In My Father’s House


In My Father’s House
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

A photo from the past when I went to visit my father in hopes of connecting … bonding with him when I was in my late twenties.  Sadly … I couldn’t make it happen.  I think my step-mother saw me as a threat. I didn’t understand things as I do now.  I found out how treacherous she was many years later … I’ve forgiven her and my father some years ago. They did what they thought best for them.  They are both gone now … I wonder if both thought about what they did to me before they died.  I feel no anger toward them … I just wonder.

 

 

 

 

You talk to your mother all the time. You trust, ask, tell her your private thoughts, ideas you wouldn’t trust even your best friend with. Why? You trust her … she’s your mother. You can be ‘you’ with her … she knows exactly who her child is. You know who she is … mama.

 
Your mother will talk to you just as she talked to you as a child. She will worry for you and hope you’ll make wise decisions. She’s always there for you no matter what. Why? Because you are her child … mothers are like that. You are her baby no matter how old.

 
I don’t know about fathers but, mine would ignore me when I lived with him. He was afraid to speak to me … because of making my step-mother angry at him. When he spoke ‘to me’ … it was different … he made it sound gruff, angry.

 
When I spoke to him I spoke with respect … just as if he was a stranger. I may have been his oldest child … but, my stepmother made it impossible for him to love me. His anger was to hide any paternal feelings toward me.

 
No one would know we were father-daughter excepting … I favored him … a lot. Listening to us … one would think I was a polite, well-mannered girl speaking to an older man. They would think the man didn’t like me no matter how nicely I spoke to him. His smile at me never quite reached his eyes.

 
My sisters spoke to him in a very familiar way. They spoke to him like the daddy he was to them. They had grown up with him … I didn’t have an opportunity to. He would tease, laugh, cut-up with them. I loved to hear them … I longed to know what it felt like for a father to love me. You know … a daddy.

 
Whenever I met my father in the doorway … I felt fear. I dreaded what would come next. He would give me an angry glare … and I hoped he would walk on through the doorway before me … he would stand … wait for me to go through. He would nod his head for me to. It was always awkward … and it made me feel nervous all the time.  He would jump out of the way for me to go by.  Oh, the pain I felt in my young Heart.

 
I always jumped to do any chore with a smile … when I did it to my best ability … I would go the extra mile. I would do just a little more than asked to do while thinking ‘that will make them love me more, they’ll be glad I’m here’. No matter what I did … my dad would sit back … make sarcastic comments to me. He would say I did things so someone would notice me. He was right … I did them to be loved. It didn’t work … nothing worked.

 
I went to school … came home … went to the bedroom and sat on the bed … studied. I would stare at the words in my book … my stomach would be tied in knots at what comments to come my way that evening.

 
I couldn’t eat … no one seemed to notice. I didn’t until I ran away one day … and saw how little I was … and even pretty! I never saw myself while living at my father’s house. I remember how boys would whistle … never knowing it was me … I always looked around to see who they whistled at. No one would be there … I still didn’t realize. The day I ran away … my eyes begin to open … I began to see me. I was just a being at my father’s house.

 
The day my daddy slapped me in the face was the day I planned to run away. That was the first, last time he slapped me. That slap did something to me … it devastated me … it destroyed any love I had for my father. It also, destroyed any feelings I had toward my step-mother, sisters.

 
I was slapped because one of my sisters lied on me. My youngest sister was always getting into mischief … I would get myself in trouble … say I did something to keep her from being grounded. Why? I was the big sister, I truly loved her. Sadly, she and my other sister never formed a bond with me. I would get into trouble for them because I hoped they would see my love for them … hoped they’d love me in return. It never happened.

 
The lie my youngest sister told on me brought about the whole, ugly incident. My step-mother screamed at me in the bathroom where I was … my father stepped in to see what was wrong. She told him I was the one who had used his razor, left it in his bathroom unwashed.

 
She triggered something inside him that made him very angry … he took his strong hand, slapped me so hard I almost fainted. It may have been anger from the time I was born until that day when I was fourteen … I felt all his rage. Did he try to slap me back into the past … before I was born? It truly felt that way … I can still feel the shock to this day … the pain, grief of knowing my father hated me. He only told me he loved me … one time. I’ll write about that one day.

 
My step-mother took advantage of his anger to begin slapping me in my face until my nose bled blood all over everything in the bathroom. It seemed it went on forever. All over a lie … all over something I didn’t know about until I was accused of it.

 
That was the day I began to plot how to run away from them. That was the day I began to hate my father, his wife, his other two daughters. To this day … I don’t hate them. I forgave many years ago. I look back … I wonder if anyone ever felt bad for mistreating a young girl so badly.

