Category Archives: Writing 101

Be Careful What You Wish For

It seemed like any other ordinary day as Amy picked up her mail. She found a small pink envelope tucked in between the bills. She noticed that it was handwritten and addressed to Ms. Amy O’Hara with no return address. Inside the envelope Be careful what you wish for 1000was a pink note card which read: Today you have three wishes. Be careful what you wish for.

How odd, she thought. It must be a practical joke.

Since she was a student at the local community college, her thoughts turned to the upcoming biology exam. I wish I didn’t have to take this exam today. Just then her cell phone rang.

“Hi, Sue. What’s up?”

“Amy, don’t bother going to class today.”

“But we have the biology exam.”

“No, we don’t. It’s been canceled. Professor Emmers called in sick and there’s no sub available. How about going to the mall instead?”

“Sounds great. Let’s meet at the food court in twenty minutes.”

“Perfect. See you then.”

Amy went to grab her keys off the kitchen table. Then she saw the pink note card. That’s right – three wishes. Maybe the first one was the canceled biology class . . . how silly! There’s no such thing as wishes coming true. It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.

“Hi, Amy,” Sue greeted her. “Can you believe the biology exam was canceled?”

“Yeah, it’s great. Let’s go shopping; I need to find some new jeans.”

“Okay, let’s try Janet’s Closet.”

“Are you kidding? Their jeans cost a fortune, although I did see the perfect pair last week.”

“Why didn’t you buy them?”

“I couldn’t afford it. I wish they were cheaper so I could.”

“Well, let’s go in and see if we can find something – you never know.”

As they entered the store, a sales person came over to greet them.

“Hello. May I help you?”

“I’m looking for a pair of jeans. Do you have any on sale?” Amy asked hopefully.

“As a matter of fact, we do. I’ll show you what we have.”

They followed her to the back of the store. She pointed to a rack that was off in the corner.

“These are all the jeans on sale today. Please let me know if you find something.”

Amy and Sue walked over to the rack. As they were looking through the jeans, Sue pulled out a pair.

“Amy, look. They’re perfect for you.”

Amy looked up from what she was doing and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Sue was holding the expensive pair of jeans she’d wanted. She looked at the price, which was cut down to 75% off!

“These are the pair I wanted!”

“Wow! You’re really lucky today, Amy.”

As Amy was driving home through the noon hour traffic, she couldn’t help but think about the mysterious pink card and the events that had occurred – the exam being canceled, the jeans being on sale – were those two of the three wishes? It certainly seemed that way.

But I can’t believe there’s such a thing as being granted three wishes. I’m a logical person, and it just doesn’t seem logical! But still . . .

Her thoughts were interrupted by a traffic jam. Sure enough, the cars were now bumper to bumper. The noon rush hour traffic had begun. Soon the cars were at a standstill, and Amy’s car was at the very back of the line, with no cars behind her. It seemed to her as though the line of cars in front of her were stretched as far as she could see and beyond.

If there was one thing Amy hated, it was rush hour traffic. She wasn’t a patient person, and soon she felt irritated beyond measure.

Are we ever going to move again? I’d really like to get home and get in some studying time. I know the exam we missed today will be given tomorrow. If I can get an hour’s worth of studying done, then I can sit on the deck and enjoy the rest of the afternoon. Come on, come on . . . let’s get going! I wish someone would drive faster.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when Amy heard the sound of an engine racing. She looked in her rear view mirror and watched in horror as a black Explorer came speeding up towards her. Sitting behind the wheel was a man talking on his cell phone, and she knew he wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

Her final thought was: Be careful what you wish for . . .

 

 

 

 

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Share Your World – 2015 Week #18

What type of pets do you have or want?  Or do you not want pets?

