All posts by emily2jane

Who am I? I will describe myself in five words or less: I am a Christian, an athlete, an artist, a geek, stubborn and shy. Never mind just five words, rules are just guidelines. But who am I? I am still undecided...

Hugs…Part 3

Hugs…Part 2

Waking in and out of consciousness is a stressful thing, and it only makes me more stressed so I know I kept falling in and out…I woke to some bread and milk then my body said no and I was asleep again. I woke to a small tickle on my face and a quick larger hand swatting the tickle away, and then I slept…

“Mama, when is she going to wake up? She has been asleep too long. I don’t want her to die on my favorite couch,” tiniest squeak of a voice said in a whisper.

“Hush Annie, she can still hear you. She will be fine; one day soon, when it is finally time, she will come back to us.”

…Unknown number of days…

I have been consistently awake for a few days; I don’t know how many other days I was out of it. The mother is quite sweet; her daughter is too, but I think she still sees me as someone scary or someone who might just drop dead.

The house looks different in the inside. It truly looks like a child took to the walls and colored them however they wanted. With the personality of this little girl, this does not surprise me. The mom did a nice job of hiding away the shadows and blandness of the house. “Have you lived here long?”

The little girl’s mouth gaped open, probably because she thought I lost my voice, due to me being so ancient.

“We have been here since she was three, so almost five years now. You seem to know this house, can I ask you about your past?”

Embarrassed by the question trying to hide my feelings it said, “Oh, I just know about the history of the house. About forty years ago I knew this house very well.” After finishing my sentence I know I must have dazed off because I thought back to the child, the little child that would have changed my… ‘Nope,’ thinking to myself, ‘I won’t live through it again.’

Little Annie must have gotten bored because she skipped away into the kitchen. Probably looking for some mischief she could get muddled in.

“Yes the orphanage; I too knew that place well,” the mother sighed.

The sigh from the mother showed her true stress lines and wrinkles. “If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”

She chuckled, “I’m a ripe olé fifty-two almost fifty-three. I know sometimes I don’t look it, but that’s for Annie’s sake.”

She paused for a minute, checking the surroundings, “Annie isn’t mine; she is mine, but I adopted her. It seemed fitting, I grew up in an orphanage and never married, because I was here up until they foreclosed. I bought the place with the money from a horrible lawsuit; so that no one could use this home for an orphanage again. Annie was three when I found her living in a cardboard box down the street. I did all the legal things to find her a home and they kept saying she would be put in the foster system. So instead I took her home with me and she is officially mine. It’s a wonderful feeling being able to give someone the feeling of love that you have been longing for your whole life.”

This is a strong woman sitting before me; she did what I dreamed of, she claimed the little one as her own and she seems stronger for it. Even though I was going to guess she was only thirty-five, not the large amount of fifty-something. Thinking about this woman’s accomplishments stirred up my failures; they just seem to keep coming back. “You have done a marvelous job with this little girl; you have given her, what I wished I had been able to have done way back when. I’m going to bestow my little bit of personal failure on you, because it’s not going away and I feel like I need to talk it out before my time comes.” Looking at the woman hoping I have her full attention.

She was already staring at me intently, but she paused a moment, “Annie, what are you up to? Are you getting into trouble?”

“No mama, I’m just playing with my dolls in the living room!” Her small voice bellowed through the halls to us. “Sorry,” she said as she gave my attention again, “I get paranoid when she is silent.”

When I knew I had her attention, I told her my story and my failures…

I knew my story would hit close to her heart, because an orphan just wants a home. To hear a story from someone who chickened out on giving the child their dream is earthshattering for anyone but especially to an orphan. I couldn’t really read the mother’s expression; she seemed to have heard me but she seemed to be off in a distance.

Abruptly, the mom got up and said, “Excuse me a moment,” and she left the room.

‘I insulted her,’ I thought to myself. I wish I could just croak now so I wouldn’t have to indulge in criticism.

