“Well, I don’t see why you can’t still go,” her mother said quietly.
“And how am I going to do that?” she snapped back.
“You better watch your mouth!”
“But, Ma, I’m just…”
“I don’t care how mad you are. You don’t talk to me like that!”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
This conversation was not going well at all. She had come to her mother’s house for some much needed advice, but instead she was ranting and screaming at her mother. She was acting like a crazy woman!
“When you calm down I’ll be in the backyard with the kids,” her mother said as she walked out of the dining room.
“Okay, Ma.”
As her mother left the room, she put her head down on the large dining room table. She felt really bad for yelling at her mother. She loved her mother and they had a great relationship. She was her mother’s only child and she couldn’t believe she had treated her mother that way. She was torn and distressed. Tears began to puddle on the table as she thought about the dilemma she now faced. That pink slip of paper was making her crazy!
It had been a typical Saturday morning. The kids had spent the night with her mom, like they do every Friday night, and she was able to sleep in. As she watched the sunlight dance on the bedroom ceiling, she thought about how excited she had been yesterday when she received that long awaited letter in the mail. She had been accepted into Texas Tech! This was a major accomplishment for her. She had been waiting for this opportunity a long time. The birth of her son two years ago put a dent in her plans to attend college, but this was her chance to start a new chapter in her life. This was the chance to make a better life for her family.
Time had come for her to go pick the kids up from her mother’s house that Saturday afternoon. She had slept later than she intended. She rushed out of bed, got dressed, and headed for the door. As she headed out the door, she noticed the mail stacked neatly on top of the television. Her husband had placed it there before he left for work a few hours before. She flipped through the mail. There were a few bills, some junk mail, and a letter from the clinic. She assumed the letter contained routine lab results. She opened it to read the nurse’s comments. Walk more. Cut your sodium intake. Blah, blah, blah she thought to herself. She noticed the paper inside the envelope was pink this time and not white as it usually was. Oh, I’m not going back in there so they can stick me again. That’s what she thought the pink slip of paper meant. She had noticed people in the lab a couple of times with pink slips of paper and they were getting more blood taken. She proceeded to open the paper and what she read made her dizzy. “You have got to be kidding me,” she said out loud. She had to sit down. She felt light headed. She thought she might faint.
“No one could have this much bad luck,” she said after about 20 minutes of staring at the pink slip of paper. This could not be happening again. Talk about de′ja vu! Her thoughts quickly jumped back to two years earlier when she had gotten the first acceptance letter. That time it was two weeks later when she found out she was pregnant with her son. All she could do was think about how her plans to go back to college would be put on hold again. It would be too much for her to work, go to school, and take care of a baby. She wasn’t really mad about having another baby because she wanted one more child, but not right now. She wanted to finish school and start her career before adding another member to the family. Her thoughts became cloudy. This was too much to handle alone. She needed to talk to someone. She needed her mom!
I better go apologize to her, she thought as she shoved that pink slip of paper in her purse. She pushed herself away from the dining room table and began to walk toward the back door. What do I say to her? She’s probably really mad at me right now. Maybe I should just get the kids and go. No, that would really piss her off if I did that. She had to say something to her mother. She couldn’t leave things this way.
“Ma,” she said as she sat on the swing next to her.
“Yes,” her mom replied.
“I’m really sorry about yelling at you. It’s just that I feel like my life is going no where and I can’t seem to get ahead.”
“I know things are not easy for you right now,” her mother replied. “You have to have faith that God will see you through these hard times. Things will get better for you. Just wait and see."
“But I don’t want to wait forever, Ma.”
“Be patient my child.”
“So what do you think I should do about school?” she asked her mother.
“That is something only you can decide. You are a strong woman. I know you will make the right decision.”
By: LaCecia Whitehead
Monday, July 21, 2008
A Final Good-bye
Have you ever felt like time is standing still?
