Plinky Prompt: When was the first time you felt like a grown up?

Yes, they do cry during sessions!

Yes, they do cry during sessions! (Photo credit: photosavvy)

  • When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)? See all answers
  • All grown up?
  • We had just had our first baby and after two and a half years of infertility treatments this little boy was our miracle. He was born at the end of October and we were so careful not to expose him to germs. We did not allow anyone near him if they were sick or if they thought they were going to be sick.
    Nevertheless, at six weeks old, he seemed to have trouble breathing and was congested. We immediately called our pediatrician. I tried to feed him a bottle but he couldn’t drink. The doctor said bring him in right away.
    As my husband started the car and I cradled the baby in my arms underneath a pile of soft blue blankets. I realized for the first time, that I was responsible for this little boy’s life. No one was taking care of me, it was my job now to take care of him. At that moment, even though I felt a moment of  incredible fear run up and down my body, I became a grown up.

Carry on Tuesday: In youth we learn; in age we understand

Fred Carian

Fred Carian (Photo credit: carianoff)

Charles and I were married for 53 years before he passed, alone, in the Alzheimer’s wing of the nursing home.  I am now living in my daughter Kaitlin’s house; I don’t want to be here and I’m sure they feel the same. I don’t blame them. I’m mourning more the loss of my  independence than my husband. I’m 93 and I’ve had enough. It is time for me to die.

Charles and I raised our family in Maine, we were “tough old birds” our children used to say.  But, life brings us nothing but surprises, change found us when we weren’t looking. We were getting older, Charles had gotten himself into a car accident, they took his license away, things were very different now.

We put our house up for sale, even though our children were upset, Charles insisted on moving to Independent Living. I didn’t want that but I had no choice. Not back in those days.

We lived first in Harrison House. It was a white building with a lovely garden. Charlie and I used to sit and admire the pink tulips and the big red rose bush. warm season. When Charles was still well and he could walk, with a cane, he would steal a red rose and give it to me. I would be scared he would get caught but he would just laugh and say “Heck, we’re payin’ for it”and we would laugh. When it got cold we would still be in the sun, with our puffy, blue jackets and our red plaid wool blanket on our laps.

After several months I noticed Charles acting a bit odd but I ignored it. He had just had his accident fairly recently and really what isn’t odd in old age? We forgot things, we misplace things. Getting old is nobody’s friend. I would cover for him when the children came to visit. We taught our children to be strong so I had to be strong, until I couldn’t anymore. I had hidden my feelings so long that they burst like the cold waters gushing out of the levees. Finally, I told them the things their dad was doing and they insisted their Dad see a neurologist. I postponed it twice. Finally, begrudgingly, our daughter Kaitlin forced us to go. She was with me when after all the tests, the doctor uttered the words: Moderate-Late Stage Alzheimer’s. Kaitlin gasped but I knew. I had always known.

He deteriorated rapidly. Once he got violent and struck me, they moved Charles to the nursing home in the Alzheimer’s wing next to where I lived. I stayed in our old room, alone. Charles recognized me once in a while and he would have a good few minutes on and off. The last time the grandchildren visited him he remembered them and I told their parents I did not want the grandchildren to ever come again. I wanted them to remember their grandpa as he was. A living memory. It was the least I could do.

Sometimes he would act like a baby other times he would throw things at me and and talk crazy. Who was this person?  I had difficulty remembering he was my Charlie but he wasn’t. He had completely forgotten who I was and would lash out at me, calling me “bitch woman” and calling me “evil.” “I’ve heard it said that in youth we learn, in age we understand but that’s not always the case. Oh no, not really. I made huge mistakes when I was old, more than when I was young. I pretended he was alright when I knew he wasn’t. I should have stuck up for myself like the girls do these days and  never have sold the darn house. I hadn’t learned a thing and I should have. I knew about Charlie’s illness long before the doctor diagnosed him but I refused to acknowledge it. Had I brought him to the doctor earlier he could have been on medicine to help him. I was an old fool, just a plain old fool. Getting old is the worst of your nightmares times ten thousand. Believe me, I know.

