I Was Happy, Relieved… Sad… All At The Same Time!

I Was Happy, Relieved… Sad… All At The Same Time!

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



My only son, Tommy … with his little son.  Tommy died May 29, 2010… I miss him with my heart.



Today, Skip called me to tell me he had something to tell me.  He didn’t want it to upset me.


I was instantly alarmed… became more so, when he said, “I stopped at a rest area“……  When he said that, I was afraid.  Skip survived colon cancer… I was afraid he was going to tell me he saw more blood.


I waited for him to go on.  He began to tell me that he saw a Celadon truck… he parked beside it.  He saw the driver doing stretches outside his truck.  He began talking to the driver.


Skip told him about Tommy working there.  The driver asked him what his name was… when Skip told him.  The driver began to smile.  He told Skip that he and Tommy were friends… that Tommy was a ‘helluva’ guy; good guy!  He thought a lot of him.


He also, added that the ladies loved Tommy.  We knew that… they always have liked Tommy.  Not only was he handsome… he talked softly… and had a twinkle in his blue eyes… like the sunshine on a cloudy day.


He said he saw about Tommy passing away in their company paper.  He and Tommy worked on the high-risk loads… liquor and cigarettes.


While Skip was talking… saying it is a small world, and such… I was thinking about Tommy.  My eyes filled with tears, and I began smiling.  I wasn’t upset… Skip is afraid to mention Tommy’s name… fearing it could put me in a depressed state… darkness.


I told Skip I was glad he told me… I loved hearing something that had to do with Tommy.  It warmed my heart.  I told him that I had been afraid he was going to tell me he saw blood… because he said he was at the rest area, and he didn’t want to make me upset.


I was relieved… happy, sad… all at the same time!


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Tommy Would Have Been 43 Today… Death Of My Only Child, My Son

Tommy Would Have Been 43 Today…  Death Of My Only Child, My Son

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee








Today… I would have had you a birthday cake

With 43 candles… well, maybe not quite 43……


On the table would sit several packages

Wrapped in colorful paper, with great big, old bows


Festive dishes would adorn the table

Draped with a table cloth of happy colors


All kinds of dishes with your favorite foods

For you to pick, choose from to eat with pleasure


Oh, if I could see your face… your bright smile

Hear your soft-spoken voice, hear you laugh


You are not here today, Son… you had to go away

On May 29, 2010… when you left on one trip… only to leave on another


The evening you went away destroyed my whole world

My only child, my precious son… you died that evening


I died with you… for almost two years I was dead

I lived in a dark world, didn’t know how to find the light


Thank-God for my husband, Skip, my hero… our Pups

I was drowning in the sea of grief… they were there to pull me out


This is the third year you are gone, Tommy

I miss you my son… I can’t tell you ‘Happy Birthday’


I can only think it in my mind, you aren’t here

I can only remember you… I can’t see you now


Today is my son’s 43rd birthday, I can’t forget

I write this … to remember Tommy … I miss you, Son



Tommy Mitchell Sidden

Born:  November 20, 1969

Died:  May 29, 2010



Tommy walked into Heaven on May 29, 2010 from the sand at Myrtle Beach. He was


doing something he’d been looking so forward to doing…. playing his first time


at the beach with his little 3 year old son, Taban. I’ll never


forget him standing on the deck the evening before, smiling his big, happy


‘Tommy’ smile, saying he was looking forward to playing with his son for the


first time, at the beach. Tommy had changed his mind, no one knew


‘why’…. to not going with the family to Myrtle Beach… to going. It was his


last trip… his first, last time to play with Taban, his little son.


They were running, squealing with joy, laughing …Tommy was sending


me photos on his cellphone to my computer back home. His fingers slipped off the


video … he collapsed there on the sand. The phone rung, the


caller ID showed Tommy was calling! I answered it, my mind became confused as I


realized it wasn’t Tommy, but.. a strange man’s voice saying…. ‘I have a man


lying here on the beach, he’s not breathing’! My life forever


changed … he was my only child whom I loved with my very heart. Tommy had 2


blockages in his heart… no one knew… he was only 40 years old.


I am keeping my son’s memory alive, my memory alive for my


grandchildren… Taban and McKenzie. I don’t have family left who can do that


for me. I sit and write my life’s stories, my thoughts here ….everyday. I will


write until the day … I die. Tommy nor I, nor Skip … our Pups … will ever


be forgotten. I hope my grandchildren will one day read this to know… that we


loved them, I loved them…. that they were indeed … thought of …. often.


