Tag Archives: fun

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We’re Just Going To Have To Jump Over Her!!

Last week’s post got me to thinking of other travel “experiences,” so here’s another story that you might find amusing…

A number of years ago, I worked with a national nursing home company. I was a part of the corporate team, and when we traveled, we usually traveled with the Vice President over a particular region of the country. On this particular trip, I was traveling with two Vice Presidents (they were male…which will be important to know later on in the story). We were working at a facility in Chattanooga, TN, and were staying each night at a high-rise hotel in the downtown area. My room was on the 14th floor of the hotel. As is the case many times for me in hotels, I was having a little difficulty sleeping. There happened to be a huge thunderstorm going on, and I had my curtains open, enjoying the natural “light show.” It was actually very beautiful. It was about 1:00 a.m. in the morning, and I was laying on my bed, just enjoying the show.

All of a sudden, a strobe light near the ceiling of my room, starting going off and on, sirens and alarms began to sound, and an automated voice came over the intercom in my room saying, “Proceed to the nearest stairs and exit the building.” The voice kept saying this statement continuously, and seemed to get louder with each proclamation. Now, as a traveler, I have always prided myself in being safe. When I am assigned a hotel room, I always check to see where the nearest stairs are, and note which direction I should go if there were an emergency. In my mind, I have also gone over and over how I would make such an exit. I would get dressed comfortably (and quickly)…I would get my wallet…I would put comfortable shoes on my feet…I would check the door to make certain that it was not hot…and then I would exit to those stairs. I had rehearsed this time and time again in my head. So…the alarm was going off…and I panicked. I tried to call the desk to see if it was a false alarm, and there was no answer. I looked out my window, fourteen stories down to the street, and I saw fire engines pulling up to the hotel, and I heard peoples’ footsteps rapidly going down those stairs, and I saw people racing out of the hotel. I realized that this was real, that there was a fire, and that I. WAS. ON. THE. FOURTEENTH. FLOOR!!!

I used to sleep in a tee-shirt, so in my panic, I did not think to put anything else on…at least the most of me was covered…but I did need shoes…I could not find any “comfortable” shoes, but my high heels were laying there on the floor, so I thought, “well, that will be better than nothing.” I forgot the wallet…I checked my door to make certain that it was not hot (it wasn’t), and I opened it. Just as I opened my door, a man from across the hall opened his door. He was as prepared as I was…He had on a tee-shirt, boxer shorts, a suit coat, black socks and wingtip shoes. I was in my tee-shirt and high heels. We made quite the couple…I looked at him…he looked at me…and I said, “Let’s go!!” We joined arms and headed for the stairs. (And let’s remember that I had never laid eyes on this man ever before…) As we opened the stairwell door, we joined hundreds of people going down the stairs, trying to get out of the building before we were all burnt to a crisp! We happened to get behind a lady who was wearing a baby blue, chiffon negligee with matching slippers (with little pom-pom puffs on top of them), AND she had remembered her purse. She looked like a big ole’ ball of cotton candy floating down those stairs. We were so close behind her that her chiffon kept getting caught in our faces, and we kept having to bat it away. The other problem was that she was going too slow!! As we rounded another turn in the stairwell, I happened to look at the number on the door that we were passing. I looked at Mr. Boxer Shorts, and said, “We’re ONLY on the 7th floor!” He said, “I know! What should we do?” I looked at him with great determination, and said, “We’re just going to have to jump over her!!” She must have heard what I said, because, at that very moment, she got faster!!

We finally made it down to the bottom floor, and was about to exit, when I realized that it was pouring down raining outside, and all I had on was that little tee-shirt. The fear of actually burning motivated me to move on out into the rain no matter what!! I should not have worried, because everyone standing out in the rain was in the same situation as me…either little clothing at all, or all in disarray. We were just lucky to get out alive! I hugged Mr. Boxer Shorts, thanked him for accompanying me, and I went to find my two Vice Presidents. I was so glad to see them, and find that they made it out safely too, that I hardly minded that they continued to try and “read” my tee-shirt…We looked up, and saw hundreds of people up in their rooms looking down at us. Now, I have to ask you, what kind of person would be up on the higher floors of a hotel, look out their window, and see fire trucks, people in various stages of dress (and undress)…all standing out in the rain…and not move heaven and earth to get out of that hotel??? I found out later that when a fire is “discovered” in a hotel, the alarms only sound on the floor of discovery, the floor above, and the floor below. So, those people did not know why we were all outside!