That’s exactly what happened to me on November 4, 2007. I walked through the cold halls of Manor Park making my way to Room 409. After turning two corners you could smell the Bengay and denture cream down the gloomy hallway. I made it. The door was slightly cracked open so I slowly pushed it open. I slowly poked my head around the heavy door. There he was lying in bed barely breathing with the sheets pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed with his head tilt and mouth open. I walked to his side.
“Grandpa, I know it’s hurting, but I know you’ll always be with us,” I whispered in his ear. No movement just a deeper breath he took as I said those words. I just knew he had heard me. I knew this would be the day I would have to say my final good-bye.
Three hours later he was still holding on. My father, my brother and I stepped out of Manor Park to leave for a bit so we could change clothes. We were about to pass the mall when I received an urgent call from my mom telling me they couldn’t find a pulse on Grandpa. We hurried back.
There we all stood next to him when the doctor from hospice informed us he had passed on. Immediately, memories swirled around me of the days we spent together.
There you are, Grandpa, with me at age of five; both of us have hard hats on and hammers in our hands to tear down that old backyard fence. That’s us again, just the two of us taking a road trip across Texas and you not trusting my internet directions; you decided to try to find alternate routes just in case it took us somewhere else. One of my fondest days with you was seeing you sitting in the United Spirit Arena singing your college Alma Mater at my graduation like a day had not gone by since you stood in that same celebration. I couldn’t believe you didn’t forget a word to that school song. WOW, what can I say we had some great memories!
The circle of memories begins to fade. Today, we will leave you in peace and will meet again one day in heaven. There’s no doubt Grandpa, you’ll be watching over me and the rest of our family like you always do...like you always did.
We slowly made our way to the nurses’ station down the hall to make phone calls to family and friends. For the next hour, it seemed time stood still for me. Maybe it did for Mom, too, and my other family members. I don’t know. But it did for me, and it was hard getting up and walking out of the room but not just the room but Manor Park knowing I wouldn’t be visiting Grandpa anymore.
By: Ann Ratanasavetavadhana
That’s exactly what happened to me on November 4, 2007. I walked through the cold halls of Manor Park making my way to Room 409. After turning two corners you could smell the Bengay and denture cream down the gloomy hallway. I made it. The door was slightly cracked open so I slowly pushed it open. I slowly poked my head around the heavy door. There he was lying in bed barely breathing with the sheets pulled up to his chest. His eyes were closed with his head tilt and mouth open. I walked to his side.
“Grandpa, I know it’s hurting, but I know you’ll always be with us,” I whispered in his ear. No movement just a deeper breath he took as I said those words. I just knew he had heard me. I knew this would be the day I would have to say my final good-bye.
Three hours later he was still holding on. My father, my brother and I stepped out of Manor Park to leave for a bit so we could change clothes. We were about to pass the mall when I received an urgent call from my mom telling me they couldn’t find a pulse on Grandpa. We hurried back.
There we all stood next to him when the doctor from hospice informed us he had passed on. Immediately, memories swirled around me of the days we spent together.
There you are, Grandpa, with me at age of five; both of us have hard hats on and hammers in our hands to tear down that old backyard fence. That’s us again, just the two of us taking a road trip across Texas and you not trusting my internet directions; you decided to try to find alternate routes just in case it took us somewhere else. One of my fondest days with you was seeing you sitting in the United Spirit Arena singing your college Alma Mater at my graduation like a day had not gone by since you stood in that same celebration. I couldn’t believe you didn’t forget a word to that school song. WOW, what can I say we had some great memories!
The circle of memories begins to fade. Today, we will leave you in peace and will meet again one day in heaven. There’s no doubt Grandpa, you’ll be watching over me and the rest of our family like you always do...like you always did.
We slowly made our way to the nurses’ station down the hall to make phone calls to family and friends. For the next hour, it seemed time stood still for me. Maybe it did for Mom, too, and my other family members. I don’t know. But it did for me, and it was hard getting up and walking out of the room but not just the room but Manor Park knowing I wouldn’t be visiting Grandpa anymore.
