We Become a Memory as We Move On …

Posted on October 13, 2015 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

On the porch sat an old woman

A smile played on her face

Her eyes were looking inward

At memories from days gone by

She was a faded rose

Once she was a rose of all roses

Looking at her now … one could see

She had been beautiful in her time

Her soft smile used to win many a heart

Today, her smile was kind, soft

Her slender body graceful, fragile

She walked slower now

A tear fell on her cheek

Another one followed

Then … one more

She met up with a memory

That made her sad

Soon … she was smiling again

She rose from the swing she sat in

It was time to go inside

Tomorrow she would come back out

To sit in her swing

Play with her memories once again

As she did each day

She knew she’d be going home soon

How she knew she did not know

She knew she was ready to go

There was no longer a need for her now

In with the new … out with the old

To make room for the young, the old must go

That night she fell asleep with a smile on her face

She went from life to death peacefully

To the other world where she was welcomed

All her loved ones greeted her with open arms

She held her arms out to embrace them

These were the memories in her mind

She sat in the swing smiling about

Now … she had become a memory

In with the young … out with the old

People go to make room

For others to follow in their place

We become memories as they make their own

We die so that they can live

Generation after generation

We become a memory as we move on

Note by this Author:

Poem/photo written, owned by me. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter.

Reality is … one day we have to die. We have no choice … one day we … become a memory.

Dusted Memories … Go Away

Posted on April 17, 2015 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

Dusted Memories … Go Away

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@grannygee

Dusting off memories from storage

In the back of my mind … I take several out

To examine, look at … to connect the dots

Connect the dots from events in my life

To tie in things to make them make sense

Too many mysteries … takes time to connect

Many things don’t seem to be related

Until … looking very closely … ah-hhh, there’s the connection

Hints, clues pointing to where the next line is drawn

Most people have a normal life

You live each day in a good way, you raise your children

Go to church, go on vacation … you are family-oriented

My life has never been that way

Oh, I got a little taste now and then to see

See for a very short time … how this feels, how that felt

My life would make a very interesting movie

One I wouldn’t want the world to know

Too much grief, too much pain … too many secrets

Secrets I will carry to my grave … never talk about

I force myself to forget … as time goes on, I do

Until all becomes a memory, stored in my mind

Rarely, do I take certain memories out, I can’t

Pain unlike you’ve ever experienced if you’ve lived a normal life

You can’t ever understand … you wouldn’t believe

Experiences most women never have … I have

Many bad things have happened in my life … I am still here

Standing here like a Redwood Tree … silent, strong, weather-beaten

Inside my bark, limbs, leaves are many memories

From storms gone by, storms you’ve never known the likes of

Here, I sit … dusting memories off … I wonder if I can look

Some memories go back, too painful for me to bear

Like the gold/red upholstered chest in my art room

Tommy’s chest … I want to look inside … I can’t

The light-weight lid isn’t heavy … I can’t lift it

I’m not strong enough, yet … but, I’m strong enough to pick it up

I may die of pure grief if I open it up … there’s things in there

I can’t touch, I can’t face … they are in a little pastel, green box

Photos … of my son … laying in under the light … in a coffin

Memory of my hand touching his head … oh my God, the back of his head

A mother’s fingers touching a place she shouldn’t have found

Little hard places, what are they? Oh my God, stitches … a scar

From the autopsy … I was grieving so much, I forgot

My Heart is dripping tears inside … warning, I might drown

Drown in my own grief in front of everyone … all you see is a smile

Never knowing what’s in my mind … my grieving mother’s mind

What a happy, beautiful smile I have … one to put you at ease

Making you know somehow, all is going to be all right

Not a care in the world … you don’t see a thing

All I do silently … is invisible; I’m the greatest magician in the world

I can do many things in front of you, you never see

My mind is busy as it dusts the memories off … from the past

Guess what memory this is, what that is … oh, you can’t see

I am the greatest magician, not only that … greatest poker player

You can’t see anything I do … because I have the best poker face

I have played the cards of life … I have won a few, lost a lot

I’m not bitter … I’ve learned life’s that way

Life, death, secrets will … go with me to my grave

Life, death, secrets … strange things that make a great movie

Can never be told, never be shared in this life

It’s time to put these dusted memories back in place

Emotions, sick feeling inside … these weren’t the memories

I wanted to remember … sometimes, it happens this way

Dusted memories … go away

Note by this author: Don’t feel sorry for me … I am still standing … everything is all right.

Photos are of my artwork, myself, Tommy’s Chest … poem written from feelings … from a deep place inside me. All are owned by me… Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Ge

Feet On The Wall …

Posted on October 20, 2014 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

Feet On The Wall …

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

This little girl learned to be a mean little girl sometimes, in the process of learning how to survive Hell. The photo is of me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee &grannygee

Photo is of my wonderful Grandma Alma & George … I loved them with my Heart. George was blind, Grandma Alma was paralyzed on one side of her body.