 
I lived in a beautiful home … spotless. I dressed in the nicest clothes all ironed, starched. Everyone smiled … was happy … family sounds all around. Laughter, squeals from the children. Fun, teasing talk to them from the parents. I lived in the best family … only I wasn’t a part of them excepting being my father’s child.

 

 
Note from this Author:

 

 

These are some of the thoughts I had today … when thinking about how when we talk to the same person … the person you talk to isn’t the one I talk to.

 
When I spoke to my father … it was to a stranger. When my sisters spoke to my father … it was to their daddy who loved them.

 
When you speak to someone … always know you speak to them as you know them … another person comes up will speak to them as they know them … you will never speak to the same person the other is talking to. Think about it.

 
Photo/true story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

I Wish I Had a Second Chance


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

2a128-20160301_123444

Photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee   … taken at a time when Skip almost died … 2016.

 

 

 

 

I don’t mind when the day comes for me to die. I’m not afraid … I look forward. Every mistake I make in this life will be made up for at a later time … as long as I truly try to do better while living in this life.
I am married to my soulmate, best friend … the most perfect man for me. We both look forward to dying … because one day all the years we never had together when younger … we will have them at a later time … after we die. We always have wished we’d met at an earlier time in life.
This is how I wish Life … Death … really worked. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know during your life today … that you’d have a second chance to know pure happiness … how to avoid mistakes, things in our second life.
I’m not really looking forward to dying because when I die I know I won’t have a second chance to live again … to make all wrong in this life … right in a second life. I won’t get to do things over again … change all the things to good in my life. Skip and I have talked numerous times of how we wish we could do Life over again … how we would make things be instead of like they have been.
What is that saying about ‘hindsight is twenty-twenty’? I wish I could see forward as good as … looking back.
I realize our mistakes from yesterday make us who we are today. It’s a shame not to be able to live a life of doing everything right to know, see how it feels when all is good. I would like a second chance.

 

 
Note by this Author:

I wish so much we all had that second life to look forward to … I wish we could know how it feels to go through life knowing where we made wrong decisions, mistakes in our lives … know how wonderful it felt to go on … knowing how good it feels to not have made them. I wish …
Photo/story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Duke to Being Perfect … Almost Killing Myself to a Roller Coaster Ride!


Duke to Being Perfect … Almost Killing Myself to a Roller Coaster Ride!

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka GrannyGee

 

 

 

Skip always said I had the ability to entertain myself … this is proof! By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/Granny Gee

Photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee (Me … Skip)
I got up with Duke on my mind … I knew he needed to get his pain meds this morning.
 
 
 
 
I got up …. made all The Pups’ breakfast early … went out to Duke’s kennel … he was so warm inside the kennel cab where I’d placed blankets and covered it with a quilted, weatherproof cover (in fact, the cover is so big … that his dog house is now covered in double thickness of the quilted, weatherproof covering.
 
 
 
 
I had to put his 4 pain meds (tramadol 50 mg each) …. into 4 pieces of cut-up weiner. I hand-fed them to him to be sure he got each. I don’t want this beautiful, special baby to suffer at all.
 
 
 
 
Duke didn’t want to come out of his warm house. Inside his kennel … I couldn’t feel any air moving …. I’ve put 3-thick canvas panels all the way around the whole kennel, and the top is covered with the heavy-duty tarp.
 
 
 
 
I repeat things sometimes in case someone wonders if this or that. When I’m keeping up with something when reading … I’m always wondering and it’s nice to have my questions answered. 🙂 ❤
 
 
 
 
I looked into Duke’s sweet face … he knows something has happened to him … his little precious face melts my Heart. I patted his sweet head. I wanted to rub, gently massage his back, hold him close … right now I can’t until he feels he wants to walk around.
 
 
 
 
I cleaned his kennel where he’d been … I have to say the cedar shavings are wonderful for not letting scents linger …. and when using the shovel, rake. His floor stays spotless.
 
 
 
 
Kissy and Camie were tickled to get their breakfast early 🙂 They ate their eggs … stood at their other bowls of dry grain-free food …. crunching up a storm. I love to listen to them … I can tell they are enjoying the heck out of their food. 🙂
 
 
 
 
Guess who is snoozing now? Yes, Kissy and Camie. I know Duke will be sleeping, resting all morning. I may lay back down, nap. I can’t rest until my babies are taken care of.
 
