Tag Archives: remember

Dreams and Reality

Do you remember your first kiss upon my lips? That was the moment you captured my            heart and it was that day in the world of reality where our love began .                              My heart was racing and my thoughts were running along beside you into the land of                dreams where you easily convinced me that we belong  together.                                        Even  though I really knew it would only be in the land of dreams; so I remained with                you from that moment on anyway.     

The land of dreams is where our love began to blossom and the longer our                                       conversations became,                                                                                                                             the deeper our love grew, but the many words of love we spoke confused me;                   I’d suddenly find myself back in world of reality; and you always came to take me back              with you into the land of dreams. It never failed.                                       

With your sweet words of love you’d escort me so gently back into the land of dreams to             always have me by your side.                                                                                                                    But I do so want to stay in the world of reality because lies surround me in the land of                  dreams and are always found, I couldn’t hide so I would run away.                                     But, you are always able to bring me back into the land of dreams with ease, and that               is also why I have to leave you there in the land dreams and return to the world of               reality.                                                                                                                                                                  The land of dreams always tries to hide the lies, but they’re always found.                                                                                        

Where do you live today my love? I toss and turn in the sleepless nights I have many                      times.                                                                                                                                                                     I could not survive in the land of dreams forever and I needed to return to the world of               reality; lest my heart would break from your hiding the truth from me.                            I know you did and still do that’s why I wish you would join me here in the world of                        reality, but alas, I know you are not able to do so, for the dreams try to hide the                    lies but how could they?                                                                                                                           That is what the land of dreams is made of; little lies that grow up and anchor                                   themselves in your very heart until nothing but lies comes back out of the heart.                                                                                             

Although my heart  may always want to live there with you in the land dreams, you will                 take my heart and try to protect in the clouds, but I told you that the lies always                   win over the dreams because that’s all dreams are made of.                                                  I don’t want to live in the land of dreams anymore and that is why I have to leave you.                                                                                                               

Because here in the world of reality is where my heart will forever live, carefree, and                     ready to find true love right here in the world of reality.                                                          Try to remember the year 2020 with fondness; for it was a very good year in the land of                 dreams.                                                                                                                                                               I fell asleep on the clouds so soft, I could have remained in the land of dreams  forever                 with you.                                                                                                                                                          Still, the world of reality kept calling me but it was a little lie that awakened me and                         then I truly knew lies are always found; for they cannot hide there in the land of                    dreams.                                                                                                                                                         So I have to return to the world of reality. Where my favorite little lie cannot grow into                    a big one.

You play so innocently, on top of the clouds and shout I love you without a doubt.            My favorite lie was the the that could shout so loudly but I had to squish it there in the                       land of dreams because I could not take it with me into the world of reality         As for me, I would rather lose you with the truth  than win you with a lie.                 Goodbye my love. I will never forget you.

                                                                                         

A Writing Assignment

There was a time I was shy and it was in my childhood years. The feelings within me were too much for me to bear alone, but alone I did bear them as everyone else did. I was only five or six years old. It’s truly strange that they were so severe that I wanted to go to sleep and not wake up, but every morning I would wake up. I wanted to die but I didn’t know how to do that. If I could just disappear, I would have been happy. I never could do that either. So, onward I grew into an adult, but there were a few personal recognitions along the way along with badly needed validation from peers.
Therefore, I grew up despite my inadequacies. Along the way, there were far too many bumps, I thought. When I grew up and looked back at my childhood there were some good times, and there were a few times that I did shine in my own right. Remembering an assignment that we had to do on the spur of the moment, the teacher asked us all how we would act if we found a mouse in our slipper when we got out of bed. The teacher called on each of us in no particular order; but I never understood why she usually called on me last and this time was no different. Each student did nothing but yawned, stretched, put their slippers on ran and screamed. I am so glad that I was last because I thought the way they were all doing the same thing was pretty boring.
When finally, my turn came around I yawned too, but I also wiped the sleep from my eyes, stretched, and yawned again. I then picked up one slipper put it on and put my foot back on the floor. I then slipped my other foot into the other slipper, made a puzzled face, wiggled my foot, and then I picked up my slipper, looked in it, shook it; and as the mouse fell out and scampered away, I drew in a deep noisy breath, made my eyes widen, put a terrified look on my face and then disgustedly I threw the slipper on the floor. The entire class was laughing and so was the teacher. It made me smile.
My teacher applauded me and said that is what would happen in a real situation. She asked what I did differently than everyone else did. So she called on some to answer the questions, and then she added that you had to look in the slipper to see what it was first before you would react. She praised me in front of the class. I did shine inside and out the rest of the day. Who would’ve thought that school could be fun? I found that I loved improvising.
This class was on writing and public speaking and I loved it. Another time comedy was on the agenda. We were all to write a story about a funny way something was invented. I told my dad I was stuck and didn’t know what to write about. My dad said he had an idea. I could write on how the twist was invented. I asked what he meant he said maybe an ice cube had somehow fallen inside a fat lady’s dress. I thought about that and since it was freezing cold while it was melting, she would first turn one way and then other just trying to get the ice cube out of her dress without reaching down inside her dress to get it. Then it finally fell out but not before everyone was laughing and the kids started doing this new dance, they called it the twist and from then on, the twist has been a big fat hit.