By: Ann Ratanasavetavadhana
A Walking Blessing
Life is a journey, and on that journey we come across many uncertain paths. Each path carries with it the opportunity to learn an important life lesson. However, it is our choice to either ignore or embrace those lessons. My brother’s life took an uncertain path, and through that he taught me the importance of living, loving and appreciating those we care for.
My brother David and I never had the typical brother/sister relationship. Instead, we were best friends. Our relationship cultivated over a lovely picnic on a fine summer’s afternoon. I was a week old, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. We grew up together, and through the years we have partaken in many random adventures in the other’s company. We camped in our teepee in the garage. We dumpster dove at the local nursery so my mom would have flowers for the yard. We played army and Pretty, Pretty Princess so that we wouldn’t neglect the enjoyment of the other.
As we grew older, we grew up and grew apart but were still always there for each other. He was still my best friend. We were able to attend one year of high school together. I was a freshman and he was a senior, and looking back I never once saw him in the hallways. Perhaps it was because I was in the freshman wing, but the higher probability is that we were avoiding each other. There is no sure-fire reason as to why that is, but we remained best friends and were very protective of each other.
As the younger sister, I spent a fair amount of time eavesdropping on others’ conversations throughout the day, ears perked for David’s name. The majority of the conversations revolved around how attractive my brother was and whether or not he would ask random “Girl A” on a date.
However, one day the conversations differed, and I heard something that I’ll never forget. I was perched against a locker when the words assaulted my senses. “You know David Forbess? I heard he’s got cancer.” Shocked, I immediately went home and checked with my family. The rumor was true. My brother had been diagnosed with Melanoma.
That day I learned how uncertain life could be. Tomorrow truly isn’t guaranteed, and many unexpected or unplanned events could occur. Over the next few months, my brother taught me the power of perseverance and the will to just hang on, despite the odds. Tomorrow may not be guaranteed, but today, and more importantly right now, is. Life deserves to be lived and people deserve to be loved. He struggled through many months of difficult procedures, and we were ecstatic the day we learned he was cancer free.
Although I’ve told him countless times, my brother still doesn’t fully understand the magnitude of the lesson he taught me. However, he taught me that people deserve to be loved, appreciated and valued. He’s changed my life by teaching me to view life in a different perspective. I now know that my life is a journey to be enjoyed completely. I will love compassionately and appreciate each person for the unique lesson they’ve etched in the storybook of my life.
By: Courtney Forbess
My brother David and I never had the typical brother/sister relationship. Instead, we were best friends. Our relationship cultivated over a lovely picnic on a fine summer’s afternoon. I was a week old, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. We grew up together, and through the years we have partaken in many random adventures in the other’s company. We camped in our teepee in the garage. We dumpster dove at the local nursery so my mom would have flowers for the yard. We played army and Pretty, Pretty Princess so that we wouldn’t neglect the enjoyment of the other.
As we grew older, we grew up and grew apart but were still always there for each other. He was still my best friend. We were able to attend one year of high school together. I was a freshman and he was a senior, and looking back I never once saw him in the hallways. Perhaps it was because I was in the freshman wing, but the higher probability is that we were avoiding each other. There is no sure-fire reason as to why that is, but we remained best friends and were very protective of each other.
As the younger sister, I spent a fair amount of time eavesdropping on others’ conversations throughout the day, ears perked for David’s name. The majority of the conversations revolved around how attractive my brother was and whether or not he would ask random “Girl A” on a date.
However, one day the conversations differed, and I heard something that I’ll never forget. I was perched against a locker when the words assaulted my senses. “You know David Forbess? I heard he’s got cancer.” Shocked, I immediately went home and checked with my family. The rumor was true. My brother had been diagnosed with Melanoma.