When I was growing up, we lived in a low-income housing project which did not allow us to own any kind of pets such as cats or dogs. So my father raised parakeets instead and he always chose to raise albino parakeets. He did such a great job with these parakeets, teaching them tricks and getting them to talk. How he loved those birds! I enjoyed them also, but in my heart of hearts, I always wanted to have a dog for a pet. After I was married, I finally got my wish,lucy in leaves and today I am the proud owner of the sweetest little toy poodle you’d ever want to meet. Her name is Lucy and she became part of our family in 2005 when she was eight weeks old. At that time, I had become disabled from working due to serious medical illness and my husband thought it would be a good idea to have a dog to keep me company while he was at work and the kids were at school. I was also quite depressed because having to quit work was very difficult for me. I loved my work and suddenly I found myself bedridden and no contact with the outside world. I think my little Lucy helped me with the transition and as a matter of fact, I think she helped with the healing process. Not only is she cute as a button, but she is very intelligent, fiercely loyal, and so loving. I don’t know what I’d do without her. By the way, did you know that my little Lucy is now famous? If you’d like to read about it, please click here:

Lucy Become Famous

What was or is your favorite cartoon?

gumbyOkay, so now you’ve got me. This may sound weird, but I’ve never been a big fan of cartoons. Even as a kid, I never really cared to sit down and watch cartoons! I’m not really sure why. Okay, maybe I do know why. Here it is – I think it’s because I knew that they weren’t real and that’s why I didn’t like them. I know. Sad, huh? But even as a little girl, I was always being realistic. Now don’t get me wrong – I loved fairy tales! I just didn’t like cartoons! They just never appealed to me. I did, however, like the computer animations, which in my day was Gumby. Do any of you out there remember Gumby? And Pokey. I can’t seem to remember if there were any more of those computer animations at that time, but I did like them. But as for just plain cartoons – sorry. So I wonder what the psychologists would say about that?

When you’re alone at home, do you wear shoes, socks, slippers, or go barefoot?footies

I never wear shoes when I’m at home, whether I’m alone or with someone. And it’s not because we have gorgeous carpet that we don’t want soiled or beautiful polished wooden flooring that we’d like kept that way. Oh no, it’s not that. It’s because I just don’t like to wear shoes if I don’t have to! So the minute I come home, the first thing I do is kick off my shoes, boots, sandals, or whatever else I happen to be wearing on my feet at the time. And then I go and find a pair of my favorite footie socks to wear. I don’t usually go barefoot because for some reason my feet do tend to get cold, so that’s why I wear the footie socks. And no, I don’t like to wear just plain socks; I must wear footie socks. And believe me, I have pairs upon pairs of these socks: all different shades and colors; striped; polka-dotted; fuzzy; lacy; even sequined! Yep, I can never have enough footies!

Are you a traveler or a homebody? 

If you’ve been reading my entries for Share My World, then you know that I’ve been medically disabled since 2004, and because of this, I am usually a homebody. I have my good days and my bad days as far as my health is concerned, which suitcase 2means that I haven’t had the opportunity to travel very much in the past eleven years. It’s difficult to travel when you’re not feeling well. I am feeling better these days, though, so maybe there will be a trip in my future.  I’ve always wanted to travel to Rome, Italy and visit all the sites they have to offer such as the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Pantheon, the Piazza Navona, the Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps, Castel Sant’Angelo, Palatine Hill, and Vatican City itself. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll get my wish and embark on my dream vacation to the Eternal City. As with my piano dream, I’ve learned that dreams really do come true. Therefore . . . never say never.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I’m grateful that I was able to finish the Writing101 course that was offered through the WordPress Blogging University during the month of April. This was a four-week write-every-day challenge which was designed to help create a writing blogging 101habit and push you as a writer, while publishing posts that meshed with your blog’s focus. We wrote every day, except for the weekends. I was able to hone my writing and blogging skills and at the same time I met a lot of great people, which was the best part of all. This was the first course that I’ve taken through WordPress and I enjoyed it so much that I’m looking forward to what they’re going to offer next. But the part that I’m really grateful for is that when I began the course, I made a pledge to myself that I would follow through with the entire course, and even though there were a few days when I floundered, I still kept pushing through, so I’m pretty proud of myself. It’s so great when you set out to reach a goal and then when you cross that finish line, it’s the best feeling in the world. So – thanks, WordPress!

