Saturday, May 12, 2012

Don't Mistaken a Kind Heart for Weakness...

I couldn't think of a better reason to re-ignite my blogging, than to share with you a story of a humble man with a gentle brother.

You can't judge a book by it's words have ever rang more true when it came to my late brother Ricky. He passed away two days ago, suffering from a massive heart warning...holding his granddaughter one minute...gone the next.

Upon receiving the news, I was instantly overcome with guilt. I began questioning myself as to why I had let months pass without calling him, why I had not known he had moved, why I had not made the effort to congratulate him on his first granddaughter born this year, and why I had broken a vow that we had made several times in the past...keep in touch.

Ricky was only one of seven children my mother gave birth to, before meeting my father & having me. In case you didn't quite catch that...he was my half brother. I just shuttered typing that...not once in my life time, have any of us ever used that term. We were brothers & sisters, I just happen to have a different father than the rest of them, which only meant that..I was the baby.

The oldest of us was my sister, Tooter. I think I was almost 10 years old before I found out her real name was Benita. She had her first child only months after I was born...and I'm pretty sure there is still a picture out there somewhere of her & my mother modeling there big bellies. Tooter was a strong, hard working woman that was quick to tell you what was on her mind. She had assumed the responsibility of keeping the family close together after my Mom passed away. This had to prove difficult, since all of us had moved from home when Momma died...but trust me, when Tooter called informing you of Christmas dinner...she didn't ask if you could make it, she told you what time you better be there. She continued to host the Christmas & Thanksgiving dinners, the 4th of July cookouts, and all the other required family get-togethers until she passed away from brain cancer. Things kinda fell apart after her death. All of us tried to keep up the traditions, only to fail miserably. The dinners & cookouts gradually changed into funeral home potlucks...and pledges. Let me explain that last sentence: We all loose contact with each other; Someone dies; We meet at the funeral home; We promise to see each other more; We don't. Hell, we even pledged not to break the pledge, not so long ago at our brother's funeral..and I'm pretty sure that didn't last a month. Anyway, for whatever reasons, life consumes us and we forget to call and then the next thing we know...another one of us is gone, and all we are left with is guilt & broken promises. This is exactly what I have felt the last two well as re-living our memories together.

Our family has been flooded with condolences, the "I'm Sorry's", prayers, and stories including Ricky. I have heard a hundred times how kind he was and how loving of father he was...and he was. He used to crack me up driving his two daughters and all their friends around in the mini-van...being tortured by pre-teen girl talk & pop music. He never complained though, they just voiced their demands and he would oblige. "Good ole Rick"...that's what we would call him upon seeing him chauffeuring them around town. Some people might even say he was a push-over for letting those kids run him around like that, but those people would be wrong...very wrong.

He lived a very modest life, didn't have much, and worked way too hard for way too little. From the outside looking in, it would seem he wasn't that fortunate. He lived his life by this design: Work hard, Posses little & be a Father 24/7. Didn't matter how tired he was, or what he had planned...his children's plans came first. He never really had any personal time or possessions...He would wear holes in his jeans and his shoes without soles...and get this, he NEVER complained. It was exactly what he wanted, What was important to him was being a good parent...a parent that was always there when needed. He didn't want rest when he was tired...he wanted his children to know that they were worth driving across town after a long day's work and little sleep. I know why...

He didn't have that growing up.

He was abandoned by his Mother when he was a child. She took out walking to the store one day, and just didn't come back. Seven parents. Two of them were old enough to live on their own, the newborn was gave up for adoption, and the other four went into foster care. Two of those four were not old enough to remember...Ricky was one of the two that could remember. I'm sure he never forgot how it felt to be left behind that day. Unwanted, full of fear, wondering what he had done for her to up and leave them all alone...and why she didn't love him enough to stay and take care of them. Those same feelings made him the father that he was...devoted, loving, and always there when they needed or wanted him. All the material things didn't matter to him. His success was his children knowing that they were the most important creatures in his life...and successful he was.

