Thinking this morning , wishing the rain would stop! It’s not that I mind the rain I am just not much a fan of this humidity.
Spelling Tests are on Fridays, and trying to get my brain moving to pass it through to my granddaughter some days is quite the challenging. I just want her to do well. I just want her to be confidant in how smart she is!
Fridays are usually a fun day for my granddaughter, she goes and spends the afternoon and evening with her best Auntie! ” Girls rule!” that is what she exclaims each Friday morning!
I get a little break on Fridays as well. A day to try to do little selfish things, grab a bite too eat with my middle one or go to my favorite store and find myself something tasty ( I eat like a bird) and I smile as I nibble on something I rarely get for myself! (today however I am on a mission so I am not going anywhere I am sitting here with you.)Then I can spend the day doing laundry and reading while the washer does its thing. That is usually how I try to spend my Fridays. This weather however is kicking my butt! Laundry means stairs! (((( shutters))) I am not a fan of stairs anymore, well my knees are not a fan of stairs! Laundry doesn’t wash itself and so I just do it! Wouldn’t that be a thing of magic You yell “do the laundry” and then like just like The Jetsons'” a flying thing would grab it all up and zoom washing begins and I didn’t have to lift a thing or do the stairs!
Well yesterday I spent some time telling my woes of my poor body that just keeps taking a beating. Today I want to not think about that but rather think of things that make me happy.
So one might ask me what is that? Happiness comes from many things but it starts within, you can be happy if you really want to be ( even if you’re feeling a little blue on the inside I try not to stay in that place). I love to read, and let my brain travel all around the universe to places I will probably never see in my lifetime but I travel there anyways while tucked into a great book. I am a fan of great romances the old books still drag me back in. I am a bit of a “collector” when it comes to books . I used to be, now I have Kindle, the greatest material gift anyone could have given me, My children, a few years back all chipped in and on Christmas morning I became a woman of the new dawn reading books without pages! It took me a bit to get used to ,the feel, it didn’t have that amazing smell that a book with paper has. I missed the feel of the pages. I still do now and then, but I am in total love with my Kindle, it’s a love affair of the mind. Endless books to read, words and words that my brain cannot ever seem to get enough of. I wear glasses, Trifocals ,I have had a very hard time getting used to them. I need new glasses again , my eye sight, appears to be getting worse again and my eyes tire easily making it harder to read. I swear I read till the words blur on a page and I cannot make out the words any longer . Nothing I hate more when i am so invested in a story and I know it is coming to the end. I miss the characters I spent all this time reading about. Books are incredible you sink into a great book and you lose all track of time and when it is over that’s it! Then the search begins again what to read next?
These days everyone is reading or has read the “50 Shades of Gray” I read them all. I enjoyed the story, I love to read about people who are considered damaged and yet when they find someone who understands they are not damaged they just needed to find THEIR PERSON. We all need a “Person”. I have one. He is my husband. A great man, a kind man. He gets me, and that’s not always an easy thing to do. I am complicated. He is patient. I loved reading “50 Shades” I found myself lost in their story, which apparently is quite the topic these days. They are making a movie about these books and I watch on Facebook so many people are unhappy with the actors they have chosen to play the main characters. I mean seriously the movie will never be as good as the books were, they never are. Everyone has their own idea of how these people look(when engrossed in the stories) so how in the world can they please all the people ? That is never going to happen. I have not decided if I even care to watch it. I think too much of the book will be cut. Who knows maybe in the comfort of my home I will give it whirl. It is not out of the question.
People have too much time on their hands if they have time to complain and start petitions to change the actors! Seriously who cares?
I mention my husband now and then and it occurs to me that I should probably describe him . He is after all, MY happily ever after.Lyle , “my happily ever after.” The love of my life.
Before I can really boast about my husband , the man of my dreams, or even begin to explain the depth of the love I have for this man , for it is a love that has no bounds. He is my other half ,he is what makes me whole.
I want, need to pay much respect to my first husband, a man I loved terribly, yet I respected him greatly. I have said before and I say it now, ugly deaths are what held us together and it was what also what tore us apart.. Randy wholeheartedly trusted the man who stands beside me today and approved of him not only to take good care of me( that was always important to him) but to care and be apart of his children’s lives as well, He shared both the lives of our children and me, a woman he loved, we just no longer could live together we had become a toxic mixture. So what do people do in such a situation? I do not know about other people I can only answer for myself. We became a very mixed up family that celebrated together as well as cried together when he became so ill and eventually passed away. How lucky can one girl be to have had the love of two extraordinary men?
My husband today is my second husband, my first husband passed away.
My first husband , was the father of my three children, Jennifer, Roberta and Russel. He was a proud man, a proud father, and a Veteran of Vietnam. He was a decorated Police officer of 30 years! He was 10 years my senior. Many people warned me that might become an issue down the road. I met my first husband when I was going to college , volunteering in the Children’s Ward with terminally ill children and working for Security at the University of Chicago Hospitals.
I was very worn out I worked full-time while I was taking a full load in school. Spending my dinnertime helping the children feeding babies ,doing homework while helping a child fall asleep. Sometimes I stayed through the night falling asleep in the room of a young one that needed a friendly face to see when they woke in a fright. I helped paint a mural with a famous Artist who was painting the Children’s Hospital Wing too feel friendlier and not a cold harsh hospital. Trees with animals and children playing in the park. What a cool, thing to be apart of. I remember signing my name as if anyone would ever see it. I felt proud anyways. It was my work and a work of love I would add.