It was then that I became aware I could do something pretty well. I could write, and I found that every time I wrote something and one of my peers read it, I found validation in their expressions after reading it. I loved writing. I found that I could make people feel something in appreciation whether it was funny, sad, or just a feel-good story. I found that people could identify with the things I wrote about. It didn't matter if it was written for them or someone else. My writing was not meaningless. Each story meant something to the reader because they could identity with the feelings or a similar situation, they may have found themselves in at one time. No, each person has a talent of some sort, and their talent is not wasted on someone who admires their work. Whether someone hated it or loved it, I find validation in their comments they leave on my posts. It made them feel something and that is validation. My work is not trash to anyone for whom the article was not written. I write about feelings, human nature, and life in general.
Somehow, as time went on, I grew from a shy child that could hardly speak above a whisper, to a woman who could voice her own feelings though writing.  In time I found that others appreciated what I have experienced in life and felt through those experiences and I saw that they could identify with the same things we are all exposed to in life. Yes, many have come from dysfunctional families, and then there are others that came from what is considered normal too. I never did know that and through my writing I found that to be true. It was time, circumstances, effort, and validation from others that brought me out of my shell and blossom into a writer that is capable, as are many others, to express their thoughts in writing that are able to strike a nerve whether good or bad.

The Flying Fork

When my stepdad came into the picture, I was about 11 years old. There were five of us kids, four girls, and one boy. My older sister was eight years older than I was and she had just left home; she joined the W.A.C.S to get out on her own.

Jack asked us if he could marry our mom which I was very impressed with and the four of us said yes even though my brother didn’t fall in love with him like the rest of us did. He met my mom just 3 weeks before she married him./span>

We weren’t sure what to call him after they married 2 months later. Our new stepfather thought that it would be appropriate to call him daddy-Jack since our biological father was still alive and had visiting rights. It wasn’t long before I dropped the Jack and just called him daddy. Not long after that, my sisters did the same, but my brother just always called him Jack. Ronny only approved of them marrying after he observed how well he treated mom and how happy she was now.

Ronny was older and remembers the fights, the screaming, the pushing and shoving that went on between my father and mother. I was only six when they separated and remember some fighting, but he remembered a lot more. The house was now quiet with the only fighting that went on was between us kids which were quite normal.

Since my daddy had money when he was a kid, he was raised with impeccable manners. We, on the other hand, were very inept and crude in ours. His manners followed Emily Post, and ours was sort of fashioned after the three stooges. He was not too impressed with the way we reached in front of everyone to get what we wanted. He just watched us for a while and didn’t say anything.

One day came along that he could no longer stand it. He could no longer bite his tongue even though he wanted to give us time to adjust.to him being a part of our family. He talked about what was polite and not polite and started with the things that bothered him the most. I guess that chewing with our mouth open and talking with food in our mouths was the first thing he tackled. The correction came by way of verbal reminders. It didn’t take long to get these bad habits almost all under control when I got a big surprise one day.