I used to have my life and oh, how I loved it. Independence is such a huge part of being alive, you may not realize that but it’s true. I can no longer drive. I stay in my daughter’s room, most times. On some Sundays, we visit the cemetery where we buried Charles. He was a fine man for many years and he had a terrible, terrible illness that changed him to someone else. I will always love that man I married but we buried a shell of a man who was not my husband. That was a completely different person, a stranger, that man was not my Charlie.

Plinky Prompt, Bye, Bye, Baby, Baby Goodbye… *

Sunrise in the islands.

Sunrise in the islands. (Photo credit: BuzzFarmers)

  • You wake up tomorrow morning to find all your plans have been cancelled for the next seven days and $10,000 on your dresser. Tell us about your week. See all answers
  • Seven days….
  • 1) Make a cup of strong coffee, add half and half and sweetener
    2) Call a travel agent (because really who needs to waste time on those discount websites.
    3)Book a trip to someplace beautiful and WARM, tropical and friendly.Spend five minutes fantasizing about the poolside drinks.
    4)Think about taking a family member or friend. Decide NOT.
    5)Pack, minimum-(enough money for shopping there)
    6)Arrange a limo? No, Personal Assistant arranges a limo.
    7)Leave a note to spouse saying “Went to_____love you, See you in a week!”
  • 8) Go to suite
  • 9) Lie in sun
  • 10) Head to beach
  • 11) Have a massage
  • 12) Shower
  • 13) Enjoy a fabulous dinner
  • REPEAT 6 times

*from The Beach Boys

Haiku Heights – Cacophony

Wind through the Wheat

Wind through the Wheat (Photo credit: David Kingham)

Birds tweet, winds thunder

Seasons fight with noisy swords

Silent depression.

*

Baby crying raw

Dad screams in  red-hot anger

Sandpaper

Sandpaper (Photo credit: ArtByChrysti)

Blue plates thrown, splinter.

*

Ocean spray whistles

Sand paper’s scratchy surface

Two lovers kissing.

crying-baby

crying-baby (Photo credit: bbaunach)

Yellow Magic Madness #6

I was so hoping to post a photo of yellow flowers or budding trees but I have to be honest, they are not out yet and I am being true to my self (even though I feel like screaming and pounding my fists this winter feels so LONG!). The cold winds are still blowing right through me and sometimes I find comfort in a cup of apple spice tea or plain tea with milk and touch of honey. Sit on a comfy chair, put your head back, throw a multi-colored quilt around you, join me in a cup of tea from my yellow teapot and slowly sip. Spring is coming, very, very soon. I promise.

English: A yellow ceramic teapot against a sto...

English: A yellow ceramic teapot against a stone floor, taken by CGS. Public domain. Commons:Category:Yellow Commons:Category:Teapots (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Just One Flight Of Stairs (Mary and Rhoda)

Valerie Harper

Valerie Harper (Photo credit: AlephNull)

I’ve been upset since I heard the horrific news about Valerie Harper’s incurable brain tumor. Every time I think about “Rhoda” my eyes fill with tears. I couldn’t sleep for a week and I was upset and anxious. How could Rhoda be dying? I was in shock as I’m sure millions of other fans were too.

Rhoda, as we knew her, was Mary’s best friend in the

English: Publicity photo of Mary Tyler Moore a...

English: Publicity photo of Mary Tyler Moore and Valerie Harper from The Mary Tyler Moore Show. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“The Mary Tyler Moore Show” and they lived in the same building. I had a best friend like that for a little while when I lived in Boston. Similarly, I lived in my upstairs studio and she lived in the downstairs studio. We didn’t have large initials of the letters of our first names hanging on our walls but I was always tempted to buy them. We always compared ourselves to Mary and Rhoda; they were icons in our lives; they were icons of an entire generation.

My old friend and I worked, lived independently, made money and at night, she and I would go out for dinner. On Saturday nights we would wait for the papers to come out, often eating ice cream sundaes, chocolate ice cream for her, vanilla ice cream for me, with whipped cream and loads of gooey hot fudge sauce dripping over the bowl with a red maraschino cherry on top. I’m not sure of this, but I think she gave me hers. We spent a lot of time together for years and during that time, we trusted each other with our lives. Our friendship ended, but I still remember those days, with fondness.