They were able to contain the fire and we were allowed to return to our rooms for what was left of the night. The next morning I called my secretary and explained to her that we needed to make a change in my travel profile…to NEVER book me in a hotel room higher than the second floor. She said, “Oh, did something happen???”

Throughout our lives, people are placed in our paths. Some can help, support, motivate, love and make your life better. Others can slow you down, make you wait, keep you from attaining the goals that you have established for yourself. Still, there are others that can hurt and destroy you…suck the very life from you, and make you miserable. There is one key factor in this equation, and that would be you. You have the choice to allow those people to harm you, slow you down, help you, or love you…it is all within your power. I am going to either lead, follow, or simply get out of the way, but I do not intend to slow anyone down…or let them slow me down…I am going to love, support, inspire and motivate! Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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So When Do You Leave….?

I LOVE elephants!! Do you know why? Well, the first reason is that my best friend has collected elephants (not the real ones, of course…) all of her life, and I have grown to love them and have learned an awful lot about them as a result. Elephants are such a loving family unit…and “the Aunts” are heavily involved in helping and assisting with the development, growth, and care of all the new babies that are born into their family unit. You see, I REALLY like that part, because I AM an “Aunt” – many times over! In fact, I am a GREAT Aunt (literally and figuratively….)! All of my nieces and nephews have never thought of me as an adult…most of them view me as a “toy” to play with…and I would have it no other way! There is something in my heart that just jumps and explodes when I see the delight in their eyes when they finally land on me. It is truly intoxicating!

Whether you like Hillary Clinton, or you don’t, is NOT important to me; however, I strongly believe one of her philosophies…that it DOES take a village to raise a child. It takes the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, church leaders/Sunday School teachers, school teachers, neighbors, friends, and community – that IS a village, by the way. At least, that’s the way it was when I was growing up. We felt “safe” because “someone” was always watching out for us, and teaching us life lessons. As an Aunt, I have taken the responsibilities of that “job” very seriously. I have tried to “broaden my nieces’ and nephews’ horizons” – to let them know there was more in the world than they saw in their own, small town…to let them know that, especially in people, “different” did not mean “wrong,” but just different…that there was nobody better than who they were, or who they could be…that they could be and do anything they wanted in life if they worked for it…that faith in God was what you believed, trusted, lived and relied upon…and that life should be worth living – doing what you enjoyed. Most importantly, each one knows that there is never anything they could do in life that would affect the tremendous love I have for them. It is truly unconditional! They know they could tell me anything, do anything, and my love would never waver…that I am ALWAYS only a phone call away. So now that you have all of the background, let’s get to this week’s story…

My baby brother and his wife tried for many years to have a child. My sister-in-law (and I use that word so you know who I am talking about, but in our family, she is indeed my sister, period) had a battle with cancer early in their marriage. She had to have heavy doses of radiation and chemotherapy. As a result, she was told that the treatments had left her sterile. So, the journey began to adopt a little one into the family. This journey went on for many, many years…Resulting in heartbreak, after heartbreak! Each new opportunity for adoption failed. All of our hearts were sad. Then one day, they got a message from a personal friend (they were all officers in the Salvation Army at this time). He reported that a church family’s young daughter had become pregnant, out of wedlock, and they were placing the baby up for adoption. There was only one catch…the family wanted each couple, who wanted that precious baby, to write a letter explaining why they wanted a child, and how they would raise the child. Out of all the families submitting letters, my brother and his wife were chosen!! We were thrilled!!! The time came for the young lady to give birth, and she had a little girl, my Elizabeth! We got her when she was two days old, and from that moment, I was mesmerized. I cannot understand people who say that could not love a child as much, who is not of “their blood.” We know NO difference!! She is ours!!! In fact, both my brother and I will forget and say, well…you got your allergies from us…her nose is an exact replica of my brother’s…but it would NOT make any difference if it weren’t . (And, by the way, it ended up that the Drs. were wrong…a little boy was born a few years after Elizabeth arrived…., and yes, we love him to death also…even though he is not adopted…He will also have a post about him later on…)