This next week I’m looking forward to Mother’s Day, and I hope that all the mothers out there are, too. Two of our children, Sarah and Joe, are visiting on that day. Our youngest daughter Stephanie, is at the University of Wisconsin, so she won’t be able to make it, but I know I’ll be receiving a phone call from her. My husband’s planning our traditional Mother’s Day barbecue which we always have in our own back yard for that day. My daughter Sarah phoned me the other day to tell me that she was going shopping with our daughters’ best friends to “gather the components” for my happy mother's dayMother’s Day gift. She never can contain her excitement when it comes to giving me her Mother’s Day gift, and she always gives me something that I would never guess that she would give me and usually it’s something that she’s put a lot of thought into. One year she gave me the gift of a Mother-Daughter makeover day topped off by a Mother-Daughter photo shoot in a local park; then one year she had a professional makeup artist and beautician come to my house and give me a professional makeover (I kept thinking – Is she trying to tell me something, like I need a makeover or what?); and one year she gave me this beautiful vase that she had made herself and fired in a kiln at one of her college classes. So you see what I mean? I never know what she’ll be giving me. But most of all, I’m just looking forward to spending time with my family because that is the best gift of all.

And last, but not least, I’d like to say a few words to all the mothers out there: Remember that you do the most important job in the world and you deserve to be recognized for it. Celebrate your motherhood on this very special day. And I’d like to wish all of you: Happy Mother’s Day! 

So now you know a little more about me.

I’m glad we had this time together and I’d like to thank you for spending it with me. I’m so pleased that I was able to share a bit about myself and my world with you and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

Best,

Cindy's signature with flower and butterfly

 

 

 

 

share your world

 

This post is presented as part of the Share Your World Challenge. If you’d like to be part of this great activity, please click here:

 

Cee’s Share Your World Challenge

Writing 101: Day Twenty – “The Things We Treasure”

Day Twenty – The Things We Treasure:  

* Today’s Prompt:   Tell us the story of your most-prized possession.

* Today’s Twist:  We extolled the virtues of brevity back on day five, but now, let’s jump to the other side of the spectrum and turn to longform writing.

 

I can say without a doubt, that music has always held a prominent place in my life. I discovered at a very young age that having the ability to make music, whether it is through singing or through an instrument is a beautiful gift to the person who is performing, and to perform, thereby giving that gift of music to others is so rewarding. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve had a passion for music. I don’t mean to brag, but very early on, I discovered that God blessed me with a singing voice, and ever since then, I have used it whenever I could. Whether I was doing my chores, walking to school, riding my bike, or just sitting on the front steps to our apartment building, I’d sing. And it didn’t matter to me if I wasn’t singing for an audience, because I knew that somehow there was someone, somewhere who could hear me, even if it was only the birds and the squirrels in the trees.

I think I’ve always loved music because I knew that in music, I could express myself, whether I was in the throes of joy and happiness or in the depths of sadness and despair. I knew that if I couldn’t find the words, I could always find the music, the melody, the mood, the tempo. Music was always there. It may not make sense to someone else, but it always made sense to me.

While growing up, one of my friends was taking piano lessons, and I was so envious of her. Oh, how I wanted to learn how to play the piano! But my family could not afford to buy piano, much less the expense of my taking piano lessons. I used to look forward to going over to her house to spend time with her because sometimes she would let me sit down at the piano and she would try to teach me some of the lessons she had learned. I was an avid student. Of course, she was not the best teacher, but I learned what I could. Not only that, but I had an excellent “ear” and could play some melodies by ear. But oh, how I longed for a piano of my very own! Then one day she and her family moved away. Not only was I sad to see her go, but I was also sad because I knew that was the end of my piano-playing days.

As the years went by, and I married and had children, every now and then I’d still think about my dream of owning a piano some day, but raising a family and other financial concerns seemed more important, so my piano dream was set aside until last January. I began thinking about playing the piano once again, now that our children had left our nest. I own 76-key electronic keyboard and I decided to take the plunge and begin piano lessons. I knew that we couldn’t afford a piano, but I could practice on the keyboard. I have a friend from church who teaches piano, so I began taking lessons from her. After a few lessons at her home, It wasn’t long before I noticed the differences between playing on her piano and practicing on my keyboard. The touch was different, the weight of the keys was different, and even the width of the keys was different.  I knew that in order to derive the full benefit of piano lessons, I would have to practice on a real piano. But how? After giving it some thought, soon I came up with a plan and knew exactly what to do.