 
 
 
I was amazed to find out Duke doesn’t have a microchip. I will have to get him one in the future. I was fully expecting someone owned him because he is the most loving dog (Pit Bull) … someone has truly loved, cared for him in his life before having to live on a heavy chain. Someone loves, cares for him now. He deserves only love, caring …. he’s been through his Hell on earth.
 
 
 
 
His nails look so nice … they were clipped yesterday. When he was brought out of the mobile unit yesterday … everyone watched him … he is so beautiful. No one backed away from him as he walked by. I was so happy to see that.
 
 
 
 
I don’t know about other animals (so far … Kissy and Camie and Duke have serious discussions) … I do know with every person he’s encountered … he’s only loving, not afraid of them.
 
 
 
 
Thank God he knows love from people. That heavy-ass chain didn’t make him bitter at all … ‘if it had been me on that chain’ … I think I’d bitten a few asses! Yes … I said that 🙂 Especially the one who put that heavy-ass chain on my neck. Did I sound ugly? I know it did but, sometimes … I am. Especially when it comes to people, animals being mistreated.
 
 
 
 
I have wished to be perfect all my years on this earth .. I tried to be 3 years of my life …. an ‘be damned’ it still wasn’t enough to make ‘everyone’ like me. 🙂 So now … I just try to be the best I can … and even I know it isn’t enough but … I just keep trying. I’m not just going to give up, sit on my ass whine, cry woe is me. 🙂 ❤ Thankfully I learned that there are those that will never like you … no matter what. Learning that has saved me a lot of grief through time. If anyone else goes through that like I have … just be the best you can and go on. There are people like me who will love ‘you’ because that’s why you are ‘you’. I love ‘birds of a different feather’ … unusual people … good or bad. I look past that.
 
 
 
 
Okay … I feel a ‘writing mode’ come on … I’m going to stop now. There’s no telling what I will begin to write. It could be something like ….
 
 
 
 
It was dark, all was shiny with wetness … I always hated the dark and the rain. I walked trying to find my way out of the maze of alleys, streets.
 
 
The bastard offered me a ride … dumped me out in a bad section of the city I lived in. I’d never been here in my life …. I never wanted to come back.
 
A dark figure appeared about 30 feet ahead of me. I felt fear loom up inside me like a cobra about to strike. I felt I might just die here on the shiny, wet pavement … my blood running, mingling with the rain.
 
 
I was holding my breath as I held my head down … I hoped the figure wouldn’t see me! When it met up with me …. it stopped. Why did my feet stop walking! I stood mesmerized by the dark figure just as a cobra charms its prey. I raised my head waiting for death to strike … I tried to take a deep breath for the blow.
 
The figure did nothing … I waited forever … nothing happened. Why is death taking so long! My heart pounded making my head hurt from the vibration … I lost my breath again … I feel faint from the lack of air … I wanted to faint!
 
 
I felt fists of fear striking the walls of my stomach … I was almost killing myself with fear … the figure didn’t have to do a thing! I heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a laugh! A laugh!?
 
I was in shock … kill me you bastard, kill me … don’t make me stand here any longer. I’d rather die than to stand here in suspense … frozen with dread! Kill my ass! I heard my name being whispered! My name was being whispered … it carried to me on the air … Glo…ri…a … Gloria.
 
 
I weakened almost falling to the pavement … it knew my name! It was Death coming to get my ass, take me to Hell … laughing in my face, calling my name.
 
 
I felt strength surge through my body … shock, fear, weakness fell away like ice shattering to reveal the chain that held me still to be slaughtered. The chain shattered like glass … making my body feel light, strong … I would fight to the death. I’ve been a fighter all my life!
 
 
 
 
Never mind I didn’t have a weapon. I would use my body … and if I died I wouldn’t feel any pain … because I would fight to the end … never feeling when death struck. I held my fists tightly … just let the figure make a move toward me!
 
 
 
 
Strength flowed through my body making me feel power … hell, I wanted to fight now. My body began to sway, move in a rhythm of its own … I wanted something to happen now. Come on Death, let’s rock ‘n roll … you’ve come for me …. I’m not ready to go.
 
 
 
I heard a laugh come from the figure … it sounded familiar coming from something unfamiliar. What the hell? I slowed down trying to listen … blood was pounding inside my head making it hard to hear. I could hear but, couldn’t hear.
 
 
 
 
I looked closer trying to see why the dark figure seemed familiar but, not familar. I heard for the 3rd time a laugh, then my name floating on the air! I was going to grab the figure … shake it until I found out what I wanted to know. I was the hunted … now I had become the hunter …. no fear, dread of dying.
 