She and I have had a special relationship from day one. When she was really little, she could not say my name, so I became “Aunt Tat.” There was no greater pleasure for me than when she would crawl up in my lap, place those little chubby arms around my neck, and say, “I wuv you, Aunt Tat!” On this particular day, I was down visiting with my folks, and we were all sitting out in the sunroom. Of course, Elizabeth was sitting in my lap, and I was loving every minute of it. As we were sitting there, she snuggled in a little closer to me, and very quietly said, “I know where you are taking me this summer.” Surprised, I said, “Well, tell me, where am I taking you?” She looked at me with those beautiful, blue eyes, smiling from ear to ear, and said, “Disneyworld!” I quickly looked over her head to my Mother, who was shaking with laughter, and she mouthed, “When are you leaving?” I chuckled, and said, “As soon as I can clear my schedule…” And yes, we did go to Disneyworld (which will be a later blog article) that summer, and had a wonderful time…just us girls…She has now become a Mom herself, and has given me two more opportunities to be an aunt. Her birthday is this coming week, and I could not be prouder of her, or love her any more than I do today.

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Those of you who ARE those special Aunts…remember the impact that you can have on a child’s life…and will continue to have as they grow. Help those mothers who are finding it a little difficult to do it all by themselves. Be an elephant!!! That’s what I will be doing…Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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It Will Never Be The Same Again…

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As many of you know, my Mother passed away in February – that means that this weekend holds a holiday that I have never experienced without my Mother. So, here’s the story for this week…

Two weeks ago I had to go grocery shopping. We were just about to head to the checkout, when I remembered that I needed just one more item. I rushed back to the area where I thought the item could be found, and turned down an aisle to get there a little faster. As soon as I started walking a few feet into the aisle, I realized that I had made a mistake. I had unknowingly turned down the greeting card aisle, and plastered everywhere were Mother’s Day cards. In an instant my eyes were filling with tears as I realized that this year I would not be buying a Mother’s Day card, nor would I be making the trip to spend the weekend with her in celebration. I left the aisle as quickly as I possibly could, and tried not to think about what I had just seen, and what it meant for me.

I will be honest…I have struggled with this loss, just as I struggled with her disease process. I have the skills, expertise and ability to train healthcare professionals in these areas, but I have been rather inept in helping myself. I have a very dear friend, who has watched this struggle of mine. She finally asked me, “Cat, just what are you thinking and feeling? What are you hoping for? What are you looking for?” And I tried to verbalize…I said, “I don’t feel Mother’s presence. In my mind, I just assumed, because we were so close, that when she died…I would feel her presence ‘with me’ constantly. That has not happened, and I don’t know what to do.” As soon as I expressed those thoughts, she said, “Cat, she is with you every day…she is in your heart…she is in your mind…she is living inside you.” And now comes the best part…she said, “All you have to do to ‘feel her’ is continue being the person that she wanted you to be.” And just like that, I felt a peace that I had not felt since Mama’s death. You see, I realized that this is something I could do! I can be the person she raised and was proud of…I can emulate the character, integrity and Christ-like traits that she taught by living example. You see, I simply do NOT know how else to be, but who I am…who she made…and who she loved.  I AM my Mother’s child!

For those of you whose mothers are still living…MAKE the time and effort to visit with them, make memories with them, enjoy them, just “be” with them…for one day, they absolutely will be gone from your life…and it will never be the same again. For those of you whose mothers are no longer living, do what I am doing…let’s live the lives that our Mamas taught us to live…strong in faith, compassion, loyalty and love…and ALWAYS doing for others. BE the person that “Mama” would have you be. Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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What Do You Mean….You “Can’t Find It”???

Well, it’s a new month…May! That means I have been writing this blog for four months already. Hard to believe! I started this blog in hopes that it would help me deal with the overwhelming sadness I felt over my Mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s and resulting death. Writing the weekly stories has helped me more than I can say, and I hope that all my visitors and followers have received some sense of solace, comfort, or inspiration, as well as a laugh or two…Since May is pretty much known as the “graduation” month, this week’s story will have to address that particular topic. So, we begin…

I graduated from high school in 1970. Now before you get out your calculator to figure out my age, I need to let you know that I was a child prodigy and five years old at the time…It was a time of social unrest and “upheaval” in our little town (as the media played it up to be). 1970 was the first year of mandated integration, and both the “white” and “black” high schools had been merged that year. The graduating class of 1970 was so large that it was moved from the usual venue of our high school auditorium to that of the football stadium. (Just as an aside, I would like to comment that on the first day of school that year, they had called in the National Guard, Highway Patrol Troopers, and various other “police” organizations, to make certain that we students would be “orderly” on that historic event – the “joining,” if you will, of two diverse high schools. I think we surprised the nation in that there were NO horrible events like some other cities and states, not in the South, such as riots and bus burnings. We simply went to school that day, and each day thereafter. I just wanted that down for the record….)

