadows and, though I sense her movement and pain at times, she remains hidden.  I am most aware of her , or the lack of her, late at night when the day’s distraction no longer hold my interest and I long to sleep, but can’t.   I want to cry, but can’t.   I want to do it over, but can’t………I could place the blame at other people’s feet but, ultimately, the responsibility is mine. I let her down over, and over, and over………….To the outside world, I live as if she were in her room, being a part of my daily activities. I keep it hidden that a part of me is missing, pretending that I am a whole person, when my emotions are hiding in the shadows with her.  If you can’t feel, then you can’t hurt.  But if you can’t hurt then joy is absent too.   I have the hope that one of these days she will venture out and see that, even with the mistakes I’ve made, that I am sorry for the betrayals.

....................................................................................................................................................................

     That child will come out and play sometimes, usually when I am not looking for her.  She did let me rock her last night and tuck her into bed without showing her face. She won't look at me............yet.  I am doing my best to be good and protective of her.........If this sounds like a real little girl, then you are getting the point. She is very real and possibly the best part of me............the child lives in all of us and wants what all children want; love, security, a listening ear and even discipline. Just try talking to her/him and see what happens.  I would be interested in any thoughts on your child.  Maybe we can have a play date!

                                      Good night, sleep tight,and don't let the bed bugs bite.

Children

   
                                                                            Children

         VBS wound up the week with parents and grandparents in attendance at a roaring sound-fest.  How many of those children will remember this week? A kind word from a teacher, a gentle touch, the supper, the games,new friends or maybe an answered prayer?  These memories will go with them through life in that child that lives in their mind.

     Some people don't adhere to the theory that the child inside is real. However that doesn't change the fact. When you are abused, ignored, ridiculed, or bullied, that child inside is the one who cries, the one who is ashamed, the one who is afraid, the one who wants and needs comfort.  That child is who throws tantrums, pouts, wants to eat all the chips or ice cream and cookies for breakfast and fights sleep till they are ready to drop. (I have to admit I do that)  Power struggles come from the child who wanted to be first in line, the first picked for games, or picked by the teacher for recognition, one of the popular kids or even first in the eyes of their parents. "Mom always liked you best" attitude. 

       Have you ever wanted the comforting arms or strong presence of you father long after they are gone from this life?  When I was in my late thirties and my world was black as pitch, I walked the floor crying, saying "I want my Daddy!"  He had been dead for 10 years and was beyond helping or protecting me. that didn't alter the fact that my little girl wanted daddy to help her.  

      How many adults do you know that are children in full grown bodies?  The robber who takes what he wants regardless of the victim's feeling, the mean guy in the neighborhood who is always yelling for kids and dogs to keep off his property or the addict who can't face the child inside who is hurting so they 'put them to sleep' to still their voice. 

     So the next time a driver cuts in front of you, tempting you to ram into him, stop and think. Is this any different than someone cutting in line in school.  If a friends seems to snub you so next time you get even by snubbing them even though they didn't see you before and now their child is hurt. 

     This child is also the one who comforts or helps a friend who has been hurt. I have seen children hug another that needed a hug and gave it without wondering what people would think. All they know to do is how they are treated, especially at home.  So the next time you hug a friend who is in pain, or even have the urge to hug someone you hardly know, do it. Your child recognizes they need it.

     On the other side, the child inside is the vicious criminal, the angry adult that cannot get along with anyone, and takes and does anything that he wants.  Children do live what they learn, good or bad.  Even a stranger with a kind smile or word to a child might turn them from the destructive path they have been put on by family that doesn't care.  You see some families that pass it on to generation after generation.  Could that be what the bible means by Sins of the Fathers? 

     The next time you are having a bad day and you want to throw a fit, go to a quiet place, mentally take that child in your arms, tell them you love them, pray for them and tell them you are sorry they are having a bad day.  She/He may just need to be comforted and understood.  the more you try to ignore her/his need, the worse the day will become. Then when you go to bed and can't sleep she/he will be getting even with you,
     Everone is the product of our experiences, including the first 5 years which is when our attitudes and personalities are formed and set for life.  Think about that little girl/boy who was that age or younger and what they needed to become a functioning member of society.  If they are lacking, you can supply it for them. 
     So take care of that child and she/he will become a better adult. 
                          
                                   "the Lord bless and Keep you.
                                 the Lord make His face shine upon you
                                   And be gracious unto you.
                                the Lord lift up His countenance
                                 Upon you, and give you peace."

                                       Numbers6:24
      

   
         This intro was supposed to be the first blog, which was a long time ago. However, being
new to this at the time, I neglected to 'publish' it. So please ignore the mistake and accept it now, pretending that I am more organized than I am. Thanks

          Please allow me to introduce myself: I am 71, a grandmother of two beautiful girls, 2 handsome boys, and one great-granddaughter who range in age from (almost) 23 to 1 month (almost).

     My friends will tell you I am a confirmed yackoholic and enjoy having a captive audience.  Not always a pleasant trait to have and I find it difficult to reign in at times.  Hopefully this blog will help me curb the urge as you have the luxury of turning me off when I weary you!   

      I have learned a few truths in my years on this earth, all by making mistakes which are many and varied.  A lot of things has happened in my life that, when I was young, would only happen to other people.  Maybe there is someone out there that I can touch with some of these truths.  If it helps only one, it will all have been worthwhile.

     I may quote Dr. Phil from time to time as I am a loyal watcher. He says there is no reality, only perception, which I am not in total agreement with.  There is an ultimate reality beyond our limited knowledge. However, this blog is my perception of this world and what I have learned through the years. 

           To quote Red Skelton, "Good night and God Bless"