Valerie was told by doctors she has about three months to live. Three months to live is a blink of an eye. Rhoda/Valerie, when your time comes, I hope your loved ones are by your side and the things you love most, or fresh fruit juice so your lips won’t get dry. I pray you are pain-free. (Make sure you are pain-free, make them promise. In writing!)

I’m so happy that at least you know how happy you made all of your fans. We love you, we always will. We laughed because of you. Thank you, Valerie, for all the love and goodness and laughter you brought into the world for so many people. I grew up with you, it will be very hard to say good-bye. It already is. I will try to relish every second while I can, enjoy every day with the utmost of optimism, love like I have never loved before and laugh as much as I possibly can. I hope other people will do it with me, many others. Let’s do it, in honor, of Valerie.  I think she would like that.

Standing at the crossroads (Carry on Tuesday)

Egretta sacra

Egretta sacra (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The counselors in group say that everyone has a choice. They tell us that every single day. I think they are wrong. The therapists are like old, cranky parrots on repeat play telling us things about how drugs are bad and they can help people with depression or any mental health disorder but I don’t listen that much, I pretend to listen. We sit on a multicolored carpet which is dirty with potato chip crumbs and cigarette butts and empty Diet Coke cans in the corners next to the gray, rubber trash cans.

I sit inside my room, after lunch for “reading and rest” looking at the pale green walls. I come out only for food, meds, eat, group, private therapy or to play solitaire 50. There is one night nurse that I know and she comes on shift at ten pm. She lets me play cards by myself every night for 25 (half of 50) minutes.  Fifty is MY number. The number on my room says it is #3 but it is really #50.  My cards  always add up to fifty.  Nurse Kelly lets me play solitaire because I earned that privilege for my positive behavior. I know.

When I first got here a long time ago, another “inmate” told me I was in the silent mattress room for two days. I had to go in because they said I punched an aide but I didn’t. I’m sure. They must have made that up. I do not remember a lot of things now. I used to have anger “issues” but now when I feel angry I sit in my room, alone. Sometimes I crouch in a corner, words  popping up into my head like popcorn or toast from the toaster. I say stuff out loud, QUIETLY,  like “animals” or “sailboats” or “nuclear weapons suck, but I don’t scream it out loud. I want to but I don’t. I force myself not to. Plus, the medications make my mouth dry and fuzzy so it’s hard to talk. It’s part of my plan. I smile a lot that’s why Nurse Kelly likes me best. I have learned not to tell these things to any of the nurses or doctors or even my friend, Melissa. That’s how smart I have become here. I don’t tell them about the zombies and the power inside me either. That’s my secret.

I am standing at the crosswords of my life, do I let the zombies win or do I win?  I want power.  I hate it when they have the power, sometimes they try to scare me but I know I have the power and it is getting stronger.The voices in my head are getting louder, I put my hands over my ears. I  fold myself into the blanket and rock. The enemy laughs at me, they think they have won, they don’t know anything.  I spit up yellow bile, it lands on the floor. I feel angry but I tell myself ‘NOT YET, NOT YET. Tonight, after dinner and after I play solitaire 50. I have to be extra careful tonight.  For the past three weeks I have asked Nurse Kelly if she could come with me to the bathroom while smiling at her. She used to come with me but after one week she stopped (which I knew that she would) and she says “she trusts me.”

