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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

He’s home again ❤️

Finally my hubby is home. He was gone for 3 days and it felt like a lifetime…but he is home safe and sound. He brought with him a new toy that will last him quite a while. Men and their vehicles…😊

It’s a strange thing but my mother and I named her white van, Bessie and I’ve always wanted to name a car. But my hubby’s cars have always been his, this one is “ours”; even though I won’t be allowed to drive it for a while. I’m fine with that, I like being the passenger… being driven around like a princess. Awesomeness!!

But we are deciding upon a name. The Beast would be good but he already as a vehicle named that, and the Beast is a sweet-sweet. I like the name ‘Big Bertha’ or ‘Burt’ just because it sounds funny and awesome at the same time. He made a face at those names. So he might name it one thing, but when I eventually drive…beware of Big Bertha or Burt!!

Oh Bother…

This is just a brief short bit…

My mom talked to me the other day about how some of my habits were self taught or mimicked from siblings or her. But I have just this minute, discovered a trait that I will probably always have…

I managed to spill coffee all over my new clean shirt that I just changed into…and now I ponder if I should go home and change or just wear it…?

But thanks mom, a habit I wanted to break is probably forever mine.

Love you 

A short poem in your honor…
Coffee

Delicious, 

And warm.

Creamy,

But chilled.

Drinking,

And savoring.

Gulping,

And enjoying.

Slurping…

But spilling.

Contemplating,

But sighing.

Living,

Just messy.

The Dreaded DMV…

It has been a long time since I was at the DMV. It was six years ago, when I was getting my own permit. I was with my mom and, I don’t remember any of it. Now it is my turn to be the adult and bring my brother. He is old enough to sign up for a license. He is so much older, and I cannot really call him my baby bro anymore. It is an honor to take him, but I am now experiencing the dread of the DMV…the waiting with random people sitting around you.

There are two men next to me speaking in a  different language . Two women next to me another language. I have no idea what they are saying. A baby girl keeps staring at me, I guess, she is curious who I am. There is an Australian accent behind me and it is fun to listen to. But the continuous annoying voice saying, “now serving…letter/ #’s at window #” is pretty annoying.

No matter the happiness I feel for my brother, I really don’t want to be sitting listening to people. I probably wouldn’t feel so against it if my coffee hadn’t been awful. My brother chugged his and he almost died. (But his face was priceless after) I need more coffee…coffee makes everything better.

Lack of Warmth

Lack of Warmth.png

Last summer I remember constantly complaining that my Pajamas were too warm for the hot weather, and I also remember having the brilliant idea of cutting all my sweatpants off into shorts. Which wasn’t that big of deal they were already 3 inches too short exposing my bare ankle.

However, even though at the time I thought I was being a genius…I was not. I should have saved a few pairs, as short as they were, for this winter. Because I am running from my room, to the bathroom, to the kitchen, to my desk, inn short pajamas and I am freezing. I know what you are thinking, maybe, that I should go and purchase some new pants that fit me. The problem is I am extremely busy and all of my teachers had decided to be annoying; one of my teachers said this:

“Since we are coming down to the end of the semester I am going to boost the amount of homework I give; because I know that you all are extremely busy in your other classes, but I want you to learn how to deal with unfortunate situations.”

Normally I am fine with loads of homework; I know how to set my schedule up to finish on time or at least get credit the day of for finishing.  But since this I have planned my day to a “T” and it does not involve buying myself warm, beautiful sweatpants for my constantly numb legs. Maybe I will solve my problem by just wearing a blanket like a dress until I hope into bed. That seems more logical then running to get my headphones that I forgot on the other side of the house. Also, I have been waiting for that “look” from my mother; you know the one, the one that means:

“You are making me cold, go put on a sweater,” this line has actually happened a lot through my life, and I have used it on my athletes as well.

But honestly I would prefer to just steal some of her pajamas.  They are so warm and cozy, but then she comes looking for them when she needs a pair and they are dirty.  Then a new look comes; the one where she makes you feel guilty, in a humorous way, for not being able to give back the warmth she had first lent you. She is good at this face; however, I am just as good. She taught me well.

My point to all this is if you did like me and cut off all you pajamas and you have not yet replaced them, do this before it comes unbearably cold. Because it isn’t just the bedtime you need to worry about, in the morning you must decide on whether you desire coffee more than the warmth of the bed…hard decision. But usually for me coffee outweighs the need of warmth. And as I wander to the pot of delicious steaming coffee my legs grow numb and stiff.

If you wish to avoid these terrible feelings and troublesome actions take the time now and replace your long sweatpants. Or if you were smarter and put them away for the winter, bring them out before you need them. If you purchase these pants purchase some slippers as well. Believe me they are worth the investment. I have these, but no pants…I am half way there to beautiful comfort! Good luck and I hope your winter days are filled with some comfort in your nights and mornings