 
 
 
I grabbed the dark figure screaming at it “who are you, who are you!?” The figure dissolved in my hands to the ground! I stood stunned as I listened to hysterical laughing! Laughing!? I kicked the figure … it laughed harder! I kicked it again! The figure pure howled its laughter like a wolf! Ha! Ha! Ha!
 
 
 
 
I stopped kicking the figure … suppose it was someone I knew? I couldn’t bear to hurt another soul. I heard my name on the air again …. Gloria …. it’s just me! It’s just me, Gloria!
 
 
 
 
I looked down closer at the figure …. I took my clenched fist closer to its head … my fingers uncurled to grab the hood on the figure’s head … I jerked it back.
 
 
 
 
In the night light I saw a laughing face looking up at me! It was …. it was …
 
 
 
 
Me! Myself! I! looking back at me! I had just scared myself, me, and I! to death!
 
 
 
 
Gracious, I still feel the effects as I come out of my writing mode! 🙂 ❤
 
 
 
 
Have you ever had a song in your head? You had to sing it to get it out? No matter how good, how bad? Well, you just saw what happens to me when I’m struck by the writing bug … no matter how good … how bad!
 
 
 
 
I just took you for a ride without meaning to … but, I had to see how far I would go with my story… and if I needed to keep writing on.
 
 
 
 
I took myself for a roller-coaster ride too …. I’m still feeling the adrenaline surging through me! 🙂
 
 
 
 
Wow! I am taking deep breaths now! Skip tells me all the time … that I know how to entertain myself! Ha! Ha! Ha! That I do! Tommy was just like me in that respect! I miss him so much … we had such fun! ❤
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Pieces of Me Together Again


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

 

 

 

2-08-17-sweet-duke-i-rearranged-his-kennel-016

‘Pieces of Me’ …. photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

 

 

 
I took a photo of myself. I see how far I’ve come in weight loss. I am looking forward to taking off maybe 40 more pounds.

 

 

 
Looking back at my photos after Tommy, my only child, died … my photos are horrible. I don’t even recognize the person I see. I was just a mess … I had given up … I knew it would never matter again if I looked pretty … looked even decent enough to go outside the house. I didn’t care anymore … I did not care … my son had died … so did I.

 

 

 
Three … four … five years went by … slowly without being fully aware of it … I began to come back to life. I wanted to live … I had always loved life! I realized I wanted to live in the light of the sunshine again! I wanted to smile, be happy! How could I … I asked myself. Tommy’s dead … my son is dead … how can I smile, feel happiness ever again? Just how could I?

 

 

 
Time went by … it didn’t happen overnight that’s for sure … I began to want to live, look nice once again. Oh my God … my mirror told me it was just pure … impossible! There wasn’t any way at all I could see … of coming back from the darkness I’d entered. I didn’t know if the light could reach that far.

 

 

 
I kept trying to find me in my mirror … only once in a great while would I see ‘ME’. I would try to hold on to me when I saw me … I would fade away. All would be left in the mirror was an old, pitiful … fat woman who couldn’t look me in the eye. She would turn her head.

 

 

 
Time went by … I can’t really remember now how much time … I began to see ‘ME’ more often. I would smile … ‘ME’ would smile back! I saw happiness to meet up with my old self … ‘ME’ would disappear over and over. I realized I wanted ‘ME’ back. I wanted to live … how could I? … my baby was gone. How could I come back to life when the only beautiful part of me was … gone?

 

 

 
Time went by … more time went by … how much I can’t tell you now. I began to accept my son wasn’t coming back to me … I wasn’t going to hear his voice again … feel his hugs for his mother … laugh, tease his ‘ole mom’. I wasn’t going to worry over him anymore … cry when he was sad … laugh, feel happy when good things happened to him. I wasn’t … I wasn’t … I wasn’t. I wanted to scream to the universe to please let him come back … don’t let this be so.

 

 

 
Strangely … no one ever heard the cries, screaming to God to please not let Tommy be dead … no one ever saw the weight of grief on my shoulders. Everything was so … quiet.

 

 

 
I was a hellacious storm going on in front of anyone’s eyes … the quietest storm ever … no one ever saw … heard a thing. I was the worst storm to ever hit me … how I weathered it … I don’t know.

 

 

 
Just think of a redwood tree … think of me scarred, battered to hell … still standing in the beautiful sunlight I so craved. I never talked to anyone about my grief … I only wrote my pain telling the whole world I hurt … how badly I hurt. I never told anyone … I wrote it. I was ashamed of my pain. I didn’t want those around me to know … you know how prideful people can be.