One last thing....Tomorrow is Mother's Day, and I know what you just read had to paint a pretty horrible picture of our mother, but you must know that she loved each one of us dearly, and wanted nothing more than to be a good Momma...she was just not capable of doing that 100% of the time. It was no fault of her own...and my brothers & sisters made peace with that, as well as with her. So, please don't be quick to judge her.......because her story has yet to be told.

Friday, February 10, 2012

I Need S'MORE Friends Like You!

Valentine's Treat Bags

I recently saw this cute idea on ....and was absolutely ecstatic about making them for my daughter's Valentine's party at school. I did have difficulty finding a downloadable template that would work with the bag that I had purchased (3"x4" plastic jewelry bags from the craft section at Wal-Mart), so I made my own!

In each bag, I placed the following:

2 small Graham Crackers (rectangular)
1 Miniature Hershey Bar
4 Miniature Marshmallows

(Snip topper below, copy, paste in Word, and resize to 3"x4")

Breaking the graham crackers into 4 sections was the hardest part...I keep breaking them apart uneven! (hehe) Once all items were zipped into the bag, I simply printed out the label and folded it over the top of the bag and stapled....waaalllhaaa!


Friday, December 10, 2010

My Submission to this weeks 100 word entry. Prompt word...WILD!!

A Patriot is a person who loves, supports, and defends his or her country and its interests with devotion.

Pride is a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.

We are Patriot Pride….and the following words, describe our never forgotten, wild ride:

Dynasty, heart, grit, determination, triumph, endurance, collaboration, humble, force, compassion, strength, commitment, teamwork, responsibility, devotion, pride, power, purpose, might, intensity, willpower, spirit, obligation, dedication, loyalty, cooperation, family, conquer, gratification, modest, honor, privileged…..and a memory that will forever last a lifetime.

I love you #57 Christian Hunter will always be my "Boy of Fall"!!

Patriot Pride from Western Kentucky Photojournalism on Vimeo.

Friday, November 5, 2010

This One is for "Real Wife"

So, I have a buddy at work....Mitch, aka Peanut Butter. We sit side by side in an open cubicles, and he is subjected daily to my constant outbursts, mumbles, aw-shits, blond moments, family problems, money problems, and stupid questions. He definitely has to be a good friend, for not moving his desk yet....hehe

Any who, one day his wife, Marsha, looked at him as said, "Amy is your work wife!". Don't get this twisted, this statement was not made out of jealously...she's just cool like that! Plus, she is a super awesome person. As a matter of fact, they are both pretty awesome. Neither one has a judgmental bone in their body, they are willing to help out anybody, unique in a good way, and stand behind what they believe in (no fence riding). In other words, they are themselves 24/7 and really don't care if you like it or not....(LOVE IT~) So, since the fore said comment...we have referred to each other as Work Wife & Real Wife.... now for the rest of the story:

A recent Facebook Posting of mine: "What's on my mind?" I hate meetings! Where should I put my Christmas tree this year? ACS boys are gonna take home state! Wonder what skin-so-soft is made of?

Real Wife's Comment: LOL Blog Post!

Here you go Real Wife....

Definition of my thought process:  Had a horrible day, that ended in a late afternoon meeting. One of those meetings where you count the tiles in the ceiling....Arrived home still bitter about the STUPID meeting, wishing I didn't have to work! Decided, not only did I have to work, I really need to work some overtime because Christmas is right around the corner......Oh man, Christmas! I always put up my Christmas tree up, the day after Thanksgiving, every year...where should I put it this year? Den or Living Room?...Gosh, I can't believe it's almost December...ewww ewww, State Play-off's are on Dec. 3rd! My ACS boys are gonna take it all this year!! That would be such a great life long memory for Christian....I am going to get that Shadowbox and frame his jersey for him so he can reminisce about these times, for years to come.....I need to get that jersey clean first! Damn grass stains! Oh, I know!! Skin-so-soft! That stuff will take out any it will also remove tar from your car.......damn, I take a bath in that shit too.....can't be good for ya.....wonder what it's made of?