That day I learned how uncertain life could be. Tomorrow truly isn’t guaranteed, and many unexpected or unplanned events could occur. Over the next few months, my brother taught me the power of perseverance and the will to just hang on, despite the odds. Tomorrow may not be guaranteed, but today, and more importantly right now, is. Life deserves to be lived and people deserve to be loved. He struggled through many months of difficult procedures, and we were ecstatic the day we learned he was cancer free.
Although I’ve told him countless times, my brother still doesn’t fully understand the magnitude of the lesson he taught me. However, he taught me that people deserve to be loved, appreciated and valued. He’s changed my life by teaching me to view life in a different perspective. I now know that my life is a journey to be enjoyed completely. I will love compassionately and appreciate each person for the unique lesson they’ve etched in the storybook of my life.
By: Courtney Forbess
Childhood Torture
Childhood torture.
What else would you call the years I endured growing up playing with my older sister and brother. And I use the word playing loosely. It was more like I was the guinea pig, the one they sent into danger first and the one they always tricked into believing them. As the youngest aren’t you supposed to be doted upon and looked after by your older siblings? Well, if this is the case it was the exact opposite with my brother and sister.
My brother never wanted a baby sister. Instead he wanted a little brother and a buddy to always follow him around. My sister, on the other hand, wanted a puppy. But here I was wrapped in pink, a bow in my hair and there to stay! Once they figured out that I could be used to do their “dirty work” they were not so against the fact that I was not a boy or a cute, sweet puppy to be their constant companion.
Since I was obviously not a boy nor a puppy I was stuffed in closets, dressed up as a hockey goalie and bombarded with pucks, and made to believe my brother and sister were alien robots on the path to destruction. I was not “cool” enough to have a tea party in the hot tub with the underwater mice or fast enough to catch up with my siblings when they took off to the park. Some might say, “What a gullible little girl you were,” or "Deal with it ‘cuz that is how all older siblings act towards the youngest child.”
I, on the other hand believe I was taken advantage of and tricked!
Since my sister was the oldest she was the one put in charge while our mother ran short errands, had lunch with friends or just needed a short time away from her rambunctious three kids. We had a hot tub and a pool in our backyard and they were the perfect summer setting that provided countless hours of entertainment! We would jump in, splash around and do water handstands. It wouldn’t be long until my brother and sister strapped on their goggles and would spend countless minutes underwater. I too wanted to go under and see what all the fun was. As soon as I ducked my head under they would come popping up laughing hysterically.
“What is so funny?”
“There are mice underwater!”
Looking below the water I saw nothing, ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING! Where were they?
“There is nothing there,” I would say.
As they ducked underwater once again and came back laughing, I just could not understand what I was missing.
“They are under there and they are having a huge tea party. You just can’t see them because you aren’t cool enough. They don’t really like little blonde girls!”
Getting mad and stomping out of the water was the usual reaction while I heard laughter and snickering behind me. When my mother returned she would always reassure me that mice could not have tea parties, and they certainly were not underwater having them.
Well twenty-four years later things have changed and I am no longer being stuffed in closets and my siblings do not wish I was a puppy or a boy. And while my years of childhood torture ended long ago I am now “cool” enough to have that underwater tea party with the mice!
By: Lacee Jones
What else would you call the years I endured growing up playing with my older sister and brother. And I use the word playing loosely. It was more like I was the guinea pig, the one they sent into danger first and the one they always tricked into believing them. As the youngest aren’t you supposed to be doted upon and looked after by your older siblings? Well, if this is the case it was the exact opposite with my brother and sister.
My brother never wanted a baby sister. Instead he wanted a little brother and a buddy to always follow him around. My sister, on the other hand, wanted a puppy. But here I was wrapped in pink, a bow in my hair and there to stay! Once they figured out that I could be used to do their “dirty work” they were not so against the fact that I was not a boy or a cute, sweet puppy to be their constant companion.