 

 

 
I no longer have such pride about a lot of things now. I’ve met reality head-on … battled it … I’m still standing. I’m alright now … I have both feet planted on the ground. Knock me down … I’ll just get right back up, dust my pants off … I want to live now. I have put my pieces back together once again … just like Humpty Dumpty.

 

 

 

 

Note by this Author:

 

 

 

Grief is ugly … it’s the most real part of life. If you’ve lost a child … a part of ‘you’ … you know exactly what I write about. If you haven’t lost a child … thank God you don’t have to know any of these feelings … know such God-awful darkness in your life. It’s hard to come back from. How I’ve made it … I don’t know. To look at me now … you see the ravages of Hell on me … but, I’m still standing. I’m doing the very best with the pieces I have left of ‘ME’ … I found them in my mirror again. I was so glad to see ‘Me’ after so long. I thought I was gone too.

 

 

 
Photo/true story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Thoughts Are The Stepping Stones Of Life


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

Our THOUGHTS are stepping stones in this life. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Photo by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  I was … thinking … maybe THOUGHTS are like this photo … they are … there.  When one begins to add more things to the picture … flowers, fences, stepping stones, wooden bridges … so on … we create beautiful things in life.  THOUGHTS are the stepping stones in this life.

 

 

 

 

Since you are a human like me … I’m assuming you have the same thoughts I do.  Maybe not at the same time … or think quite in the same way as I do.  Surely … the same things are thought at one time or other that we all think about depending on what’s going on in our lives.

 

 

 

Sometimes I think of something … mention it to others.  They’ll look blankly at me, not know what to say.  I instantly know they haven’t been thinking anything at all about what I’m thinking of.

 

 

 

When others don’t think the way I do … or have heard of anything I think about … this leads me to believe that’s why things are invented, or grand things happen.  Our thoughts are stepping stones … we all travel in life on thoughts.  Think about it.

 

 

 

Our thoughts are what life is about.  Think of humans walking around without a brain … they would wander aimlessly without a thought in their heads.  They couldn’t do not one thing without a thought.  Think about it.

 

 

 

I know you’ve heard just like I have … two heads or more is better than one.  Why?  THOUGHTS.  Sharing ideas … brainstorming.  That’s how we come up with the grand scheme of things.

 

 

 

Surely no one is vain enough to think they alone … invented something, designed something, wrote something … without through time someone else’s thoughts influencing, flavoring, molding their thoughts until … one day out of the blue … they have an idea!  To write a best seller!  Invent something of value!  To do something so special to make a difference in this world!

 

 

 

Just like when I make my homemade soup … ingredients are like … THOUGHTS.  I put this one in … that one in … until I come up with the best tasting soup possible!  ( Now, my mind is on making a good homemade soup! )

 

 

 

That’s the best homemade soup I’ve ever eaten! Wow, this is good soup!  When one takes the best ingredients they alone ‘decide’ on out of listening, learning from others through time … through THOUGHTS … they come up with the best soup possible!  They may add, take away the ingredients/THOUGHTS that do or don’t work for them coming up with their own signature soup!  When someone tastes their soup … they know who made it.

 

 

 

Sometimes … people get the same thoughts … they have to find unique ways to use them to come up with their own idea of making them into something special.

 

 

 

For example … a lot of us write constantly … we feel very happy when someone likes what we write (I am so happy when someone loves my soup … why it matters so much … I don’t know! 🙂  We all say/write the same things … the ones who change up the words, make them more interesting … are the ones who come up with the best read.  Even a best seller!

 

 

 

Whether you know it or not … you are thinking.  Whether you know it or not … you are listening to others constantly.  Your mind is like a filing cabinet … filing thoughts away.  Whether you know it or not … you are always thinking of better ways to do things in your life.

 

 

 

Another example:  We rescued a Pit Bull dog from Hell.  Our friends helped us to purchase a chain link kennel, doghouse, etc.  We brought Duke, our rescued dog, home on January 17, 2017.  Since … I’ve been brainstorming … reading online … listening to others’ ideas on how to care for … make his kennel weatherproof, warmer in this winter weather … how to make his life the best I can.

 

 

 

I have never wanted a dog I had to keep outside.  I love my dogs … they are like children … children live in the house.  Ours have a pet door and their fenced-in yard.  This is what I prefer.

 

 

 

Duke has to live in the kennel … we have now 3 very strong, powerful dogs … and if together without a fence between them … there would be a tragedy.

 

 

 

The point is … I am constantly … thinking THOUGHTS … to make his life as good as possible being an outside dog.  I am using my thoughts … a mixture of other people’s thoughts … to come up with how I care for this beautiful dog who has to live outside.  I never want him to suffer again.