She abruptly came back into the room holding something…the laurel…

Bestow

Hugs…part 2…

Hugs…Part 1

…Thirty years later…

Every day I think back to the young girl who could have changed my life. I see her poised little body sitting in the chair with the beautiful laurel in her hair; I see her eyes shiny with excitement for her new journey, that didn’t include me and that’s where the wonderful memory ends. I haven’t truly moved on since that day. I’m seventy-three now and I have never moved on or amounted to anything.

After that day, I moved to Idaho; to a small town out in the middle of nowhere. Where great big trees were my fortress and I had to live only with the necessities. But now as I grow older, my distance neighbors and the county are kicking me out back to civilization, because they fear I’ll just drop dead and no one will notice. So I must go back to where I escaped from, and swore never to return.

Bring back it’s the same here; It’s crowded and loud. There isn’t enough space to call your own; everyone is stepping on everyone’s toes. In a parallel world, I would have lived my life out healthy and alive on my property in Idaho and I would have died there without the feeling of pain. Instead I have to endure not only death, but I have to withstand all the emotions in a crowd of thousands, while slowly being battered as I walk down the sidewalk to my new, last home.

My new last home…it’s a care giving home, so technically is an old person waiting to die home. It would have been refreshing to have the woman take me to my apartment say here is your bed you shall live out your days, until God comes and takes you back. But no they have to be non-genuine, with fake smiles, and tell you everything will be fine. They are not going to like me very much; but alas this is my new home and hopefully it will all be over soon.

…Ten More Years Passed…

‘Poop,’ that what I said to my myself about my never dying body, ‘Poop.’ “Well since I’m not getting any younger I’ll go out today,” I stood up from the game of hearts and started to the door.

“I’m sorry mam but you can’t go anywhere; you are getting too old to be in the world alone,” the daft nurse with the clouded eyes said. “I must insist you sit back down.”

“And if I won’t. What would I have to do to leave this place?”Standing firm and stubborn in my ways.

“You would have to leave our care and you wouldn’t be allowed to come back without paying the entrance fee again.”

Smart on their part, because it cost an arm and a leg to get in here and I wouldn’t be able to afford it again. Well…”Okay goodbye. Help me collect my things.” Probably dumb on my part, but I’m at the end of my ropes anyways so it doesn’t really matter.

It’s amazing how in ten years things can change. Trying to hail a cab to take me away from here, it seemed like the population tripled and all of them are storming the walkway. I’m no longer being slowly battered it’s more like quickly assaulting. Finally in the cab I’m away from it all.

“Where to Mam?” the heavily accented cabby said.

“Just drive that way, take me to a quiet neighborhood.” Feeling a bit exhausted from my two minute encounter with civilization. “Wake me when you think the place is quite enough for me.”

“Yes Mam,” and he was off.

And I slept.

“Mam, we here,” the cabby said as he pulled the back passengerdoor open.

He shook me slightly, probably concerned I died in his back seat. I fluttered my eyes open and I heard a sigh of relief escape his mouth. “Where are we? And what time is it?”

“It’s seven-thirty at night, and we are in a quiet little neighborhood just like you asked.” He seemed in a hurry to get me out of the car. He was setting my luggage on the curb and carefully pulling me from the seat. “That will be eighty-three dollars and twenty-three cents.”

“Wow…I didn’t know it would be that much.” I handed him a hundred and expected the change back but he left. “Poop, my day keeps getting better and better.” The neighborhood around me looked familiar, but up-scaled. There were apartment’s five stories tall; mansions every other house with crazy architectural advancements, like: one had almost a fifteen foot entrance door, a different one had flying buttresses or gargoyles, and others had lion statues along their drive ways. In front yards of condos, people put up privacy fences eight feet tall. Then, it seemed like clockwork, as all the yards awoke with sprinklers. However lastly, I saw the endearing old house at the end of the street on the corner resurfacing my memories; everything about the house is the same, maybe except the new sprucing of paint and windows.

