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Perks, library decent light
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Monthly subscription low-price
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Perks, library decent light
Complaint swipe loss page bookmark
Alcoholism – a dependence syndrome touched my life from birth until recent times.
My father was a full-blown alcoholic (a man I loved in spite of his addiction). His
days started with his house painting job and ended when the corner bar closed.
For certain this had a multitude of negative effects on my life, from living
arrangements to bullied by classmates for wearing another girl’s hand-me down clothes.
The supposed friend boasted daily about her clothing now being worn by one far
less fortunate, me.
Yes, it’s quite interesting what the mind remembers from years ago.
In my teen years at parties I’d watched my Cape Verdean boyfriend consume booze
until he actually became physically sick. I couldn’t figure out the connection as why
a fairly smart handsome young man would participate in such an activity.
I was one of the few ‘bystanders’ at parties – no way – no thanks – upchucking was
definitely not for me.
Years later I married a man whose family owned two bars. On Friday nights he’d
bartender at one for extra income. He knew better than drink all the freebies
the patrons purchased for him; he was really good at pretend and placed the cash
in a jar.
Time marched on and urban development took the bars and a new adventure
on the scene, a kitchen and lounge. For a few years weekends I waitressed the
kitchen side along with my oldest daughter. I was the nominee due to age factor
venturing over to the lounge whenever a customer requested an alcoholic
Did I ever consume alcohol? Yes, three glasses of mixed sweet beverages
to keep hydrated throughout so many Saturday nights, a sip here ‘n there
and right back out on the dance floor.
My marital home contained a good-sized liquor cabinet; however I’m
thankful I never had the desire to indulge in other than the occasional
glass of wine served with dinner and iced cold beer (disliked taste) at
Perhaps it was my outlook on life ‘don’t want my family to experience
my youth’ since a high percentage follow in their parent(s) footsteps.
This disease as it’s referred has touched many members of my former
family and sad to learn details of each one’s battle and how their life
crumbled as refusal help leaves little loved ones can do for them.
A little twist here – a man from my hometown I met on a dating site.
The first evening we dined out I noticed his glassy eyes only thought
little of them since it was winter and quite cold outdoors. With his
dinner he ordered a beer then another. I dated him on and off for
a period of three years (platonic dates since via his own words I
was a nice woman and he a player).
He suffered from OCD and issues with anxiety thus kept his dates
fairly local. Eventually he told me his story over a three-hour Chinese
meal. He drank due to the loss of his mother at a young age. I
encouraged him to seek help; however my attempts were in vain
One day I plain tired of his games, we parted ways and no
longer communicate via phone nor e-mail messages.
There’s a valid reason for my writing this post today. A few
months ago I interacted with someone from the creator app my
family has been working for near four years.
The man’s lip synching evoked emotions within me, a gal who’d
pretty much managed to numb out her feelings on life in general.
We became virtual friends and he shared parts of his life, his
treatment and the mechanisms of day-to-day life and the
I researched a bit and tried my best to let him know how
valuable life is and share with him how at times we all suffer
from degrees of depression.
Then without warning he chose to shut me out – OUCH. My
beautiful inspirational quotes were delivered, perhaps he did
read them only the messenger app’s gray check with a white
tick alerted me to the fact I was being ignored.
This was the end of another journey for me and like before
in the end it was I who’d experience anguish at the loss of a friend.
I’ve vowed never to repeat this pattern again unless the person
with the problem is an actual ‘immediate’ family member.
I’d been warned, I didn’t listen and even at this late stage in
life the wrath of rejection following good deeds is quite hurtful.