 

 

 

I’ve decided … THOUGHTS are our stepping stones to everything in this life.  Think about it.

 

 

 

 

Note by this Author:

 

 

 

I’m sure I’m not the only one to think that ‘THOUGHTS are our stepping stones to everything in this life’ … I’ve just never heard this phrase before.  So, it’s my phrase since I think like this …

 

 

 

Photo/Thoughts are owned/written by me … these are My Thoughts :).  I’m sure you have thought of these things at one time or other … think about it.  By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Guardian Angels and The White Dog


Note:  I am sharing my story from MyLot.com … I wrote it tonight to remember when we rescued Duke.  The name of it is:  He Deserves a Better Life.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

He Deserves a Better Life …

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Guardian angels live here on earth to watch over people, animals alike. I know … I’ve been watched over … I have watched over. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

This photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  Trees the chain tangled up on … trapping a beautiful dog outside in the weather … keeping him from getting to his house.

You can see Duke, the white dog … peeping out from the old doghouse … he barely made it inside clawing his way knocking his bucket of water over.  

Sitting on a hill lush … green

In the same position several days at a time

Never making a sound … watching life go by

 

Day by day a couple walked by 

On their daily walk

They noticed the white dog on the hill

 

The dog never barked at them

The couple often spoke of what a good dog

Wondered if he would bite

 

This went on through the hot, summer days

The days began to get cold

Nights … freezing

 

The couple wondered why the dog 

Would be in the same spot 

When they walked by

 

One day without quite knowing why

The woman told her husband to walk with her

To take a look up on the hill

 

What she saw broke her Heart

The white dog lay tangled in stumps

Chain around his neck … hung around the trees

 

She walked to the dog 

Talking softly all the while

Never thinking if he would bite her

 

She led the dog around the trees

Around the stumps to his dog house

The white dog gratefully ran inside

 

That day was when the couple 

Became guardian angels

They would watch over this dog

 

Each morning … throughout each day

Every night they would come

To watch over this precious dog

 

They fed him breakfast each morning

Coming back to make sure he wasn’t tangled

Numerous times a day

 

Each evening they brought him supper

After dark they drove to shine a light

To make sure the white dog was safely in his house

 

They grew to love this sweet dog

The white dog loved them

A bond grew between all three

 

Guardian angels here on earth

Protecting an innocent life

Through each day … night

 

No one knows that some guardian angels

Cry many tears over what humans do

Abusing, mistreating innocent people, animals

 

The woman guardian angel woke up

Crying at nights saying prayers for the white dog

She hurried each morning to go to him

 

One day the owner happened to show up

She asked him for the white dog

No, he said … he guards my property

 

She looked the man in his face

Gently told him that his dog deserved a better life

The man smiled never saying a word

 

A snow and ice storm made things worst

The owner never came for a whole week 

The roads stayed icy, impassable 

 

All the while the guardian angels

Took care of the white dog

Walking to him numerous times a day

 

Carrying food … water in jugs … fresh bucket

Several times they found the white dog

Unable to move … his heavy chain frozen to the ground

 

The heavy chain tangled on stumps

Around trees … the white dog couldn’t move

Trapped out in the weather unable to go in its house

 

The woman guardian angel went to him

All the while talking softly to him

Tears flowing down her cheeks

 

I’m so sorry precious one

I’ve got to get you away from here

Poor baby, you’re so cold

 

The white dog would get up 

Walking as she guided him 

Around the stumps, trees

 

When free he would run to his old dog house

Trying to get warm as his body shook

The blankets she’d brought him weren’t enough

 

The man brought a thick, quilted, waterproof cover

They put it over the old dog house

They put a bag of shavings inside for warmth

 

One day after the snow … ice storm

The owner showed up … he walked to them

Saying he had a proposition to make

 

Either they could have the white dog

Or they could find him a home

Finally the day came they could rescue this white dog

 

The woman began to panic 

They had no extra money to get the white dog

A fence … extra food … they already had two dogs

 

She meant to rescue the white dog no matter what

The white dog had to stay that night

There wasn’t a safe space to carry him to

 

The woman began to ask her friends on Facebook

To please help her help the white dog

By the next day … a miracle happened

 

She had the money to go purchase a kennel

A new doghouse …. food, heavy-duty tarp 

They hurried to go get the white dog

 

The woman unhooked the chain from a tree

She led the white dog to her truck … chain and all

They brought the white dog to his new home

 

Took the heavy chain off his neck 

Gave him a big chew bone, fresh food … water

The white dog didn’t know how to act 

 

