Tuesday, February 15, 2022

The Monday that never came

Preface: This isn’t about the rock star. 


Before the rock star came into my life there was someone else. I was the rock star’s first love, but he was not mine. 


There were times during our early years together when our marriage was difficult. The first love came back into my life when I was ready to make some changes but tragedy struck before we could make them. 


Suddenly the rock star and I needed one another. We both went through a huge loss and helped each other through our hurt. We have made many happy memories since. But I still remember the one I loved when I was still just a kid. I always will. This time of year is tender for me. The rock star is truly a rock star about this. 


The Monday that Never Came 

Written Feb. 13, 2022

That Sunday morning he told me what he was planning to do Monday and Tuesday. But for him, Monday never came.

We sat in church that Sunday morning and listened to a sermon about Heaven, and two hours later he was there. For me, a season of hell on earth began that Sunday afternoon. Monday came for me, but my world was shaken, and changed forever. 


I have lived to see a lot of happiness and to love again. I learned how to dream - to hope - again even though it took faith I didn’t know I had. But on this day I remember - for I’ll never forget - that Sunday my dreams shattered, and the Monday that never came. 


For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” (1 Cor. 13:12-13, NKJV)

Monday, September 24, 2018

I'm moving on...

In a way...

Starting on Wednesday, Sept. 26, I'll be doing most of my blogging at ClassicCountryMusicMemories. This is a branch of my Classic Country Memories page and I'll be talking about all kinds of memories, as well as today's news occasionally.

Friday, August 17, 2018

I kept my promise...

I really didn't keep my promise. I mean, I promised a second post today but I'm not really ready yet, and it's bedtime now.  But I'll be back sooner this time with some country music history!

Go on and roll the dice, you only live twice, do it or die.

A couple years ago, I subscribed to Newspapers.com, which is really entertaining and wonderful for a trivia and history buff such as myself.  Maybe we aren't supposed to remember all the people who died in the past, but there were lots of characters who have gotten lost in all the information out there these days. I wrote about some of them back in March and there are many others I could write about.

So, starting today (this is post 1 of 2 today), my blog is getting a new life.  It's slow time at work now, the time of year when I have to look for work to get enough to pay the bills.  Off the clock, my life is changing slowly, but changing none the less, and it may result in my having more time to devote to my already-existing side jobs of CPR instruction and writing non-fiction with a few fictional stories here and there.

Our 26-year-old daughter is moving home at some point in the next few months, and as I'm cleaning out our son's old bedroom to let her bring in her stuff, I'm moving things around and getting rid of things that mean nothing to me.  There's plenty of that. I'm a packrat, not really to hoarder status because I have paths through all the rooms (LOL) but... just getting rid of things that I'm not attached to is working pretty well for now.  A new storage unit business has been opened just down the road from us, and after the "bug man" comes, I'm going to rent one for her extra stuff and my CPR business storage.  Since it's right down the road, it'll be easy to grab things as I go, kind of like I do from my garage now.  But when the garage gets cleaned out... that'll give us more room too.

When we moved in here, we never dreamed we'd still be here 25 years later.  Heck, we only had one baby and she was a toddler! We didn't even know there'd be a boy joining us in about 18 months!  Things have changed a lot, mostly in the amount of crap we've managed to cram into this place. It became too small the day I moved the crib into the "storage room" so that boy would have a room of his own.  I was never a great housekeeper, but when we got a dog who destroyed carpet and furniture, I was overwhelmed. I got depressed.  Then we got computers that opened us up to all kinds of information and entertainment, so I became an even worse housekeeper.  The kids weren't much help. We got more animals, then gradually they died out.  By this time I wasn't working 40 hours a week or driving and working, I was teaching and driving so I never had any free time whatsoever to work on the house. When I went back to nucs and the kids were in college or on their own, I was physically just barely able to work and function, and I was scared of mice coming out of cabinets and closets that needed cleaning. I got two more cats, but physically I'm still not doing that great.  I'm gradually getting better by making some changes that I won't go into here, but I'm looking forward to having more energy and if I can get the house cleaned up a little more (and I am getting there), writing will be easier because I won't feel like I should be doing something else instead!

Tuesday, March 27, 2018

One of these nights...

One of these nights I'm gonna write something absolutely amazing and powerful and I'm really looking forward to it.

So far, I haven't figured out what that is, exactly... but I'm okay with that.  I'll keep on writing until I do.

I'd love to write more, and really, I DO write more than I post on this blog because I prefer not to just throw everything I think onto a blog like a diary for everyone in the universe to read.  I work a lot, and I love what I do 99.44% of the time but I would love to have more time to write.  I spend too much time trying to make money. Well, I might as well while I'm able and my kids aren't little anymore so that I can retire before I die.  I tell people I write every chance I get but it's really not true.  If it were true, I'd have a lot more material to read.  I have many, many stories in my head that I really should put into writing, because I know I'm not going to live forever (at least not in this realm, and I'm not sure how much of my brain will make it through the life I'm living now) and I don't want the stories and characters to die with me. After I'm gone my kids can pass this stuff on to other people, or just give them away, but hopefully, I'll get some of them out into the world and let the universe decide whether they're worth keeping.

There were also people who once walked this earth and not just through my brain whose stories shouldn't be forgotten either.  Those who passed after about 2005 will have more information about them on the Internet for future generations than those who passed before that, and there are stories in the old newspapers and databases for those who wish to look for those folks.  Still there are people who lived quiet and simple lives, whose stories weren't compelling Nicholas Sparks novel fodder (or even Lifetime movie fodder), who've left serious marks on the manuscript of my own life.  My grandmother was one... one of her father's seventeen children as well as one of her mother's eleven.  Her oldest sister Lorene was evidently unable to bear children of her own, but I never, ever heard her complain about that, or talk about it at all.  I never asked her why she didn't have children, maybe because I was afraid to bring it up.  Her husband had lost two children in the Christmas Eve crash that claimed his first wife and left him with only his son. Maybe she figured it might've been better to have had no children at all.  His son gave her four step-grandchildren that she dearly loved in her own quiet way.  She wasn't the kind of grandmother who took the kids to Opryland (actually they didn't have that on either side, but all their grandparents cared for them very much) but she baked them goodies and visited them and kept an eye on them and probably went to graduations and things like that, I don't remember.  She also kept a lot of other relatives, like me. 

She, like Granny, had a portrait of a handsome young man I never had the privilege to know, my uncle Olie.  His death at age 18 was one of those events you see in movies, where a local teenager gets really sick (or has an accident or gets shot or... you get the picture) and dies young and the whole town shuts down for the funeral.  But before I knew all that about the town's reaction, I knew that my grandmother and all her family lost a dear brother, son, grandson, and uncle.  I guess because he didn't live long enough to have children and grandchildren of his own, I felt sort of obligated to keep his memory alive.  I think others in my family might've felt that way too.  For example, my uncle Lanny put a new headstone on Olie's grave.  Lanny was just a little fella when Olie died; I think he was about 3.

These are just a few of the stories I'd like to share, as well as some of the fictional characters I've created over the years.  Some of my characters are loosely based on real people and real events, but in general most are purely made up.  Here's an example of that:  I used to wonder what it would've been like if Lorene and her first husband had adopted a child, or had a baby late in life. Everette was only in his early 40s when he died, so he would've died very early in this baby's life.  I came up with a lot of good stories and characters from that "what if" story. Many of my stories are "what ifs" or at least they start out that way.  I do a lot of research into the past to find details and ideas.  Like looking at Olie's death certificate and obituary. 

I need to be looking at the inside of my eyelids.  Gotta go make that money while it's there.