Sitting before computer feeling numb
Decorated Police Sergeant crossed over
Age 52 battle with Covid-19 succumb
Those left behind now broken-hearted
Grief journey begins mourning departed
A firm believer in the Lord questions
Online she watches funeral procession
For those who actually live with someone
Give thanks no idea feeling nights lonesome
Please don’t complain about caddy stuff
Result older woman possibility high throw up
Those who have lost loved ones understand me
Fact two children reside in Heaven unknowns quickly flee
Lately I wonder why God chose a keep me here plan
Renewed zest for living follow major operation stolen
Prepared emotionally,, spiritually obvious not chosen time
Aftermath prisoner intrusive thoughts spite ne’er commit crime
Down-trodden broken-hearted alone this cruel world daily face
Ask Lord reveal reason why actual timing deceit surface
Anger, bitterness ‘n resentment overwhelmed fight depression
Inner struggle desire overcome worse should go route confession
No idea if occasional writing reading between lines posts still therapeutic
Guess best keep quiet refrain reveal truth late stage in life serves no purpose
To divulge dirty secrets cause much personal familial strife and critique
My cross to bear non-wish others burden thanks to real life reveal composer
I find it absolutely amazing how one’s mind wanders throughout the day.
Take for instance this morning my desire to participate in a prompt challenge
became sidetracked, dissuaded when finally I found the correct pingback only
site stated ‘not secure’.
That worded notification to me automatically became a ‘red’ flag.
A much worse case scenario would be my anti-virus software showing a
large red-bordered circle telling me ‘not safe’ which translates to quickly
Since I awoke to freezing temperatures and found myself with ample time
before an appointment I chose to write – offer up a blog contribution today.
All was not lost as my mind wandered to a totally different direction.
Question ahead faced: “What are the qualities of a good writer?”
Time to research a bit on the web.
In essence I was quite pleased by the one and only article I read, absorbing
the contents while taking notes and hanging onto every word.
The writer broke it down into ‘six’ categories.
Attention to detail was the first quality addressed and ‘yes’ I passed as
I’m constantly observing and taking notes (mental and hand-written).
Discipline was next on the list with reference to frustration in regard
to rewrites, edits and improvements.
Although setting a time schedule for writing was not inclusive it’s a
well-known fact – one I need to address.
Clarity, strong vocabulary and open to changes are all areas of
writing I’m both familiar with and practiced since the start of my
blogging journey a little over five years ago.
The last category on the list was ‘passion for reading’ and to be
honest with myself I believe I need to prioritize more as we learn
so much from reading another’s works.
I’m extremely thankful my mind directed me elsewhere and now
it’s time to proofread before I publish today’s post while arguing
with the newest writing foe ‘the block editor’.
Earlier this week I wrote a post – topic Mother’s loss of a child.
The next morning a medical news article stared me in the face – topic blood types.
Yes of course I became anxious to learn which blood type found thru studies performed
‘may‘ lower risk of severity or worse in the current health crisis.
The answer was RH negative, the alien DNA which only 15% of the population
worldwide (of which I’m one) possess = a minority in classes of blood factors.
Countless times the word ‘may’ appeared throughout this article which I did
read in its entirety.
Percentage of immunity??
Comforting words – I think not.
Wonderful I’d been reminded of another loss – a son taken from me before birth
year 1969 due to this blood factor.
I wondered how much more of these horrendous memories triggered by words
written I shall have to endure in this lifetime.
The reality is 100% cruel punishment as I recalled the before, during and aftermath
of giving birth to a stillborn son who’d passed two weeks prior to delivery.
My shoulders once strong from weightlifting are slowing weakening – a combo of
lack of anaerobic exercise and emotional stress.
I tell myself ‘never give up’ – I read all those nice affirmations and inspirational quotes.
Reality – going it alone in Golden years ‘sucks’.
The past two days I’ve had no choice other than tend to errands – need of nourishment
Yesterday afternoon I finished reading the second psychological thriller novel by the
Today I took a long nap.
Now what on earth does all the above relate to?
Today while driving from one location to another, the country music station announcer
stated it was ‘National Grammar Day’.
I checked online and ‘yes’ March 4th is the designated day for grammar.
Uumm what about the word ‘may’ that appeared countless times in that article.
Turns out it’s a modal verb that’s used in conjunction with a main verb to
express possibility thereof.