While growing up, my parents never put any pressure on me to be an “A” student. They had instilled such a desire in me for success, that I applied more pressure on myself than they ever did. As luck would have it, I had a “natural” ability to learn, so studying was never too difficult for me. Bringing home a “B” was very rare, and when that did happen, I was more upset than my folks.

Upon graduation, if a student had attained a certain grade point average for the entire four years of high school, they were given a designation of graduating “With Distinction.” The student did not know if they had attained that accomplishment until the night of graduation, when their name was called to receive the diploma. Although my Mother had NEVER said a word about this, I knew, deep in my heart, that she wanted to hear my name, graduating “With Distinction.” I was so nervous that night! We had practiced earlier in the day at the football stadium. We would approach the stage, row by row, and as they called our name, we would walk across, place one hand over the other to shake the Board of Education President’s hand, while receiving our diploma with the other hand…pause…look at the camera for the official photograph, and walk off the stage.

I was almost hyperventilating as I stepped closer and closer to the stage. I was praying the whole time, “Please, Dear God, I don’t think I have really asked for a lot in my life, but could you please let me graduate “with distinction?” I made it up the stairs, knowing that my name would be next. And then I heard…”Catherine Rebecca Selman, With Distinction!” I almost exploded with joy, so proud that this was something I had given to my parents. I hastily walked across the stage, where the Board of Education President stood. I shook his hand, and reached for my diploma…therein was the problem. They could NOT find my diploma! I stood there for the longest time with my hand out, waiting patiently for anyone to put that coveted document in my hand. I finally put my hand down by my side, kept the biggest smile on my face, and under my breath asked, “Do you want me to just walk on to the other side until you find it?” By this time, ALL of the officials of the Board of Education were frantically searching for my diploma. The President said, “No, just wait right here. We WILL find it!” The stadium was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop. You could just feel the pity pouring out from everyone in the audience. I’m standing there and realize that at any moment, I am about to burst into maniacal laughter, thinking, “if this just doesn’t take the cake…here I have worked so hard to graduate with distinction, and they cannot even find me a diploma!” The absurdity of the situation was just about to get the best of me, and I could no longer abide the audiences’ pity and concern. So realizing that I was about to “lose it,” I turned to my class, lifted my hands in a questioning manner, and shrugged my shoulders…as if to say, “what’s a girl to do?” When I did that, the entire audience burst into the laughter that was bubbling up inside me. We all had a good laugh!

As we were laughing, and still watching the Board feverishly search for my diploma, the young lady who had received her diploma before me, came back over and gave them “her” diploma…which turned out to actually be mine. They had given her my diploma by mistake. She was so upset and crying…and I was thinking, “why are you crying?…at least you GOT a diploma…it was mine, but at least you got one…” They finally awarded me the “lost” diploma, I shook hands again, smiled for the photographer, and got a standing ovation…Later, so many people told me that “if it had to happen to anyone, we’re glad it was you!” I had no idea how many times I would hear that, and similar statements, throughout the rest of my life. 

I actually teach individuals how to develop “humor skills.” The first skill is the “ability to see the absurdity of your situation.” My philosophy is that there is not much that you can’t recover from if you possess the appropriate life skills…and humor is definitely one of those skills. So my advice to all graduates this month, is to see the humor in life, the absurdity of your situations, and know that you can, and will persevere and succeed. The choices are all up to you…you can control the direction of your life. I am no longer that “child prodigy,” but I continue to practice those life skills that have served me so well. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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It’s Dangerous in There!!!