Dadaaahh! I am not that crazy after I? ;-)

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

100 Word Challenge: Prompt "Harsh"

"Haunting Decisions"

She sits staring at the welcoming white line on the glass of the coffee table, reflecting on the unbalance events in her life. She is embraced by vivid thoughts of burnt bridges, devastating forest fires, and frayed hangman nooses. The music brings her back to her tarnished, dimly lit reality. The brush of a cold rigid touch traced across the back of her neck. She turns toward the window, noticing the opening that was allowing her security to escape.

She stands at the window, contemplating her next movement……under the harsh weight of judgment; she remains peacefully still for a moment.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

100 Word Challenge - Vague Title: "You are My Masterpiece!"

I have artwork on my wall. To most, it only resembles a child’s scribble….unrecognizable to the human eye. At best, it could be a vague perception of an object….you now, those objects that appear in the clouds. I however, see a very clear masterpiece on my wall….
I see your golden blond hair...
I see your sparkling blue eyes...
I see your soothing smile…
I see your small hand fit perfectly into mine…
My red sharpie masterpiece is not for sale, and shall remain on my bedroom wall forever….never replaced with new paint. Like YOU, it could never be replaced….

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

This weeks entry to "100 Word Challenge".....Prompt Word: HANDSOME

If I close my eye, I can see him…..his groomed medium stature. The suit of choice for him today would be a handsome camel skin blazer, freshly pressed slacks, wingtips that would make newly polished brass look dull, and a perfectly knotted tie. His hair showed no signs of disorder, only an aroma of old spice and tiger stripe. His composure was that of a nobleman, his voice was that of a scholar. Most people refer to him as “Cap”, but I always called him “Papa”. The best part was I was the only one that could call him that….

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Ditching my Demons

100 Word Challenge. Prompt word: DITCH

In the waking hours of desperation, you beckon me.
Why, when I am the most vulnerable, do you insist on torturing me with your presence?
If only I knew how to escape you fiery filled eyes…eyes that would evaporate the faith of the most devout followers.
If I could only repel your heated breathe….breath so pungent that it would melt the fairest skin of the most innocent.
You hover above me, imprisoning my body and spirit from any chance of freedom.
I would cry out if only my voice could overcome your demonic existence….to ditch your empowerment till tomorrow’s eve.

Friday, September 24, 2010

My Dear Son

This week's 100 word challenge.
The prompt: greater

My body is exhausted.
My mind is nonsensical.
My heart is disintegrated.
My spirit is bridled.
I am under persecution.

Your arms are long.
Your mind is mercurial.
Your heart is immense.
Your spirit is unrestricted.
Your endurance is undemonstrated.

Your eyes are young because my eyes are old.
Your mind is untested because my mind is spent.
Your heart in immature because my heart is rectified.
Your mind is newborn because my mind has ripened.
Your spirit is adorned because my spirit is released.
Your greater than I have ever been.
You will be become even greater….

Sunday, September 5, 2010

He's a Momma's Boy

Been a while since my last post, but trust has been a little wild in the last couple of weeks.

I am only 37 years old, but I am wise beyond my years. Mainly due to the fact of everything that my tortured soul has seen and endured in these short years. I have heard the sounds that a dieing body makes more than a few times. I watched my Mom suffer and take her last breath at age 17. I held my sister's hand while her husband turned off her life support, learning that people don't die quickly after flipping the switch, unlike what movies portray...and I had to watch the most dignified, well respected man in my life ever, die without medical aide because that's what HE wanted. If I hadn't loved my Daddy more than life itself, I could have never adhered to his living will.....and those are just the big three. Believe me when I say, that there are many, many more memories that have scarred me with sleepless nights and unadulterated dreams...but none of them are equivalent to the fear I felt on the 21st of August....

  Aww, Saturday morning...sleep in, get up, go see Cayden the grand baby.....that is my ritual. On the 21st, my plans were no different. I always go to my mother-in-law's house to see my grand baby because we only get him 3 hours a week, so that's the best place to meet up so everyone can share their time with him. After KK's visit, I usually head to the jail to visit Cody, then head to Bowling Green to eat and do some necessary shopping. But on this said say, my routine got interuppted.