“You just couldn’t let me die without coming back, could You?” God has such a way of doing things. I had been having an inkling I had to come back, but I was hoping I was wrong, but nope. “Now what? You have laid out this plan, so now what?” I must look like a crazy old lady yelling at the clouds. Suddenly it started pouring; God has a good sense of humor. “Right, now they have to let a poor old woman in if she is out in the cold rain, nice one.”

I enter the gate and it hit me; this house, my memories, my pain…do I want to hit that dead on. “Don’t be scared you old bat, no one will remember you or recognize you; you’re old,” as I barely climbed the porch stares, “Stupid old knees.” The door was before me. The door that I never wanted to pass through again. The one that I walked through and swore on my life that I would never bring forth the pain again… I knocked.

A small girlish opened the door and scream! She slammed the door and ran away screaming.

“Well that’s not what I expected; that was a new response. Are you laughing up there?” I knew He was. Again I heard movement in the house.

This time a young woman opened the door, “Oh my goodness, please come in. I’m so sorry you were not let in sooner.” The woman ushered me in as she gathered my belongings. “Annie, get me some warm milk and a large blanket. Hurry!”

I heard a small pitter-patter across the floor and something being wrapped around me…then all went black.

…To Be Continued…

Parallel

Hugs…

…Tuesday 3rd…

“If I could wish for anything, I think it would be a family,” the young girl said, sitting across from me; while she twisted her long locks between her fingers.

Another average foster child, another one wishing for love from another. In my line of work, I have counseled many children, all the same, wishing for a family to sweep them off their feet and make them feel like a prince or princess. Sadly for this girl, she was beyond the age of people wanting to adopt; adopting a spirted twelve year old is different than a newborn or someone under the age of five. This is the sixth visit we have had. “Lizzy, what would a family do for you?” asking an obvious question, but my job demands these stupid ones.

“I would feel that feeling that everyone speaks of…” she pondered a moment, “being protected, being loved unconditionally, feeling that amazing feeling you get when someone gives you a sincere hug. I want to experience the feeling of being seen as more than just a charitable cause.”

These kids…they would melt your heart if you could see the small tears forming at the eyes. “Anything new happening for you?” I wish I could pick my own questions.

“Nothing so far… there is a family that walks by our gate every morning. The mom is so beautiful, the kids are smiling and laughing, they are the typical perfect family. I’m older than the children by maybe two years; they always stare at me wondering why I stay day after day in the yard of this house…”

Her eyes just drifted into nothingness, seeing so much hope and sadness in a young person is heartbreaking…

“BEEP, BEEP, BEEP…” my blaring alarm stopping my train of thought.

“Well that’s it for the day, did us talking help you at all?” Another stupid question because it only does so much.

“Yes it did Miss Ann. You always help me relax and settle before our next session. You keep me calm through the week.” She said with a smile, but a broken smile.

I’m not allowed to, it’s against the rules as a counselor but, “Lizzy, would it give you more strength if… would you like a hug?”

“No thank you, Miss Ann, I want my first real hug to be from someone who truly loves me.”

‘That could be me,’ I thought to myself, not daring to utter the words. “Alrighty, Lizzy,” I said as I gathered my belongings and hid my rejected feelings away. “I’ll see you next week.” I left the almost teen in the doorway as I always did, but I left with an indescribable feeling.

…Tuesday 10th…

Again sitting across the child, with a new feelings towards her. This past week had been crazy and strenuous, but finally Tuesday had come. “How…” before I could finish I was cut off…

“Miss Ann, guess what, guess what?! That family that walks by every day, the younger boy gave me this,” she produced from her cubby a laurel, but this one had small flowers woven between the leaves.

“Its beautiful Lizzy, it is a beautiful laurel.” I said hoping to move onto more pressing matters.

“A laurel that’s what it’s called. I was wondering and now I know!” She placed it on her head and sat with poise like she was a princess. “He said he would be here tomorrow to talk to me about something, I’m so excited! I’m going to be part of a family!”

My heart shrank, and I stuffed the folder I had produced back into my briefcase. “That sounds wonderful my…Lizzy. I’m so happy you will have your wish come true,” saying this as best as I could, hiding my true feelings.