When my little niece (Elizabeth, who has now become a lovely lady with children of her own) was learning how to use the potty, it was a nightmare for her. She would get so upset when “the time” would come, and she did NOT want to go to the bathroom. My brother finally asked her why she got so upset when she needed to go potty. She looked up at him, with those big, beautiful, blue eyes, and said, “Dad, it’s DANGEROUS in there!” We all got a good laugh at that, and eventually, she got the hang of it and overcame her fear of the bathroom. So here is this week’s story…

I was on a business trip with a friend and we had quite a layover in one of the major airports. Not wanting to “just sit,” we had walked over the entire length of the airport two or three times (several miles it seemed…); had eaten as much food as we could possibly hold; and had “window-shopped” as much as we could. (Neither one of us are much on shopping to begin with….) It got a little closer to the time for us to board the plane, and I thought that maybe I should visit the restroom one more time before getting on the next flight. I asked my friend if she would mind watching my stuff, and off to the restroom I went.

Now, airport bathrooms have changed over the years, and the “improvements” that have been made are always a “challenge,” depending on which airport you are in. The first improvement involved providing different seat heights for the toilets….some sit tall, some are short, some are in-between. There’s nothing more comforting than to rush into a cubicle, thinking the seat is at a certain height, and realize (when you hit the seat a little harder than anticipated) that you picked a cubicle with a “short” toilet. Then came the plastic rotating seat covers…did you rotate the plastic before you sat down…after you sat down…where was the button to initiate said rotation…and HOW would I know if they were just not recycling the same piece of plastic over and over to save money…I came up with a solution for that problem: mark an “x” on the plastic seat, press the button to rotate the seat cover, and look to see if your “x” came around again. (Now before you think that I have lost my mind and have a germ phobia, let’s look at this rationally…have you SEEN the people who fly on planes nowadays???? I need not say more…) Then came the paper seat covers. Great idea, I thought! So, I got the seat cover in place, turned around, unzipped my pants, and just as I was about to make contact with the seat….SWOOOOSH!! The toilet had automatically flushed itself and I no longer had a paper armor against the germs of society (the flush took my paper seat cover with it…). I stood up and tried to figure out how to “outwit” the toilet…So, this is what I did: I unzipped my pants, assumed the position and got ready to make contact. At the last minute, I slipped the toilet seat cover into place, and hurriedly sat down before the toilet flushed. SUCCESS!!!

Now that I had conquered the challenges within the cubicle, I was ready to face the remaining few…the automatic soap dispenser, the automatic water dispenser, and the automatic hand-drying options…Now, you need to know up front that there is something really goofy with my body (no snide remarks from those who know me really well…). Apparently, I do not have within my chromosomes the exact chemistry that will respond to, or activate, any type of “automatic” dispenser. It is indeed an effort to get anything to work for me, and I usually end up having to make numerous attempts at different sinks. I went to the first soap dispenser….no matter what I did, what motion I performed with my hands….no  soap. So I went to the next sink…same thing…a lot of motion and activity on my part, but still no soap. (Please understand that I have to complete this same exercise in EVERY airport bathroom that I visit…) I moved on to the next sink with even MORE enthusiastic motion and play of my hands…STILL no soap. I moved to the final sink. That was when disaster struck…the soap dispenser not only worked, but it was a super sonic dispenser! The flow of soap squirted out, shot completely OVER the sink, and landed directly on the front of my pants! I looked down and all I saw was a great big wad of white soap beginning to ooze slowly down the front of my pants. Of course, I panicked and thought, “get some paper towels, and DO IT NOW!” (I did mention that the paper towel dispenser was “automatic” also; didn’t I?) I waved my hands across the sensor. It did nothing! I tried two hands, wildly motioning in the senseless attempt to just activate it. STILL…nothing!!! I went to another dispenser…nothing. I was wild by this time because the soap had spread on my pants down to the crotch area. I began dancing and moving my body all different ways in front of the sensor to JUST GET SOME PAPER TOWELS!! By this time, I had drawn a crowd, who could not figure out if I was having a seizure of some sort, or that I was just a really weird air traveler. In a way of explanation to my “audience,” I was uttering under my breath as I was dancing…”soap”…”flew out of dispenser”…”on my pants”…”got to get it off”…”doesn’t work for me.” I finally realized that I was not ever going to get a paper towel, so I ran back into a cubicle to get some toilet paper. Wiping rapidly, I attempted to remove the gummy soap from my pants. The toilet tissue, being dry, began rolling into little balls and STICKING to the soap that was STICKING to my pants. It was time to wet the paper towel and see if that would help.  Guess what? The water dispenser was “automatic” also….On the fourth attempt, at the fourth sink, the water began to flow. Others began to help me. THEY were able to get some paper towels, and we made a valiant effort to remove all of the particles that had become a permanent part of my pants. Everyone, including me, eventually accepted defeat and gave up! As I was leaving, I noticed a woman having a little difficulty of her own in getting the paper towel dispenser to work. I leaned over and confidentially whispered, “you have to dance!”