 Me and K-Bug was on the couch snapping pictures for facebook upload, when all of a sudden a flood of sirens poured by. Moments later, my mother-in-law's cell rang. It was her son wanting to know where everyone was, said that he had heard that there was a bad wreck out hwy 100 and that life flight had been dispatched (everyone in this small town has scanners). Calls like these are not uncommon, we live in a small town and we are tightly knit (the family), and whenever we hear of a wreck or hear sirens, we all start calling each other....I call the mother-in-law, she calls the daughter, daughter calls the get the picture. This time was no different except for the fact that most of us were at her house and accounted for, however her youngest sister-in-law, the baby of the bunch, lived out hwy 100 and we all knew she was getting ready to head into town to see Cayden. My mother-in-law quickly called her to confirm that she was ok, and she was...she hadn't even left her house yet. There was a instant sense of relief among us, then my middle son, Colton, asked my mother-in-law to ride "out that way" to check things out. This was very uncommon. "Why would you do that?!", I asked....."Dunno, just feel ike it", he replied.....and off they went.

Minutes after they left...
Husband: "Where is Christain?"
Me: "I just called him and told him to come home, he spent the night with Rippy"
Husband: "Where does Rippy live?"
Me: "Out hwy 98....I think"
Husband: "Call him"
Me: "I just did, he didn't answer. You know, he won't answer the phone when he is driving; Duh!"

Hubby's phone rang.....
Hubby: "Oh my God...OK OK....I am on my way"

Hubby didn't answer me.....just give me that look, you know what look I am talking about....and he dashes out the door.

Ape shit y'all....I went ape shit. I had the babies, I couldn't leave them home alone. I ran into my father-in-law's bedroom, where he was laying in his bed recuperating from surgery. I was crying so bad, that he couldn't even understand me....all I could get out was, "I gotta go". He finally asked me enough questions to figure out what was going on, and out the door I flew. I could only assume that my husband had already left. I don't know if he had or not, I didn't look. All I saw was a car coming down the road.

My thoughts......"Transportation....I gotta get to the hospital....a car is quicker than running.....I need a car.....Transportation....I got to get to my baby......Oh my God......My baby.......Run in front on the car"

And that's exactly what I did....I ran in front of the car, luckily it stopped. I ran to the passenger door and jerked on the handle. Hopping in the front seat, I yelled at the driver, "Take me to the hospital! My kid has been in a wreck. Go, Go, GO!"

Driver: "What are you doing?"
Driver: "Ok, OK, calm down Mame...I'm going"
Me: *calling anyone that would answer, trying to figure out just how bad it is...praying, crying
Driver: *stops at the square's four way stop and just sits there
Me: "What the fuck are you doing? Go!
Driver: "Mame, you need to calm down, I am not from here, I don't know which way to turn"
Me: "Turn Left......OK OK.......turn right, here.....can you drive faster?"
Driver: "You know...I have been in the penitentiary"
Me: "What? I don't give a fuck, just take me to the fucking hospital dude!"
Driver: "I have been shot in the face too"
Me: "Turn here.......stop the car.......thank you"

I jumped out of the car, only in the drive way of the hospital, and began running towards the ER entrance. I heard tires squealing behind me. I turned around and looked, and the car jacked victim was getting the hell out of dodge. My cell phone rang, it was my husband. He wanted to know where I was. I told him I was standing outside the ER at the Scottsville hospital....he told me to stay there (really? where was I gonna go?)...he was on his way after me, that they were taking Christian to BG....he didn't know how bad it was, that they were leaving with him in an ambulance by the time he got there. So, there I stood....I still didn't know if my baby boy was alive, dead, blind, or burnt. All I wanted was to get to him, I am his Mother...I could take care of him if I could just get to him....

We were in the hubby's truck, driving as fast as the truck would allow us. This is when I learned that the truck has a sensor in it that kills the power at the speed of 98 miles per hour....or something close to that number. I called Colton and he told me that he was going to get Cayden, and take him home. I asked him where his Nanny was, and he told me that she was in the rig with Christian. He said, "Momma, the car is destroyed..I saw him...he's bloody and they (the EMT's) said he had a head injury. I called the mother-in-law....