I telephoned my church choir director. Of course – I’m a member of our church choir! Since we live only five minutes from our church, I asked her if I could practice every day on the piano in our choir rehearsal room.

“Of course, you could . . .  but, I have another suggestion,” Therese said.

“What’s that?”

“Well, I have a piano at home that you could have.”

“What?”

“Yes. I have a piano for sale on Craig’s list, but no one’s really asked about it, so you could have it.”

“But we really can’t afford a piano right now. That’s why I’d like to practice on the one at church,”

“No, Cindy. You don’t understand. You can HAVE it. For free. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather give it to.”

I was speechless. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. She was going to GIVE me a piano. FREE. It was going to be as easy, as simple, as wonderful as THAT. Before I knew it, I was sobbing uncontrollably because this beautiful, wonderful, kindhearted, loving woman was going to make my lifelong dream come true.

A week later, the big day arrived. My piano was going to be delivered. I had spent the day before preparing for it. It was like I was preparing for company! My husband and I moved the computer desk out of the living room, which is where the piano was going to “live.” I dusted the entire living room from top to bottom. I vacuumed the rug, and swept and polished the wooden floors, making them glow.

Isn't my piano beautiful?

Isn’t my piano beautiful?

Ten minutes before the piano was due to arrive, I sat on the sofa with my little toy poodle Lucy, anxiously watching out the living room window, waiting for the piano moving truck to arrive. It seemed as though the time was ticking by so slowly as I waited. Then it appeared. Around the corner it came. The truck with MY piano! Even my little Lucy could sense the joy in my mood as she jumped off the sofa, wagging her tail, running back and forth from the door to the window where I stood, watching as the truck pulled slowly into our driveway. The doorbell rang and I ran to the door to answer it. I greeted the piano movers with a huge smile on my face and happiness in my voice. I followed their every move as they carefully and skillfully brought my piano into our house, setting it into its place of honor. Then I gave them their hard-earned pay, thanked them, and said good-bye, but in my mind, all I kept thinking was, Hurry and leave, so I can sit down and play the piano, MY piano! 

And finally it was time. My dear choir director had wrapped up the bench with a beautiful white ribbon, ending with a gorgeous bow on the top. It was so like her to make such a gesture; after all it was her gift to me. I carefully untied the bow, planning to save it as a keepsake, thinking I would place the ribbon inside the bench so I wouldn’t lose it. I opened the bench and lying inside was a carefully folded note.  It was printed by hand, and on the outside were the words: Enjoy the Piano! I opened it and inside were some more words which read: May it bring you great joy and happiness!  Therese.  These words from my choir director so touched me that I broke down and cried tears of joy.

It was at this moment when I realized that sometimes if you dream long enough and add a little faith to the mix, dreams really do come true. And that it’s never too late to begin a new chapter in your life – even if it means learning to play the piano at the age of fifty-seven!

 

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Writing 101: Day Nineteen – “Don’t Stop the Rockin'”

Day Nineteen – Don’t Stop the Rockin’:  

* Today’s Prompt:  Today is a free writing day. Write at least four-hundred words, and once you start typing, don’t stop.

 

Up to this point, I believed that I was quite satisfied with my life just the way it was. After being medically disabled for the past eleven years, I had finally come to accept my situation and had learned to deal with the pain of my disability so that I could participate in the activities of daily living. It had been a very long road, but I had come a long way, and now I was at a point where I was enjoying many good days. But I knew that there was one thing that I was supposed to do that would make me feel even better and that was exercise. It’s not that I didn’t want to exercise, but every time that I tried, my lower back would go into spasm and then I would just stop. So I just never exercised.

Then last week my sister Diane phoned telling me that she and my sister Terri had begun playing a new game called “pickleball,” and she asked if I’d like to come on Saturday to try it out. I was hesitant at first, wondering how my back would hold out, but then a little voice inside told me to go ahead and try it and so I agreed. Here was my opportunity to get some exercise.