Days went by until a routine was established

Breakfast each morning … playing during the day

Supper in the evenings 

 

The woman had a roll of canvas

She had an idea to make the kennel weatherproof

Her husband helped her carry it to the kennel

 

She began to unwrap canvas, cut it to fit

The kennel … making it windproof

They put a heavy-duty tarp over the top

 

Now the white dog lived in a cloth house

The thick, quilted windproof/weatherproof cover

Covered the white dog’s new house

 

Inside the house was thick … soft, cedar shavings

Shavings spilled out onto the floor making it soft

A good place to lay on in the sunshine

 

Duke came to live with us on January 17, 2017

He is a beautiful, loving white Pit Bull

He has known love before he lived in Hell

 

He knows what a leash is when put on

He automatically walks to the door of his kennel

I walk him around inside tell him to sit … he does

 

Skip and I have been guardian angels

To this precious dog

Rescued him from the bad life he was in

 

The man who used to own Duke

Must have heard my low, soft voice

When I said to him … this dog deserves a better life

 

This is Duke, the white dog … he now lives in a ‘Cloth House’ … canvas around sides, heavy-duty tarp on top.  I can roll his curtains up each day … in the winter weather I roll them down at nights.  During very cold, windy days I roll them down leaving him a place to look out.

Note by this Author:

 

 

I wrote this to remember how Duke came to live with us.  There was a connection behind him … Skip and I.  

 

Thank God … we can look back … see when his life would have come to an end during the bad ice storm we had in January 2017.  

 

No one would have come to him for a whole week if we hadn’t known what was going on.  

 

We made the difference in a precious dog’s life.  This is my second rescue dog … both live with us today.  

 

We have three dogs … Kissy, our Rottie … Camie, our Australian Blue Heeler mixed (I rescued her) … and now, Duke … our Pit Bull.

 

We wish to have him live inside with us and Kissy and Camie.  We don’t like for our dogs to live outside and haven’t ever let one do so.  

 

For now … we can’t put Duke, Kissy and Camie together as a bad fight could happen.  As time goes by … it may take a lot of time … we will work toward helping all three make friends.

 

Photo/story poem owned/written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Don’t Judge Anyone by Their Scars…


By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo taken by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee …

The roads of Life are many … we travel them to become who we are today. By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Looking down into the most beautiful face in the world.  A part of a parent lays in their arms … the most special part of one.  A baby … a little miracle.

 

 

Oh, he looks like you … time goes by … she looks like me!  Awe, wonder at what two people have created.  A beautiful, innocent child.

 

 

Working day in … day out to provide everything a child needs … or desires.  The child grows up to be a teenager … becomes ungrateful not realizing parents sacrificed so much to bring them to this time. Looking forward to seeing their children grow up, become responsible … get married … have their own little special miracles … grandchildren.

 

 

First … the teenage stage where the child begins to hate authority … set out to be everything the parent doesn’t want.  Anger … dishonesty … yes, I’m going to spend the night with my girlfriend … leave the house … get out of sight … get in the car with a boy.  Anger because being a teenager means knowing best … knowing more than a stuffy old parent.  Resentment being told what to do … let me smoke my weed … do my drugs … aw-www give me another drink.

 

 

Life is good until looking into the face of a parent … bitter, raw anger when they scream, yell.  Screaming, yelling is a mixture of love, pain, anger seeing a child go wrong.   It’s meant to shock the teenager into getting off the road to destruction.

 

 

Screaming, yelling pushes a teenager toward danger, the wrong direction.  How does a parent know … handle it without screaming, yelling?  Pain, love, anger gets in the way … they can’t talk to be understood in a calm way.  Screaming, yelling pushes the teenager further away … they take a turn on Destruction Road.

 

 

As the teenager travels on Destruction Road … he/she sees turns in every direction.  A sign on the left reads:  Drug Avenue.  Sign on the right reads:  Alcohol Blvd.  Signs down Destruction Road read:  Rape Circle … Killing Field Road … Party Street … Lake of Tears … Lake of Anguish … Despair Pond … Suicide Avenue … the signs go on.  Destruction Road … a teenager has to travel only far enough to realize this isn’t the direction they want to continue.

 

 

Teenagers who learn early avoid all the grief, mistakes others make if they continue to travel down the road. These are the teenagers who go on to make something of themselves.  They have become aware … open their eyes to seeing real life.  It may take something bad to make something good.