Me: "Where are you"
MIL: "I'm in the front seat of the ambulance, we are on the interstate, cutting across to fairview"
Me: "Is he OK?"
MIL: "They have been working on him all the way here....I think so.....will you hurry?"
Me: "I am only a few minutes behind y'all, I'll be right there....tell him I love him...I am glad you are in there with him....Love you, see you in a minute.
MIL: Ok, Hurry...but be careful

We get to the ER, I don't think we even parked...we both just jumped out of the truck and started running. Inside the door, there was a lady behind a counter. I told her they had just brought my son in, and I needed in the back so I could see him....

Clerk: "Ok, calm down...your going to need to go to registration window #2 and give them some information."
Me: "Are you kidding me?"
Clerk: "It'll only take a moment Mame."
Me: "Look lady, I don't know if my son is going to live or not, and you want my insurance information? FUCK YOU AND YOUR INFORMATION...Let me through those doors!!
Clerk: "Mame, I don't even have a name for your son yet"
Me: "I know his name and that's all that matters...Let me back there now!!"
Me *called the Mother In law
Me: "Come open the damn door"

And that's just what she did......I finally got to see him. He had blood all over him, his clothes were ripped from his body...laying on a backboard and equipped with a neck brace....still strapped down. His eyes were glassy, tears pouring from them....I tried not to cry, I had to be strong for him.....I asked the Doctor if he was going to be OK....the Doctor told me that there seemed to be no broken bones, only a concussion and some cuts and bruises....said they would have to perform a C.A.T. scan to make sure there was no skull fractures or bleeding, but he should be fine....nothing life threatening.

He walked out of the hospital unassisted only a few short hours after the wreck.  How in the world could someone experience so much joy and so much pain in the same day?

But this is not where the story ends, but that is for another day....

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

2 + 2 = One Dumbass Blonde

I feel really weird because after many, many moons....I am going back to school. Yep, today is my first day....really excited, and really sad. There was no Mom to help me gather my things this morning and no Dad to give me that "you can do it, I am so proud of you" speech. But that's OK, should be used to it by now....Mom died when I was 17 & Daddy died the day the Millennium started. But...I'm not bitter.......

I am going back to school to gain certificate in a profession that I already occupy. A Lean certificate....never mind that I am already a Lean Coordinator & Kaizen Facilitator and I have more years of experience than I have fingers, this will bonify me...Bonified! A piece of paper I can wipe my ass on....but I will be bonified!! But....I'm not bitter....

"Mrs. Payne, we are unable to locate your transcripts, so you are going to required to take a college placement test"....yeah, that's what the admissions lady told me. "Cool, I am pretty intelligent, I can rock this", were my thoughts. Uhh, not so it turns out, if my brains were gasoline, I wouldn't have enough gas, to ride a piss ant on a moped, around a BB. I scored in the high 90's in Reading, I was happy. My Writing scores were not so notable, I am surprised I can manage to blog, but they were creditable enough. My Math scores? Yeah, I should have reserved parking out front.... a 44%!!!! Fucking Really? But, I am not bitter.......

So, it is agreed that I could use some more (not higher) education, and believe it or not...I am into the whole "better yourself or self improvement" thang.... I just think that sometimes, life's lessons and past experiences should count for something. Why don't they have a question on the test that reads, "What was the biggest fuck up of your life, and what did you learn from it?". Well hell, if test were like that, I would be a scholar!! Always heard that you learn from your mistakes....if that's the case I should be a Genius, because I have made more mistakes than the entire population of Alaska put together. But, that's a good thing.......

I can truly pat myself on the back right now. Through my years of mistakes and poor judgment, I have learned to recognize when I am veering onto the wrong path. I know what most of my weaknesses are and I have aquired a pretty good sense of discernment when it comes to people's intentions......and the devastation that can occur when combined at the wrong place, at the wrong time. I know you are probably scratching your head right now....but trust me, I most recently proved to myself that I am smart enough to slay some demons that I didn't see coming. Turns out that I am not that stupid after all....

And, I am not Bitter...