Since I was obviously not a boy nor a puppy I was stuffed in closets, dressed up as a hockey goalie and bombarded with pucks, and made to believe my brother and sister were alien robots on the path to destruction. I was not “cool” enough to have a tea party in the hot tub with the underwater mice or fast enough to catch up with my siblings when they took off to the park. Some might say, “What a gullible little girl you were,” or "Deal with it ‘cuz that is how all older siblings act towards the youngest child.”
I, on the other hand believe I was taken advantage of and tricked!
Since my sister was the oldest she was the one put in charge while our mother ran short errands, had lunch with friends or just needed a short time away from her rambunctious three kids. We had a hot tub and a pool in our backyard and they were the perfect summer setting that provided countless hours of entertainment! We would jump in, splash around and do water handstands. It wouldn’t be long until my brother and sister strapped on their goggles and would spend countless minutes underwater. I too wanted to go under and see what all the fun was. As soon as I ducked my head under they would come popping up laughing hysterically.
“What is so funny?”
“There are mice underwater!”
Looking below the water I saw nothing, ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING! Where were they?
“There is nothing there,” I would say.
As they ducked underwater once again and came back laughing, I just could not understand what I was missing.
“They are under there and they are having a huge tea party. You just can’t see them because you aren’t cool enough. They don’t really like little blonde girls!”
Getting mad and stomping out of the water was the usual reaction while I heard laughter and snickering behind me. When my mother returned she would always reassure me that mice could not have tea parties, and they certainly were not underwater having them.
Well twenty-four years later things have changed and I am no longer being stuffed in closets and my siblings do not wish I was a puppy or a boy. And while my years of childhood torture ended long ago I am now “cool” enough to have that underwater tea party with the mice!
By: Lacee Jones
American Dream
American Dream
The American dream does not equal having a baby out of wedlock at the age of 20, I thought to myself as I bit my fingernails and played with my hair at the examining table. The hand I was holding was not the boy’s I thought I was in love with or my father’s, who I thought would always be there for me. Not those hands, but my mother’s hand, squeezing mine in hers.
The American dream does not equal having a baby out of wedlock at the age of 20, I thought to myself as I bit my fingernails and played with my hair at the examining table. The hand I was holding was not the boy’s I thought I was in love with or my father’s, who I thought would always be there for me. Not those hands, but my mother’s hand, squeezing mine in hers.
“Well, sweetie, looks like you’re having a healthy baby girl,” said Dr. Galusha, anxiously holding the results in her hands.
A baby girl! Can I still get an abortion four months into pregnancy? How am I going to afford daycare, diapers, medicine, clothes, a crib, a stroller, and whatever else I need to raise a baby? How will I ever finish school? How am I going to tell the boy I thought I was in love with about this little girl? He’ll probably drop me fast. Then how will I ever get a husband or even boyfriend with a child? How will I ever pursue my dream of becoming a doctor with a little girl that needs my time, attention, and energy?
***
5 months later:
“AAAAAAHHHH!!!!”
“Practice your breathing, Emily. HE-HE-O, HE-HE-O, HE-HE-O. And one last push. Come on, Em, you can do it”.
And there she was, Ella. Time stood still. The most precious blessing ever. Little miracle. 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, perfectly normal. How did I ever doubt myself? As I looked into her eyes, I knew this was real and I would have a hard life ahead of me. But she was worth it.
I held her close to my body and rocked her back and forth, soothing her crying and soothing my soul. I held her little hand, squeezing hers in mine.
***
20 years later:
“Well, sweetie, looks like you will be having a healthy little girl,” I said to my first patient, a 15 year old girl having a baby out of wedlock.
She was biting her nails and playing with her hair, so I took her hand and squeezed it in mine. And there it was, the most precious blessing ever, little miracle and maybe someone’s American dream: a beautiful baby girl.
By: Cassie Oliver
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