I reached for the pot roast which was sitting in front of my sister who was sitting next to me at the dinner table. When I reached for the dish, I got stabbed with a fork. Well, that was a strange thing to do and it shocked me, and don’t even mention the pain on the back of my hand. I pulled my hand back and glared at daddy-Jack. I couldn’t help but wonder why he just did that. The twins started to laugh.

I just glared at him. He finally asked me if I knew why he did that. I said “NO” with tears in my eyes. He said that Emily Post, the leading authority on manners, says that reaching in front of someone is very bad manners. I asked, “How else can I get it without picking the dish up myself?” He then said these foreign words to me that I will never forget. He said, “You ask someone to pass the ‘whatever it is you want'” “From now on if anybody forgets to do that, the fork will be on the move again.”

The only thing I could think to say as I rubbed the back of my hand, with tears still in my eyes was,” Okay Jack, next time I will ask someone to pass me the ‘whatever.'” I never got stuck in the back of my hand again, and soon after started calling him daddy once again.

He was a wonderful father to us and thought of us as his own children. We were his family and we came first. He always told his secretary that if one of his family members’ calls and want to talk to him he told her to always put the call through to him even if he was in a meeting. I remember many times coming home from school and if he was there, we’d always go into his study and talk. I couldn’t talk to my mother, but I could always talk to my dad and tell him anything because he understood, he didn’t judge me, and he just listened.

I was forever worrying that the man I thought of as my father would die not knowing how much I really loved him. On his dying bed, he called me to come close he wanted to talk to me. When I leaned over, he begged me not to ever forget him. I started to cry and told him I was always afraid he would die without knowing how much I loved him. We both cried and laughed at the same time as I told him that of course, I wouldn’t forget him as long as I was alive. That was the last time I saw him, he died the next day before I could get back to the hospital.

I now think fondly of the fork that stabbed the back of my hand. I cried for weeks when daddy died and the flying fork will forever remain a memory.

Casual; has it gone too far?

 

When I was in school, mind you I’m giving away my age, we had to wear dresses or skirts, and boys had to wear dress pants and dress shirts. There were no exceptions, nor were there any excuses. It was automatic that you put them on and it was expected with no variations to that rule. It was the school dress code and girls dresses and skirts could not be above the knee. It had to be just below the knee or longer or you were sent home no questions asked.

As a matter of fact, I was a senior in high school before the code changed. The schools became a little less strict on the matter. They dared to let girls wear pant suits and this was allowed for the girls. Boys dress didn’t change yet. Girls pant suits had to match top and bottom with a blouse if it didn’t cover the below the neckline. The style in that day was that the neckline was covered. I felt absolutely scandalous wearing pants to school. It was utterly unheard of.

The next style to appear on the scene were mini skirts. Oh my goodness! That was allowed in school but it could not be any shorter than 3 inches above the knee. Already thinking that was showing too much, never would anyone be catching me wearing one of those kinds of dresses. That’s what I thought. Bob, my boyfriend at the time want me to wear one, so he gave it to me for a gift, all wrapped up in pretty paper. I already thought that the school dress code had gone too far. In fact, when I was wearing a pantsuit I had felt as if I should have a dress on. Bob knew my opinion, but wanted me to wear one anyway.

Casual was the word for these mini skirts dresses and skirts. I wore one out on a date with Bob. He loved it and I hated it. I felt positively naked in it. I kept trying to pull it down over my knees, but every time I tried to pull it over my knees, he would push my hand away. I hated this dress and I hated Bob for making me wear it. Our heads clashed once the two piece bathing suit came out. I gave in and bought myself a two piece bathing suit, but I found my own style of two piece. I bought a two piece that covered the midriff and the bottom was the length of our gym shorts had been, and our behinds did not hang out.

Anything goes today and nothing is casual really, that is not according to the words above. So be careful ladies.

The Flying Fork

 

When my stepdad came into the picture, I was about 11 years old. There were five of us kids, four girls, and one boy. My older sister was eight years older than I was and she had just left home the year before when she turned 18. She joined the W.A.C.S to get out and away from home.

Jack asked us if he could marry our mom which I was very impressed with and the four of us said yes even though my brother didn’t fall in love with him like the rest of us did. He came from money but drank it all in his early years. He was broke and just out of jail when he met my mom. They met at an AA meeting and he fell in love with her. Continue reading The Flying Fork