I finally came out of the bathroom and headed in the direction of my friend. She took one good look at me, and those soap-gummed pants, and asked “What happened to you???” I just looked at her and said, “The bathroom has become a very dangerous place….”

There are people in our lives who have fears, whether actual or perceived. At times, we may dismiss those fears as being “silly” or unfounded simply because they are not our fears. As a result, we are not compassionate, patient, or understanding. I am going to be more understanding and tolerant of those who express concern or fear over events, tasks or actions that they face. I am going to provide the necessary support to assist them in facing their fear, and let them know that they are not alone…that I am there with them. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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Are You a Member of the Good Words Club???

I have been so blessed in my life! I have an abundance of family and friends who love me completely and fully – warts and all…Throughout the years, my best friend’s family members have become my family also…”friend-in-laws,” if you will…I was around when her little sister was born, and got to be with this little one, watching her as she grew up to be a wonderful young lady…a college student…a wife…and finally, a mother! Of all the words that I could use to describe her, the one most “fitting” would be “mother.” Some people are not meant to become a parent, but oh my, she was simply designed for, and made to fill, this role.

When the long-awaited time came, she gave birth to a little girl, Adison. The new parents had very clear thoughts on “do’s and don’ts” for this precious child…One of the “don’ts” dealt with “appropriate” language that should be used when the toddler was in “hearing” distance. So, that’s the background…we will now go to the story…

First, you need to know that I do not use curse words…EVER! I feel that there are so many better ways to express one’s feelings without the usage of “those” words. You also need to know that my friend’s grandmother was almost a saint, and if you “slipped up” occasionally, and happened to use a “curse word,” she would very sweetly ask, “Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club?” And of course, at that very moment, you do wish that you had been a member of the Good Words Club….

When Adison was three, her parents bought a brand new house. We were so excited for them, and for days had helped them move and get settled in. Since I am a pretty good “handy” person, I was given the job installing all of the window blinds. We had measured each window and Home Depot had cut the blinds to our exact specifications. As I was installing the blinds, “little one” was right with me, wanting to do whatever I was doing. I had to provide her with a little screw driver, show her how to use it, and she would hold the rule as I measured each window to match it with the correct set of blinds.

We got to a window, and no matter what I did, the blinds just would not fit. I kept going back and forth from one room to another, one window to another, trying to figure out if I had used the wrong blind on one of the windows. In doing this, my little helper became distracted and I ended up in a room by myself. By this time, I was tired and aggravated, in that I could NOT figure out why the blind would not fit. FINALLY, I thought to myself, why not remeasure the blinds and determine if they are the right size? As I did this, I was standing high on a step-ladder. In a moment of absolute clarity, I realized that the blinds had been cut wrong!! All this time I had been trying to “fit” the blinds to the window, and had just realized that they would never fit ANY window.  As the full realization hit me, I said, “Dadgumit!!” As soon as I said that word, I heard this tiny, soft voice repeat, “Dadgumit!!” Little one had eased up behind me and was standing on the first rung of the step-ladder…

My heart started beating faster, and I became more anxious, thinking, “OH NO!!! You have just taught her a curse word!!! That is expressly forbidden!!” I jumped off the ladder, grabbed her up in my arms, and ran into the living room to confess my sin to the parents. Fortunately, for me, they did not think that I had “damaged” the child too badly, and there was a lot of discussion as to whether what I said was even a curse word! But here is the bottom line…those little ones watch everything you say, everything you do, and will usually mimic it and make it a part of their own lives. What are you saying in front of impressionable children? Are you teaching them “good words” and “good acts?” Don’t you want to be a member of the Good Words Club? Just for this week…

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The Day My Aunt Froze Her Monkey…

OK, so I have your attention with my article title…My little brother is already going to be crying “foul,” because he thinks he came up with it, and keeps telling everyone he is going to write a book, and this will be the title of said book. HOWEVER, he and I definitely share the same humor genes (and ability to get ourselves into all KINDS of awkward situations…), so I am saying we both came up with this title. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it…(If he ever does write said book, I will go ahead and give him permission now to use the title.) So we begin…the story I am about to tell you apparently has several “versions.” I am really not sure which version is totally “chronologically” accurate, but the “facts” remain the same in all versions…

One of the benefits of belonging to a large family is that you end up with an awful lot of cousins. And oh, my, did we ever enjoy growing up together! Every childhood memory of import includes either one, or many, cousins. We shared everything as children…dreams, fantasies, hopes, hurts, losses, laughter, tears, apologies…and always, always, so much love.