I began to spend a lot of time in the ICU with little children and often babies who were born with a drug addiction. I remember very clearly a little boy who had spent every day of his little life in the hospital he could not breathe on his own he was hooked up too so many tubes feeding him was a challenge and scary for me. He had a Tracheotomy . I learned how to become skilled at making him smile even though it was hard to breathe when eating time came around. He was precious and I planted every bit of my spare time at his bedside. Reading my homework and just chatting away I never knew for sure if he understood much of what I said but I knew he found comfort in my voice and presence. One day I was busy doing my thing with this little chap when the room filled with News reporters and TV crews. what was going on I really had no idea, I was just a Volunteer. Papers were being shoved at me along with people snapping photos and so much talking and beeping from machines in the ICU bells and whistles go off all the time in the ICY units. such a fuss for what I did not have a clue. A few days later I was called into the head of the Volunteers office to speak with the lady in charge. She told me that today was the day this little boy was going home, he was the first child ever to leave the hospital on a full respirator. THAT was a huge deal. I was going to be on the news ,she continued and in the papers. I didn’t have any idea how to process the information she was telling me. Who was I? Just some gal trying to make suffering children feel a little more comfortable.
” Be here tomorrow morning bright and early. ” she went on to tell me. I had classes, I cancelled them the next day. I arrived the next morning to the hospital full of police officers and Security people ( like myself) and Newsman and Cameras and the Head of the hospital and Volunteers offices. family members and people were crying and hugging and so much chatter I felt very out-of-place, I just knew the cat was out of the bag and someone would know I was an imposter of myself I had NO idea what was really going on I was just trying to fit in somewhere. Then ,there was an unveiling of 3′ by 3′ photographs which were apparently being hung in the entrance of The University of Chicago Hospitals. It was a big deal celebrating the volunteers, nurses and doctors, who touched people’s lives. Someone said my name I barely recognized it.
“Robin, this award is to recognize all the efforts you have made on the behalf of all the children but especially one little boy in particular.” They unveiled this HUGE photograph of me and this beautiful little boy .There were two of me one with this little boy and another of me on the Hospice floor with the adults I spent time with. Yes I spent time with dying adults. (Hard to believe in many ways but I was trying to heal apart of myself and make sure no one ever died alone.) They were to hang in the entrance for the next 10 years. I saw it each time I walked through the front doors. I was always stunned! I could not believe my eyes. There I was smiling and so was the little boy. I still remember his name.
There, in the corner of this room ,stood a police officer, well actually there were a few, but this one in particular winked at me. I would later find out he was very good at that. He asked me when the event was over if I needed a ride home. I sheepishly said no. He said he would follow me to make sure I made it home safely it was not the safest neighborhood in town. Though beautiful surrounded by a campus, and Rockefeller Church, Bond Chapel, where I spent many moments at. It was beautiful and peaceful . (He would later be laid to rest there. A place we both shared so many memories of.)
I told him he did not need to do that, but he insisted and after all he was the police who was I too argue with. He did just that follow me home as I walked through the neighborhood with he in is car following me at a crawl. Now and then I would look over and sure enough he was still behind me. Keeping me safe became something I would get used to. It was unfamiliar too me but was a welcome relief.
This continued for many weeks, I would punch out and there he was waiting for me to follow me home. One day as I left from work to walk myself home like clockwork he was waiting outside the door. Only this time he was outside his car and he actually walked me home, he was not in uniform ,he was a man I almost didn’t recognize. I had never seen him in street clothes. We talked all the way home, he was sweet and funny, he even took off his jacket and slung it over my shoulders, complaining I was not dressed warm enough on this chilly evening. I really did not know how to react or what to say this was the first time in my life anyone ever treated me like I was someone special. A word I would come to hear often. When we reached my little spot in the world where I laid my head at nights, he turned to me and asked me out to see a play and have dinner with him . I quietly said yes. He was such a gentleman. He said he would pick me up the next night at 5pm sharp and that was the beginning of a life I would soon learn would promise me a life to be proud of ,and a family I would call my own. For I married that man and stayed that way till he died.
We did not live together for all those years but he was my friend as well as my husband for all of them and I loved him more than he ever knew. He gave me something I longed for, a place in someones heart, a home ,a family, full of giggling children and arms to wrap around me on the nights my tears refused to stop. It was the first time in my life I ever felt safe. I thank him for that too this day. I miss my friend , though I know his soul is quiet now and at peace. He no longer hurts, or aches, he is not in pain. He remains in my heart and shall stay there forever. I know for a fact he is proud of us, his family and all that we’ve become. Every now and then when my son cracks a smile I can feel him breathing down my neck whispering great job. Randy will live through his children for the rest of their days. They got the best of him that’s for sure. I pray they got the best of me as well.
Tomorrows another day , though I might just take the weekend off.
I have many more adventures too tell, I have not barely touched the surface.
Today ,in particular in order to hit publish I need to say thank you to the husband that stands besides me ,that lies next to me each night. For without him I could not do this . He lends me not only his support but when my tank is running low he drives and I tag along. Thank you my bear, thank you my love, thank you for today and for always I could not do this alone.
I love you with all that I am . Forever and a day I tell him so he never forgets.
Such is my story or at-least apart of it. Tears, joys and all.
Thanks for coming along with me today. I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend. Kiss those you love, hug them extra tight. Five hugs a day is the minimum ! I have always said ( someone once told me that and I have taken that part of her with me forever.) That story is for another day.
It has taken me extra long today but look I have added pictures. I hope this helps show my adventures with a little color and style.
Robin ~ a simple bird.