“Yes, Miss Ann, you are a genie to all kids, you use your power to grant everyone’s wishes. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!” she ran towards me and gave me a hug…a hug…

“Wait Lizzy, you are wasting your first hug…” I let go of her, even though I wanted to keep that hug forever.

“No, I decided my genie deserved the first hug.” She gave me the sweetest smile and scurried off.

Our scheduled meetings were not mandatory, if she didn’t need to talk she didn’t have to stay.

She popped her back in the room, “I will be your genie; I give you one wish. You can cash in the wish whenever and it will come true even if I am no longer here. Goodbye Miss Ann. Thank you for everything!” Her head disappeared into the house.

The woman of the house came in, “Did you tell her? She seemed quite excited…Miss?”

“I’m sorry, no, I never got the chance. She has a family stopping by tomorrow to see her so I didn’t want to ruin her wish.”

“Yes, the family did call, but I don’t think…”

I cut her off before she could say what I know she would say, “All is fine. I just wanted to change her life, and she would have changed mine as well. I will be transferring out of this house as the counselor, I’ll make sure someone good takes my place. Thank you for helping me this last week with the paper work. No matter what happens please don’t contact me about the result of tomorrow. I wish her all the best” I gave the woman the folder I would no longer need, and I walk towards the door I will never enter again.

“I heard she gave you a wish, was she…” She asked the question, she already knew the answer…

“Yeah, she was my wish and I had hoped I was hers.” I walked away from this life, and into hopefully a less heartbreaking one.

…To Be Continued…

Genie

Is it truly Complicated?

“Love is a complicated thing”…that’s what most people say.

I don’t; fake love, forced love, or even a wanted love that God indicates it’s not the right time, of course, are complicated. Believing that love is there when it’s blatantly not, is always complicated. Or forced love…forced love is almost exactly like fake love but it feels worse. Because if it has to be forced, then occasionally the other person is not faithful, or they are manipulating you for their own gain. But the one that got me countless times was the wanted love…wanting, but God implying it was not the one for you or that it is not the time. Wanting something so badly and constantly being shut down or cut off, also, if you ignore the signs given to you, you result to either fake or forced.

But don’t fret; there are many roosters in the world, but to find one that is loyal you must have outside help. For me when the right rooster came along it was easy; we were perfect. It had its ups and downs but my rooster stayed with me through the toughest of times. God helped me find my rooster and without His help, I was only finding fake or manipulating ones.

Now my rooster and I have been married almost 6 months, and we are thinking about having some miniature ones. It won’t be until we are a little more settled, but soon, we will have baby chickens or roosters running around.❤️

I know this post is a little odd, but I wanted to tie in the daily prompt to my daily drawings…I won’t do this every day, but I thought it would be fun for a while.

Fret

Old to new…

I found this old present my mother gave to me, and of course it became another thing I didn’t finish…but it doesn’t mean I won’t finish it now.

It’s a great thing for an artist, because it stimulates your brain and makes you draw new and different things…

😊

As the caption of the picture says…’Gum stuck under desk’ by emily2jane

Thanks mama 😊❤️

Friday

The glorious day of Friday is here 😊❤️!!

Things that happen on there marvelous day of Friday: I get to work about 5 hours of overtime; I get to go to my mother’s house and putter; I get to go home early with my mister; we take a long beautiful, but exhausting hike; lastly, we don’t have to wake up early Saturday morning! Even though that just means waking up at 6:30, instead of 5:30…but it does make a difference.

Enjoy your spectacular Friday, because no matter what mine is going to be wonderful. More than likely, I’ll spend it sitting, sleeping, or slightly moving; but most definitely, with a lot of smiling. 😁

Some art to start the smiling process…

Sunsets/ sunrises from different states. All photos taken and edited by emily2jane.❤️

Idaho Sunrise’ by emily2jane

‘Utah Sunset’ by emily2jane

‘California Sunrise’ by emily2jane