It’s time, the exact time I always have to go to the bathroom and I ask Nurse Kelly if she will come with me to the bathroom. She just smiles and waves her hand and smiles. I have to be extra fast tonight because I am carrying my secret wrapped up in three tissues. I wanted to have fifty tissues but I didn’t need to because 3=50. I whisper to the zombies under my breath.”Not for long motherfuckers.” I want to run to the bathroom but I don’t, I walk normally. I lock the stall. I take the special sharp secret from my pocket that I quickly peel away from the 3/50 tissues. It is shiny, silver, metallic, hard.  I put the secret present to my wrist and I quickly stab it in, over and over again. ” I WIN” I say out loud. I cut up and down my wrists and across them.  I see the blood coming out and I keep slashing until I can’t any more and then I don’t remember anything. Maybe we do all have choices, this was mine. Looking back, maybe I screwed up. I kinda feel bad for my parents. Nurse Kelly found me in the bathroom stall, dead at 10:50 pm.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – Suicide Prevention Crisis

www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK (8255): Suicide hotline, 24/7 free and confidential, nationwide network of crisis centers.

Haiku Heights: Origami

Swallow-tail Kite Bird Flying With Wing Spread...

Swallow-tail Kite Bird Flying With Wing Spread Gliding Through Sky (Photo credit: Captain Kimo)

February 7 2010 - Ballet Pointe Shoes

February 7 2010 – Ballet Pointe Shoes (Photo credit: jackharrybill)

Heart beat

Heart beat (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Tiny ballet feet

twisted in pointe shoes of pink

scatter like scared mice.

*****

Birds of flight, soaring

escaping sadness, run free

My soul cracks in pieces.

*****

See, touch, my scarred heart

Compress air, laid out to die

A faint beat slows down.

*****

Yellow Magic Madness # 5: Peeps

Peeps!

Peeps! (Photo credit: Carol Brownewho is known as my twin peep. For me, peeps must be yellow and eaten around Easter. I know they make Christmas Peeps now, shaped as

My friend Marty and I call each other “Twin Peeps.” We’ve been friends since elementary school. I’ve loved YELLOW peeps all my life. Soft, marshmallow, sugary, yellow peeps: only eaten when Easter is on the way. A sure sign that Spring is around the corner. How can perky yellow peeps not make you grin?

Seth MacFarlane, Fail (Pop Cop)

Seth MacFarlane at the 2009 Comic Con in San D...

Seth MacFarlane at the 2009 Comic Con in San Diego. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

SHOCKER!!! “Seth MacFarlane says he will not return as host of the Oscars.” And…….does anyone want him to? I don’t think so. Guess what Seth, it’s highly doubtful you’ll be asked! I for one, would not even watch any award show that you would host or basically any show you were in.What are you ten? Boob jokes? I thought the Oscars were highly insensitive to women to almost all religions and races, it’s 2013 if you forgot and it is just not right. It was never right but “we thought we had come a long way, baby.” Apparently, not.

I never really knew who you were exactly until someone told me you were the creator of the obnoxious show: “The Family Guy: which I watched once for ten minutes and I thought it was degrading so I turned it off. I know, some people loved it but that’s their choice, not mine. I’m sure some people thought that the awards show was hysterical too. Good for them, not everybody likes the same thing.

The only thing I agreed with you is about how I too, dearly missed Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. When are they coming back? Maybe they could host all the awards show? With that talent I’m sure we wouldn’t even get bored. Ladies, please think about it. Imagine being them now, everyone’s favorite comedy duo, favorite people, favorite comics, that’s heady but it seems like they are handling their fame really well. That’s what people love to see. Trust me.

If I were Seth MacFarlane my ego would be bruised but of course, he wouldn’t admit it, doesn’t seem like he’s the type, right? “Sorry, I went too far, sorry I offended everybody on earth” would have gone a long way.” But being a baby about it and saying “he doesn’t think he wants to host again” is childish. Actually, it’s kind of sad in a pitiful way, like a child who does not want to own up to what they have done; Seth MacFarlane, grow up, you come off sounding like a brat.

Thankfully, I turned off the television at about 10:30 Eastern Standard Time, right after the snippy-Meryl-Streep-commentator-fall-on-the-steps-girl and right before the lovely Adele sang her beautiful song. These days you can still get a good night’s sleep and anything you miss, you can see on Youtube the next day or later in the week if you are so inclined.

All I wanted to do was go to sleep, so I nestled my head on my pillow. The show was boring and insensitive and not really funny at all. But, at least we are all safe from the future because “Seth MacFarlane doesn’t want to host the Oscars again.” You gotta love it.