On Saturday morning, I packed up for the trip to the gym because we were going to an indoor court. I had decided ahead of time that I would bring my laptop, already thinking that I probably wouldn’t be able to play this game because of my back. I figured that I’d give it a try and then if my back couldn’t hold up to the strain, I could sit on the sidelines and do some writing while I waited for my sisters to finish their games (Diane had told me we’d be probably be gone for two to three hours).

After arriving at the gym, I noticed there were six courts set up to play this new game. My sisters had informed me on the drive over that pickleball is one of the fastest growing sports in the U.S. It’s a combination of tennis, badminton, and ping-pong and is played with a paddle and a wiffle ball on a short court. I was grateful for the shorter court because I had tried tennis before and had failed miserably. Goodness knows I am no athlete!

 

 

And so my sisters began to coach me on the game of pickleball: how to serve, how to hit the ball back and forth, how to score, etc. I began to get the hang of the game and before long, I was actually enjoying myself, and so we decided to play a game. By this time, a woman whom my sisters worked with had joined us so that we’d be able to play doubles. And so we began.

After about fifteen minutes of playing, right on cue, my back went into spasm. But I didn’t want to stop, so I pushed through the pain and before long, like a miracle, the spasm disappeared! I was ecstatic. Not only that, but the back pain never returned. This had never happened before. It was such a glorious feeling. I felt as though I had won an Olympic medal!

We went on to play four games of pickleball that day, which lasted a total of nearly three hours. I could hardly believe that I had accomplished such a feat. Imagine me – who led a sedentary life, doing that kind of exercise for nearly three hours! And I had such a marvelous time – with no back pain. It was incredible.

And guess what I did that afternoon? I went out and bought my own graphite pickleball racket because I knew that I was going to be playing a lot of pickleball.

I learned a valuable lesson that day: Just when you think you want to quit is when you have to keep pushing even harder because when you do succeed, that’s when you’ll find it will all be worthwhile. And it was.

 

 

Writing 101: Day Eighteen – “Hone Your Point of View”

Day Eighteen – Hone Your Point of View:  

* Today’s Prompt:  The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

Write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

* Today’s Twist:  For those of you who want an extra challenge, think about more than simply writing in first-person point of view — build this twelve-year-old as a character. Reveal at least one personality quirk, for example, either through spoken dialogue or inner monologue.

 

Dad said that this was gonna happen one day, and I guess he was right. But I guess Dad’s always right. At least that’s what Mom always says. “Listen to your father, young man. If you want to grow up to be a good man like him, then listen to your father. He’s always right, don’t you know.” That’s what she always says. And after that she says: “And whatever you do, don’t follow in your brother’s footsteps. Look what happened to him. If he had listened to your father, he wouldn’t be in the situation that he’s in now. And he’s full of regrets, believe you me. And that’s one thing you don’t want to be – full of regrets. So listen to your father.” I just hate it when she talks about Danny like that. I know that one of these days he’s gonna show them that they’re wrong about him and then they’ll be sorry that they bad-mouthed him.

But Dad was right about old Mrs. Pauley. She’s lived across the street for so long that I thought for sure that some day they’d find her dead in some corner of her house. She was really sad after Mr. Pauley died a few months ago and never even left her house after that. I heard somewhere that sometimes people died of a broken heart and I thought maybe that would happen to her. When I asked Dad about this, he just laughed at me and said that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. He’s always making fun of me, and I just hate it when he does. I think that’s one of the reasons that Danny left when he did because Dad did the same thing to him. I don’t blame him for leaving. But Mrs. Pauley sure must have been lonely after Mr. Pauley died. All her kids moved away a long time ago, so she didn’t have anyone to talk to. It’s too bad she didn’t have a dog or cat.

One night at supper Dad said that he heard she couldn’t pay her rent and he thought she was gonna get kicked out of her house pretty soon. And she doesn’t have a job like Dad does, so I guess she doesn’t have any money to pay for the rent.