Overwhelmed at this time, I ‘may’ decide to change from my former goal
and write about romantic fantasy.
After all the mind can wander to unknown places and dabbling in fiction
might be fun.
This flower was one of several I chose to plant at my daughter’s
gravesite 25 years ago.
To me it symbolized a connection that lasts thru time, true and
undying love for a daughter whose life was taken way too soon.
Time passed; however, the ache of losing her still remains.
A parent’s nightmare!!
Germans coined the name of this flower and there’s a few myths
floating the hemisphere addressing its floral beauty.
One lovers’ myth, although quite sad, warmed my heart.
It read of two lovers walking the Danube River, spotting the bright
blue blossoms, the man’s desire to fetch some of these delicate
petite blue flowers with petals resembling the shape of a mouse’s ear
(cute tidbit of info) for the lady when suddenly swept up by the river.
As he was floating away at a distance he spoke the words to her
to ‘not forget him’.
If someone asked me why I was writing this post the honest answer
would be, “I have no idea“.
Today isn’t one of those special days, the more painful ones
experienced by a Mother who has lost a child.
Thinking to myself perhaps the answer lies in an event that transpired
This morn’s social media journey was different as I chose to bypass
articles on my homepage’s slideshow.
Rather I headed over here to WordPress and read some truly
inspirational posts – a great start to a sunny, blustery day.
Before I shut down I accessed Facebook to tend to the garden I created
11 years and 5 months ago in memory of my daughter known to some
In recent weeks the Fairyland app had been under maintenance.
Today it wasn’t listed on the sidebar and I couldn’t find a way to
Another creation taken from me without warning.
Needless to say although I shut the computer off and figured I’d wait
awhile to check back, my mood changed dramatically.
Four years ago when I started my blog I took the suggestion to connect
it to several branches of social media as this method was said to gain
more followers and better overall exposure.
This scenario didn’t happen – number of faithful followers grew
slowly and truth ‘yes’ I found it quite disappointing.
I wasn’t about to purchase followers as to me that’s a cheater’s way
of getting ahead.
The constant changes, the stored passwords disappearances, plus
weekly laptop and cell phone updates became a source of distress.
I thought about quitting blogging period.
In January to my dismay a challenge I participated in prior years
changed its format. Thoroughly disinterested I chose not to
I wondered if I’d ever return to this hobby and then I learned
of a local gal with two published poetry books experiencing
the same lack of interest in daily writing as I.
Phew! A sign of relief for me.
Reflections on my life’s tenure show a gal who despite some rather
terrible odds chose to continue to forge ahead.
I’ve never been a quitter only too much to learn
and lacking assistance became a bit overwhelming.
Time for a hiatus!
Did this former perfectionist self-sabotage her achievements
when about to reach a higher degree of success or
did she sadly become an emotional victim to the worldwide
predicaments beyond her control.
Those who suffer from depression still wear a smile most days.
I’ll know more once I chit-chat with my primary doctor next
week on a Zoom-type connection.
Now for a little questionnaire:
My score ranks quite low – laughable since folks state how you should
refrain from the word ‘never’.
Country gals (I’m one) don’t share these interests rather am happy
NOT being superficial.
I asked myself if I should’ve done this / that and the honest
answer is ‘NO’.
Each morning I access my computer for a short period of time prior to
I pick and choose what to read, often scrolling thru a few paragraphs before
moving onto another selection.
Today an article caught my eye (a fact) it had my name written all over it.
The former joyful gal for many years, amidst periods of turmoil, no longer
And then I read how a woman going through a divorce revealed to her
close friends she can’t be happy for others.
She stated her true feelings and this admission of truth made her friends feel
Yes, I’ve experienced the same feeling.
It was never about self-pity rather hope for a bit of support and understanding.
I learned to never expect anything from another individual.
From the contents of this morning’s article I assumed perhaps it better to lie.
This certainly wouldn’t be a good habit to form this late in life.
I thought what on earth can I do about my own personal predicament.