 

 

Sometimes … one doesn’t learn during the teenage years.  They enter their twenties … everything is learned hard.  Mistakes are made … near death … always something scary … bad.  Destruction Road is no place for anyone who isn’t bad to the bone … for anyone who really is good, kind, cares about others. Destruction Road is sure Hell on Earth.

 

 

If only a teenager could open his/her eyes … see the love, pain, anger when a parent screams, yells … see it for what it really is … they would never turn on Destruction Road.  They might make some wrong turns in life … that’s to help one learn from mistakes but … it’s better than traveling on Destruction Road.

 

 

If only a parent could reach a teenager in a calm, quiet way.  I sometimes, wonder … if an invisible wall naturally falls into place at a certain time in a child’s life to blind them to see which direction they will take?  I wonder if invisible earplugs impair a teen’s hearing?  I wonder if an invisible box surrounds a youngster’s heart … making it cold as ice.  Have you ever seen how cold a child, a teenager’s heart can be … when they are on the wrong paths in life.

 

 

Have you noticed on the news … shootings every day.  A lot of them are done by young people who are on Destruction Road.  Have you ever noticed the cold expressions on their faces … no remorse … no feelings at all.  They have cold hearts … don’t care if they took a child from a mother … a sister away from a sister, brother … a son, daughter from a father … grandchildren from grandparents.

 

 

I know from personal experience not all ‘bad’ people are truly bad.  They seem to be that way because of many reasons.  Some may do drugs in their private lives … drink alcohol in their private lives … have addictions they can’t beat.  I know … grew up with this my whole life … that doesn’t mean they are truly bad people … they do good things in life.  They live with what happened to them when they took the wrong turns in life.

 

 

Anyone is lucky not to have all kinds of things wrong with them when they grow up.  Dance too close to the flames … get burned by the flames.  Flames attract people … invite them to come close for warmth … get burnt by the fire.  When young it’s too easy to be deceived into so much … they are lucky to come out of it without permanent scars.  Scars are the trade-off to live when dancing too close to the flames.

 

 

I look back as far as I possibly can … so many memories of really bad things in my little life … teenage life … through my years.  In my life I’ve known so much ‘bad’ … I kept turning … trying to get off Destruction Road, when off that road … all my wrong turn roads.  I traveled too close to the flames … on the outskirts never quite having the nerve to go into the fire.  I have those scars now … no one can see … they are invisible but, felt by me.  I was fortunate … I learned early … learned from mine … others’ mistakes.

 

 

I was too naive … innocent … thinking all that glittered … was gold.  I am lucky not to be addicted to drugs, drinking … I mean I really am lucky not to be addicted to drugs, alcohol.  I’m just so fortunate … my biggest thing is loving good flavors in food … therefore … I’ve always fought my way on the Weight Road.  Oh … I have such a big Heart that cares about people, animals.  So … I travel on Big Heart Road always in my Life.

 

 

The good … bad in my life has shaped me until today … to being ‘Gloria’.  I would like to think I am a very good person.  I know I have a high temper … I always try to be nice even when pushed a bit … my number is 3 … I take a stand, plant my feet on the ground … and will hold my own.

 

 

I travel the Road of Kindness … Love Dogs Circle … Love Animals Blvd, People Love Avenue in my life.  I travel other roads, also.  I always try to travel on good roads … I don’t like bumpy rides at my age.  I have a hard enough time weathering storms in my life.  I like to think I have done all (easier to say than to experience all) … in a good, positive way.  I really, really strive to be the best I can … I know I can’t be perfect.

 

 

All the wrong turns in Life shaped me to being a good person today.  Sometimes, it doesn’t do that with everyone.  The good thing is that even the people you think are ‘bad’ … do the ‘bad things’ you don’t approve of … are sometimes, the best people you’ll ever meet.  The ‘bad things’ you disapprove are … only the scars left from traveling on the Roads of Life.  Don’t judge people by their scars.

 

 

 

 

 

Note by this Author:

 

 

 

Life is life … things happen.  We all have to make decisions from the time we are very young.  Some young people have the ability to go on in life not making the mistakes most young people do.  They may have the family support, friends, good home … food, that others don’t have to make life easier.

 

 

They may live in better neighborhoods, have more stable parents … they may have a lot of wonderful, good things in their life to buffer them from learning the hard way.  I didn’t have clouds to buffer my falls … I didn’t turn bitter, though I grew up with anger … somehow I had a good, kind Heart as a child.  That Heart is what kept me from turning into a truly bad, ugly person.  I could have been just as bad, ruthless as I am good, kind, loving.  Thank God for the good, kind, loving.

 

 

Photo/story owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.    #teenagers, #mistakes in life, #wrong turns in life