And sure enough, there’s the man who Dad says is the landlord and he’s even got a policeman with him. So I guess it’s pretty serious to get kicked out of your house. I hope they don’t arrest her because I don’t think Mrs. Pauley would do good in jail. And she’s pretty old to be in jail. Geez – I feel sorry for old Mrs. Pauley. It’s not her fault that her husband died on her and that all her kids moved away. It must be awful to get old like that. I wonder what’s gonna happen to her. I mean, where’s she gonna go? Who’s gonna take care of her? I hope I never get old . . .

 

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Writing 101: Day Seventeen – “Your Personality on the Page”

Day Seventeen – Your Personality on the Page:  

* Today’s Prompt:  What are you scared of? Address one of your worst fears. 

* Today’s Twist:  Write this post in a style distinct from your own.

 

I don’t think that there’s a single person in the world who doesn’t have a fear of something. If there is someone who says that they’re not afraid of anything, then he or she is truly unique. Either that, or they just don’t want to admit it!

According to Psychology Today: “Fear is a vital response to physical and emotional danger – if we didn’t feel it, we couldn’t protect ourselves from legitimate threats. But often we fear situations that are far from life-or-death, and thus FEAR1hang back for no good reason. Traumas or bad experiences can trigger a fear response within us that is hard to quell. Yet exposing ourselves to our personal demons is the best way to move past them.”

Being afraid is healthy. Being afraid is normal. Being afraid is part of being human. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It’s something that we all experience, and therefore, it’s something we can all relate to. The only difference is that we don’t all have the same fears.

I am no different from anyone else. I have fears of my own. And I can also tell you what I’m not afraid of. I’m not afraid of the dark. I’m not afraid of spiders. I’m not afraid of clowns. I’m not afraid of thunder. And I’m not even afraid of dying.`

My number one fear is the fear of heights, otherwise known as acrophobia. In my research of acrophobia, I read that everyone who suffers from acrophobia experiences it in their own way and may have different symptoms. Typical symptoms include shortness of breath, rapid breathing, irregular heartbeat, sweating, nausea, and overall feelings of dread. This fear of heights can be dangerous, as in situations where the person has a panic attack in a high place and becomes too agitated to get themselves down safely. Some acrophobics also suffer from urges to throw themselves off high places, despite not being suicidal.

Acrophobia 200In researching the causes for acrophobia, I discovered that the most widely accepted explanation is that acrophobia stems from the natural fear of falling and being injured or killed. A phobia such as the fear of heights occurs when fear is taken to an extreme, possibly due to unintentional learning, generalization of the fear response, or the result of a traumatic experience. Like other fears and phobias, acrophobia is created by the unconscious mind as a protective mechanism, which agrees with the article that I read in Psychology Today, as mentioned earlier in this post. It could be that at some point in my past, there may have been an event linking heights or high levels and emotional trauma. My mind could be seeking to protect my body from further trauma and that is what is causing an extreme fear of the situation, in this case the fear of heights.

I have racked my brain, trying desperately to remember what event could have caused my fear of heights, but to no avail. As a matter of fact, in my youth, I had no such fear. I remember going to the fair or to the amusement park and absolutely loving it when I could ride on the ferris wheel. I also remember going to the top of the IDS Tower in Minneapolis and looking out over the city with its beautiful view, reveling in the feeling. And the IDS Tower has a total of 57 levels! Never once was I afraid in any of those situations.  But the very first time that I had to fly on an airplane, I was terrified. I almost didn’t get on the plane.conquering fears 100

Now I’m afraid to look out the window of a two-story building. Even worse, I’m afraid to stand on a chair for fear that I might fall. But what’s even stranger is that I have flying dreams. Now how do you explain that? Wouldn’t you think that a person who is afraid of heights wouldn’t have a dream about flying? Or maybe the two aren’t even related.

But I guess it could be worse. I could be afraid of people, intimacy, or even love. And yes, those are real fears that real people are afraid of.

So what to do about our fears, whatever they may be? I’ve thought about this and I think that the answer is not really all that difficult. First, I think that a person has to realize that they’re not alone. There are probably millions of people who have the same fears that you do. Then the next step is to face your fear by exposing yourself to it. And I realize that this is the hardest step. But if you do it, just a little at a time, then maybe one day you can conquer your fears.

ferris wheelAs for myself, I’m hoping that some day I can ride the ferris wheel again without being afraid. It would be so nice to sit in one of those ferris wheel cars with one of my children or my husband and enjoy myself as it goes up and down. And then when it stops at the top, I can look out over the fair grounds and think: “Wow! I did it. I’m not afraid anymore. Isn’t life grand?”