On the internet I found several responses to my search for the top
10 stressors and a list of things that steal your joy.
Fortunately I was able to print it out since although I don’t suffer from
ADHD my attention span is shorter compared to earlier years.
The critical voice in my head’s purpose, to find fault with everything I do,
appears to be operating in overdrive.
You want to try something new automatically a prediction of failure.
I thought I did something well then thought how it could have been done
Chronic stress is actively turning into anxiety and some degree of depression.
Once upon a time I used to wish I’d never been born followed by the belief
I’d never live past age 21.
It’s amazing how a person’s childhood can affect their thinking for the rest
of their life.
I don’t wish to participate and ‘spill my guts’ or ‘hang out dirty family
Sad but true is I’ve been privy to the majority of major stressors on those lists.
Life isn’t fair for all.
Although I’ve accepted the truth that ‘bad things happen to good people
people’ it hasn’t exactly made my life easier to endure each day.
I’m a firm believer that no person who hasn’t experienced the same
negative events can actually know how you feel.
Today I’ll end with a note about Friday the 13th, a day dreaded by superstitious
people. This is a true personal experience.
While enjoying an afternoon playing Bingo at the local senior center, a friend
sitting at the table expressed her concern about this date.
I told her, “Don’t worry Dolores, it’s just a day and bad luck can happen any day.”
Once home my affirmation of positivity turned amuck when I opened my mailbox
and found a letter of legal concern, another court appearance unless I agree to
I couldn’t believe the person with whom I’d spent most of my life would be onboard
with the plan to financially destroy me. (Round #4)
Small wonder I learned to distrust family members plus a few certain friends.
Live and learn.
Still tired – bit confused
Dang tenant lacks consideration
Life full deceit
Winner be versus admission defeat
Additional notes topic wisdom
Another chapter versed Ageism
I didn’t realize yesterday was ‘National Forget-Me-Not Day’ until I brought up
the page of my favorite senior center early this morn.
The post must have been incoming the latter portion of the day thus I missed it.
No e-cards sent nor received, no special phone calls nor a quite popular way to say
‘I miss you’ – ‘I remember you’ by sending a packet of Forget-Me-Not seeds via mail.
What’s happened to humans? We forget to remember.
Perhaps a calendar of what each day is special for would be a wonderful
It’s interesting how a bad experience can alter one’s mood.
Yesterday I asked my hometown group a question with regard to vehicle
inspection stickers and extensions.
I was thankful to the intelligent individuals who replied; however, the group
administrator (name foreign to me) commented I should inquire at the RMV.
It’s interesting how a bit of power from someone younger goes straight to
Early afternoon while still sunny and balmy I proceeded to the mechanic’s
garage and the sticker good for one year is now adhered on my vehicle’s
Today – hey I’m blogging about myself – a page from the daily diary.
I did some writing – three people received e-mails from me as I found it’s best
not to procrastinate when the opportunity arises to write them.
Reading news articles, writing mini-letters – I shouldn’t have sat down on the
couch with my notebook. Why?
No lunch rather took an early p.m. nap. Oh, lovely!!
I’m near 100% certain this post is far from what I would have written had I
remained awake earlier today.
Tired I think I’ll close rather than continue to babble out loud. I realize anyone
who reads this can’t actually hear my voice; they can form their opinion though
based on my thoughts typed here.
Scenario: Walmart’s ladies’ restroom
Immediately after closing the stall door a woman heard the voice of
of a complete stranger posing the question: “Are you all right?”
She politely answered: “Yes, I’m fine.”
The female voice responded with another question.
“So what are you up to?”
The lady thought for a moment then replied: “Uumm, I’m trying to handle
a bit of private business.”
Oh goodness, another question (third one) from the voice – an annoyance.
“Can I come over?“
In a rather loud tone the woman responds with: “EXCUSE ME!!”
And then a final comment from the voice: “Listen, sorry I’ll have to
call you back; some idiot in the next stall replies to all my questions.”
NOTE: It appears people take their cell phones anywhere – everywhere.
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