My father and uncle worked many years together as speciality carpenters and builders. One day my father came home from work and said that my uncle had been given a little spider monkey by someone for whom they were working. All of us kids were so excited about this new turn of events…a spider monkey!!! We had only ever seen a monkey at the zoo, and now, our cousins actually had one for a pet. Our excitement and enthusiasm to see the little fellow could not be contained! It was all we could do to sleep that night.

The next morning we all got up begging Mama to let us ride over to our Aunt’s house to see the new monkey. OF COURSE, we were allowed to get on our bikes and ride over to see the new “addition” to our family. Oh, he was the cutest little thing you have ever seen! Our cousins named him Oscar. My uncle built the neatest, largest cage for him, and in the coming days we would love on, and play with, Oscar.

One morning, our cousins called, crying and crying, saying that Oscar was dead…that he had frozen in the night. (An unexpected cold snap had come through, and Oscar indeed had frozen during the night.) My Aunt got poor Oscar out of the cage, brought him into the house, and lovingly laid him on the counter in the kitchen. All of us children were properly subdued and tearful. We paid our respects and then went back to our respective homes. It was a very sad occasion for everyone.

In doing daily household chores, my aunt actually forgot about Oscar…that is, until she saw him hopping all over the house. Yes, my friends, Oscar had unfrozen, and had come back to life!!! (This is actually true! I saw him afterwards with my own eyes!) They like to have never caught poor Oscar that day. Once they did, they made certain that he was kept warm during the cold nights, and he lived a very long life thereafter. The cousins were thrilled beyond measure!

So many times in our own lives we give up on situations and people too easily. We discount them so readily…and just maybe they still have a lot to give and do in this life…and be in ours. I am going to concentrate on not giving up on people…I will keep believing that they still have a lot of “life” in them and deserve my support and loyalty. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…

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Come on Down!!!

Well…I’m sure most of you have worked really hard this week trying to remove and forget the searing image of my “being naked” from last week’s post…but I bet you laughed! In fact, I have heard from quite a few of you saying that you were “on the floor” and laughing out loud. How wonderful is that???

Monday will be my sisters’ birthday. That’s right, I said “sisters’ birthday.” There are two, and they share the same birthday because they are twins. Gay is ten minutes older than Beth. They are both older than me, but we won’t say too much about that…

There are not too many people, other than your parents, that you can say that you’ve known ALL of your life. I can say that about my sisters. They have “been there,” present in my life, from the moment that I took my first breath.

We were raised on a little farm in Sandy Hook, MS. The farm was named “Double Trouble,” and we had all kinds of farm animals, including a very large bull. We were told so many times, “stay away from the bull,” “don’t agitate the bull,” “leave the bull alone.” So you already know that we could NOT possibly leave that bull alone. We would have our little red jeans on, go out in the barn, dance and giggle until the bull was all worked up and ready to charge. We knew right down to the second when he would do this. At the very last moment, we would scream, run over to the ladder that went to the loft, climb up, and then look down at the bull…We would then break into hysterical laughter! When I look back at that now, I wonder, “what would have happened if just one of us had slipped….” It is a wonder that we are all still alive, but we had a wonderful childhood!!

I have so many good memories of these sisters…and us together…Gay dancing ALL the time. If there was music…she was moving! Beth (who did NOT ever take medicine) took a antihistamine for a cold. It made her so “loopy” that she took out the back corner of the house with her boyfriend’s car when she came home from work. (He later became her husband, so I guess he forgave her for the car being messed up…) While playing hide and seek one day, I remember distinctly how we discovered all of our “Santa” gifts in the quilt box…how crushed we were to learn that there was no Santa…and how we made a pact to hide the fact that we knew on Christmas morning.

As I grew up, they were the “go to” people for all of my questions. They taught me how to shave my legs…how to shampoo and “fix” my hair…what to do when “the curse” arrived…I could ask them anything.