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Writing 101: Day Sixteen – “Serial Killer III”

Day Sixteen – Serial Killer III:  

* Today’s Prompt:   Imagine you had a job in which you had to sift through forgotten or lost belongings. Describe a day in which you come upon something peculiar, or tell a story about something interesting you find in a pile.

* Today’s Twist:  If you’d like to continue our serial challenge, also reflect on the theme of “lost and found” more generally in this post.

After being medically disabled in 2004, my world came crashing down and depression quickly set in. But then my husband suggested that I return to writing, a love that I had long since forgotten. It was a suggestion for which I will be forever grateful because writing changed my attitude about life and all of a sudden, my situation didn’t seem as tragic as I had pictured it to be.

With the event of my medical disability, I lost my nursing career, something which I treasured. But on the other hand, with the event of my medical disability, I found one of my first loves: writing, another treasure, which had been buried for so long and so deep within me. And I was so happy that I found it once again.

One day while cleaning out our basement, I stumbled upon a large cardboard box which contained hundreds of old photographs that I had totally forgotten were being stored in this particular part of our house. Curious, I decided to carry the box up to our kitchen and look through its contents, and I was so glad that I did.Mom Wedding pic 3

I found a photograph of my mother which was taken on her wedding day. This photograph was a black and white 8 X 10 picture and it revealed that she was indeed one of the most beautiful brides I have ever seen. It could be that I’m biased, but I have included a copy of that very same photo with this entry so that you can judge for yourself. The photo brought back a memory of the story that my mother related to me of my parents’ love story, and it was then that I realized that this was the perfect first story for me to write about after rediscovering my first love – writing.

Regarding my parents’ courtship – now this is an interesting and romantic little tale to tell. As a matter of fact, it’s just like something out of a movie.

My father John came from a very large family of eleven children. Yes, my father’s parents were good Catholics and absolutely believed in large families.

During World War II, my mother was engaged to my father’s brother, Patrick, who was the second oldest sibling. At this time, my father was a sergeant in the army and was serving overseas, and my mother had never even met my father.

My Aunt Dorothy, who was married to my Uncle Ray, the oldest sibling, was good friends with my mother. She told my mother: “Marg, (my mother’s name was Margaret) if you like Pat, just wait until you meet Jack.” She was referring to my father, who was nicknamed Jack.

When my father was discharged from the service and came home, his brother Patrick then entered the military service. It was then that my mother met my father through my Aunt Dorothy. Somehow they began to date. I think my Aunt Dorothy had a lot to do with this. I think she felt that my mother and father were destined to be together instead of my mother and my Uncle Pat being together.

My mother and father fell in love. She broke off the engagement with my Uncle Pat. And she told me that this was one of the most difficult things she ever had to do, and she felt so awful doing it, but she knew she was meant to be with my father. My father proposed to her and she accepted. Now this is the stuff that romance is made of, and who would have ever thought that something like this would happen between your mother and father, of all people? Ah, such is love.

My parents were married on November 19, 1946. And my father asked my Uncle Pat to be his best man. According to my mother, on their wedding day, my Uncle Pat said to my father: “I hope you’re never happy.” Yes, I guess he was a little bitter. But eventually he accepted their marriage and later on, my father and my Uncle Pat became the best of friends once again. My Uncle Pat married a wonderful woman – my Aunt Colleen. They would always vist us on Christmas Day, and you would never guess that my Uncle Pat held a grudge against my father for a while.

I am grateful that my mother chose my father to be her husband. They loved each other totally and deeply. And even though they never had much as far as wealth is concerned, they always had the one thing that is the most important – true love. And who could ask for anything more?

 

 

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http://blainecindy.com/2015/04/09/writing-101-day-four-the-serial-killer/

http://blainecindy.com/2015/04/23/writing-101-day-thirteen-serial-killer-ii/

 

 

 

 

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