All photos are owned by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I cried as the pain coursed through my arm. Damn it! That hurt! Don’t do that again, I cried!

My Grandma Alma told me to take my feet off the wall, put them under the bedcover. Right now!

I had learned to be a mean, little girl … not all the time … but, when pain happened … it made me feel angry. I didn’t take them down right away.

Her one good hand reached for my arm again. She pinched me good! I took my feet off the wall, then.

I began crying. That hurt, Grandma. My feet had gotten warm under the covers, and I stuck them out to cool. The wall looked inviting … the next thing I knew, they were on that wall!

George and Grandma Alma had two full-size beds in the bedroom. They slept in their own bed. I lived there for a time, had to sleep in Grandma Alma’s bed. I slept on the side near the wall.

Grandma Alma had made me put my feet under the cover … now, my feet wouldn’t be happy until they were on that wall, again. How can ‘old’ people know everything, I wondered. Everytime my feet neared the edge of the bedcover, Grandma Alma seemed to know it. Damn!

Well, something happened that haunts me to this day. I could cry thinking about it … if I let myself.

Several nights later, my feet decided they had a mind of their own. They took themselves out from under the bedcovers, put themselves on that wall. My toes wiggled, feeling so good because the wall was cool. I could fall asleep like that!

Get your feet off the wall, Faye! Grandma Alma had raised her voice to me. Not only that, she pinched me hard! I began crying … and felt mad at my Grandma Alma. I reached back, pinched her on her arm … hard!

Ouch! Faye, that hurts! I could hear the pain in her voice. I was so sorry instantly for hurting my Grandma Alma. I’m sorry, Grandma, I’m so sorry.

Afterwards, I couldn’t keep it off my little girl mind. I had hurt my Grandma. I could swear she almost cried. It broke my Heart.

Through time, I’ve always thought about it … especially, when my feet can reach a wall while I’m in bed. Not long ago, I did that very thing … I put both bare feet on the wall!

I instantly felt bad … the memory of pinching my Grandma Alma’s arm popped up in my mind. I took my feet off the wall.

I have done this over the years as an adult, always wondering why I couldn’t put my feet on the wall. Being an adult, it’s no fun to do it now. 🙂 Maybe the memory of pinching my poor Grandma Alma … clouds doing it. Also, maybe ‘it’s not nice’ to put my feet on the wall! 🙂

Oh, sometimes … I like to do something not nice! I know I’ll do it again sometime in my life … I just have to. It’s one of my secrets. 🙂

If you ever do it … make sure your feet are very clean. When you put them on the wall … only let them rest in one place. You’ll feel the coolness on the bottom of your feet, and your wiggly toes! 🙂

Maybe if … I’d never been told not to do it … I would have never … done it again! So, I know I will have my … feet on the wall … again in the future.

Photos/my true story are owned by me … Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee &grannygee

Note: Sometimes, we all have little, silly things we like to do just for the sake of doing them. Sometimes … we don’t know ‘why’ we do them … unless maybe trying to provoke a memory.

My Bag Of Memories….

Posted on March 18, 2014 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

My Bag Of Memories…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Tommy at one year old… this photo survived a house-fire. I’m fortunate to have any photos… please forgive the damage to it. My precious son…….

I look into my bag of memories I took with me

When I delved deep into my mind

Old memories, not new ones of today

I take the first memory out of my bag

Lay it on the table… it looks like a tablet

I press the button on the side to make it play

I see a young mother who has just given labor

To a little 8 lb. 4 1/2 oz baby boy

She cradled him in her arms, looked down at him

Looked down in amazement at what she’d brought into the world

She was a mother now, she had a child

Her very own son she could call her own

Her body shook as she held her baby tight

She had a cold, and coughed a lot

She turned her head each time she coughed

The night before her baby boy was born, there was an earthquake

She was in such pain, she didn’t know the difference

Though she imagined her bed moved around

The earthquake announced the coming birth of her baby

There was a full moon that night, also

The next morning her child was born at 11:28

The young mother was myself, I had my only child

A little strawberry, blonde-headed boy

Named Tommy… he had beautiful blue eyes

I pressed the button to turn this memory off

I put it back into the bag, chose another one

Pressed the button on the side to turn it on

A little blonde-headed boy was standing in the sunshine

With a baffled expression on his face, holding his hand on his head

What was that, I heard his sweet little boy voice say

I saw purple on his head… I began to laugh until I sat on the ground

A bird had flown over Tommy… it deposited something on his head

Oooooh! Oh-oooo mama, get it off… get it off, he said

I pressed the button on the side to turn it off

Put the tablet back into the bag, chose another memory

Pressed the button to turn it on

A young girl sat in the middle of the floor

She couldn’t see for her tears, she was doing something with her hands

She was cutting photos up with a pair of scissors

I pressed the button on the side, I couldn’t bear to watch

This was a painful memory… I don’t want to remember

Let it go… let it go… I put it in the bag, chose another

A little blonde-headed boy stood smiling at me

I love you, mama… with my heart

I love you, son… with my heart I told him

Seems like the sun was shining all around him

His smile had a way of making it seem that way

I find myself smiling now… thinking of that

I press the button on the side to turn it off

I put the tablet memory into the bag

I don’t want to remember anymore right now

I close my eyes, imagine walking down the hall in my mind

The hall with rooms, closed doors to store my memories

I open one… put my bag of memories on the shelf for another day

Navy Beans… Cornbread and Sweet Tea

Posted on January 27, 2014 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

Navy Beans… Cornbread and Sweet Tea

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

My beautiful mother, Earlene… and my special Grandma Alma

My beautiful mother, Earlene… I always wanted to be as beautiful as her.