My sisters grew up to be smart, sassy, “steel magnolias.” I am so proud of them! Gay moved back home to live with my parents a number of years ago, and assisted them in the daily operations of their personal care home for the mentally challenged. After her children were grown, Beth went back to college and received her degree. As my Mother’s illness (Alzheimer’s Disease) progressed, Beth became the Administrator of the personal care home, and she and Gay worked together to make certain that Mama and Daddy continued to have an income. Their religious faith and strength just continues to grow. They are prayer WARRIORS!!!

So you are probably wondering by now, where is all this headed? Where’s the story? Here we go…

During the summer, Mama and Daddy would take us to a little creek, and let us swim and play with other kids and families doing the same thing. It was such a sweet, simple, and uncomplicated time. The bridge that went over the creek would certainly not pass any of today’s criteria for being safe. It did not have any rails on either side, and pretty much looked like an open train trestle. The distance from the bridge, down to the water, was probably about 30 feet, give or take a little.

On this particular day, we arrived at the creek, and Daddy parked the car to the side of the road. We could not wait to get down to the water and play. As we were walking over the bridge, one of Gay’s friends hollered up to her and said, “Come on down!!” Gay did not hesitate…she jumped straight from the bridge down to the water. Now this would not have been a big deal, except for these two very important facts….1. It was about a 30 foot drop for her, and…2. She did NOT know how to swim! My father and mother were scrambling down the banks to get to her as quickly as they could. As soon as her head popped out of the water, gasping for air, my daddy had her in his arms. She was not hurt in any way…she simply wanted to get to her friends, and did not even think about the possible consequences of that jump.

Everyday I hear people say,”One day, I would like to….” (finish the sentence any way you like…), or “I would be too afraid to do…(finish the sentence any way you like…). What would you do if you were not afraid to try? What would you change in your life? What would you do differently? This week I am going to do things that are outside of my “comfort zone.” I am going to be daring, adventurous, and try something that I’ve never done before. I am going to “jump off the bridge…” Won’t you join me? Just for this week….

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You’re not a part of our group…

For over 30 years, my parents operated a personal care home for older adults who were mentally challenged. They kept adding room after room, until the house that all of us children grew up in could accommodate approximately 12 additional people. My parents loved each person and felt they were a part of our family. In fact, all of the residents called my father “Daddy,” and my mother, “Mama Jo.”

When this “extended” family was younger, we would take them on vacation each summer. They loved country music, and more times than not, we ended up vacationing in Nashville, TN…which leads me to my story for this week…
On this particular trip, we were going to spend all of one day at the Opryland Amusement Park, and then finish the day by going to The Grand Ole Opry. If you have never worked with an older adult who is mentally challenged, you need to understand that it is difficult for them to “adapt” to a new environment. On outings, it is so easy for one of them (or several) to get confused and wander away from the group. So, all day long we had been “counting,” making certain that everyone in our group stayed with us…and that we ended up with the correct number of people each time.
 
We were in the amusement park, going from musical show to musical show, when suddenly the bottom fell out of the sky, and it was pouring down rain. It was just a summer shower – no thunder or lightning, so I gave everyone a choice: we could buy rain slickers and continue to go to all the musical shows, or we could leave the park and go explore the Opryland Hotel. Now, they did not know what a “slicker” was, but they wanted to stay in the park, so that was their choice. I went to a nearby store and purchased said slickers. (Just to give you a complete picture, and in my defense…the slickers were either orange or blue, and once you put them on, all you could see was a face and legs…)
 
I began removing the slickers from their packaging, and put one on each person in our group. As I did so, I would place my hands on their shoulders, and line them up together…always counting, making certain that we still had everyone with us. I stopped suddenly when I realized I had my hands on the shoulders of a man that I did not recognize. (I had lined both him and his wife up with our group…) I didn’t even have sense enough to remove my hands from his shoulders. I looked him straight in the eyes and said, “You’re not a part of our group.” He said, “We know it.” I then said, “Well, why did you let me line you up with our group?” He gave me the cutest little grin, winked, and said, “Ma’am, we thought it was best to do EXACTLY what you said…”
 
So…this week I am going to recognize and understand that I don’t have all the answers…that I don’t need to “direct” anyone’s actions. I don’t HAVE to take care of everyone else. I am going to fully appreciate that others can contribute and be responsible for their actions. Won’t you join me? Just for this week…