My beautiful mother, and her sister came to ‘rescue’ me from my stepmother, and father’s house. Rescue me, they did. They would have fought her, if necessary.

They did fight… with words. While they did, I went inside to get my things. My stepmother, father had done the ultimate to me… she had caused him to hit me in the face for the first… last time he ever struck me.

All because of lies… one of my sisters used my father’s razor, put it back uncleaned… they all pointed fingers at me… knowing I’d take the blame, they would stay out of trouble. I did things like that to be a ‘big sister’… to be loved by them.

My stepmother loved it… she had real ammunition to make me look bad once again. Didn’t my sisters say that I had used my father’s razor… it had to be so. Truthfully, I never went into my stepmother and father’s bedroom, nor their bathroom… I don’t know what his razor looked like… even today. I didn’t do it.

Like water flowing under the bridge … life went on. I was fifteen, and I was very glad to see my mother. I was so proud she was my mom… she was beautiful. She looked like Elizabeth Taylor. Men loved her… she was the prettiest woman around… everyone always said so. People who knew her… say it now.

My mother really tried to be a good mother… there were times she couldn’t be. That’s another story… this one is about a favorite lunch she would make for me.

Life settled down into a routine. I began school; I walked to school. We lived in town. I began walking home at lunch time to eat. My mother would have the best lunches… sometimes, there would be goulash. I wish I knew that recipe now… something that was made with Campbell’s soup, mustard, hamburger. Oh my, it was wonderful.

She’d make me sandwiches, sometimes… banana sandwiches. Her sandwiches always tasted best… even to this day. Mamas have a special way of preparing food… no one else can do it like they can.

My favorite lunch coming home at noon… was navy beans, and the little cakes of cornbread she’d fried, and sweet tea. I loved the taste of the navy beans, and in that period of time… that’s the only time I ever ate cornbread. We would cut the little cakes in half, put a pat of butter in it. It was the best cornbread… I’ve ever eaten… in my life.

The navy beans were out of this world. Rarely, have I eaten them throughout the years… I don’t cook them. The ones I’ve ordered with a meal never tasted like my mother’s. The ones I did try to cook… in no way was like my mother’s.

I was sitting here thinking about my beautiful mother… and the good foods she cooked. One favorite being navy beans, fried cornbread and… sweet tea.

The Bare, Naked Tree Stood…

Posted on January 4, 2013 by GloriaFayeBrownBates

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

‘Doodles by Gloria’ … Just A Bare, Naked Tree … gBB/2013

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The Bare, Naked Tree Stood…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Out in the meadow stands a big, graceful tree

For now, she stands naked without her lush, green leaves

All bare limbs, stretching to the sky

Raindrops lingering on the branches

Glistening like diamonds on a fancy lady

She’s still beautiful, this bare… naked tree

One can see ‘her’, even without her leaves

She stands strong, she’s survived

The storms of years gone by

Come a little closer you will see

Into each shiny raindrop

You’ll see memories through her time

Memories that are clear as a crystal ball

Look at the bark on her body

See the scars carved in through time

Scars of grief, pain, abuse from long ago

Stand back … feel deep inside

How she stands there, smiling up at the sky

The big, graceful tree focuses only on the sky

She doesn’t look down to see the scars

Left on her body of years gone by

She is waiting… waiting for rain

To make her grow, grow more stronger

For her years to come

To make her older, more graceful

As the years go by

To make people feel love, when they see her

See her as a big, graceful tree

Stripped bare of her seasonal garb

When she is again, clothed in her lush, green leaves

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Note:

I was reading something interesting…. about writing. I just tried it to see what would happen … this is the result.

I was reading ‘to just write what comes to mind, let it flow’… I did just that, not giving any thought to what would come next. The words I read said not to change a thing, just write your words as you thought them…

I do this anyway, I call it ‘getting on a roll’… when words come naturally, when my fingers continue to type as I think… it’s like drawing, painting … my mind ‘knows what to do’… as my fingers, hands follow along… I’m always surprised to ‘see what happens’… sometimes, I look, feel good about the results. I ‘always knows when I’m finished’…

Anyway… this is the result, whether it be good… whether it be bad. :))) Granny Gee/Gloria Faye Brown Bates :)))