I write my pain… I write to remember Tommy.  You can see my book ‘I Cry For Tommy’ on http://www.amazon.com/Mrs-Gloria-Faye-Brown-Bates/e/B00BNKPW72 .


You can visit my primary blog to see his photos at:  http://happycolorsandgrannygee.blogspot.com



Someone Else’s Son…

Someone Else’s Son…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




My Precious Son, Tommy… Born November 20, 1969… Died May 29, 2010




We walked toward the big box store

People were standing in a group to collect

Money to repair a church roof

My eyes were suddenly drawn to one person


Tommy!  Oh, Skip, look!

That guy looks so much like… Tommy!

My eyes followed the guy as he talked,

Moved, smiled… my heart began to hurt


I couldn’t take my eyes from him

So engrossed I was … I ran into a barrier

In front of the store


The pain in my stomach wasn’t anywhere as near

As the pain in my heart as I tried

To tear my eyes away from someone else’s son


Sick to my very soul, I followed Skip inside

Skip!  Did you see how much he looked like Tommy?

Did you see… he had glasses, his kind of haircut, too


Tommy, for a few moments I watched ‘you’ move

I watched you smile, talk

Today… in someone else’s son



Author’s Note:


Grief is a terrible thing… it strikes like a rattlesnake hidden in the grass.  No matter how beautiful the day, how wonderful all is… it strikes with a vengeance… the pain can bring one to their knees.


It can’t be predicted… no more than when lightening will strike something from the sky.  You can’t imagine how bad it hurts to lose your only child… how bad it feels, knowing you have nothing to look forward to in later life… no son, no grandchildren.


The only protection is being strong, determined… looking forward, not backwards.  I do this every day, minute… I have to.  It’s like walking a tightrope… I always have to be balanced, so… I … don’t fall. Sometimes, I fall very hard when… I least expect it.  I tell you because when it happens, I promised to.


Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?

Do You Know The Power You Have As A Person?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I was thinking about the past, to a time when I last saw some of my ‘family’. Family on my father’s side…. I had been battling my own illness, been through two major surgeries, chemotherapy. I think back to the treatment I received from them.

I looked really, really ‘bad’. I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. I was deathly sick… I lost weight too fast, and my airway closed off until I couldn’t speak above a whisper.

The mass was on the outside of my lung, resting on my heart… closing off my bronchial tube. This went on until finally… I was diagnosed. At first, no one knew… until after many tests… I was dying. I could barely walk… I had entered the dark world.

I didn’t know anything, but… somehow, managed to walk on my own. That fighting spirit…. I spoke from the darkness I was in… Skip would talk to me, I couldn’t see him. I thought I ate, said I’d eaten… never knowing I hadn’t eaten anything.

Something wonderful happened… I didn’t know it. I’d lost probably 50 lbs. in a short time. I never knew it… nor got to appreciate it. Too sick. You know I’d been happy about that… if I had ‘known’. :)))

I don’t know of a lot of people who can look ‘beautiful’ when they are battling death to live life. Do you? Chemotherapy takes a lot out of a person…. side effects last for years, even to the day one dies. I know.

Your body is beaten down… you keep struggling to ‘get back up’ each time. You are knocked back down by death… to see if you have a fighting spirit to get back up. It happens time after time… until you become stronger, better.

And… if people are added to your battle… to make it worse… if you survive all that… you have become stronger. Oh, God… I made it… that was such a journey.

After surgeries that take your physical strength away… chemotherapy finishes up the job… you are lucky you can even walk… much less do what I did. I drove for two hours to go to my Grandmother Lola’s funeral. I was in a ‘bad’ way when I got there.

I just stopped for a moment to think about that. Skip wasn’t able to travel with me that day… he was on a trip.

I was all alone, not used to going out by myself. It’s strange… no one there at my ‘family’s gathering’… seemed to notice, care. Of course, ‘me being me’… I never complained. I never shared often how I was feeling, especially when I was ‘at my weakest’. I knew people treated ‘weak people’ bad…

It’s taken all these years until this very moment… to realize that. Not one person mentioned my illness, nor was glad to see me better. It was like they… didn’t know, or… acknowledge it. Whereas, I’d run, not walked… to their side to be there for them. To make sure they were okay, after ‘knowing’ they were fortunate to be alive.

I would have kept sensing them… to ‘try to feel’ if they were alright. I would have been… kind. I would have been … protective. It’s ‘my nature’ to be like that… I don’t care who, or how someone looks… I will protect … if possible.

No one cared… no one cared. I sit here in amazement… as I see all of them in my mind’s eye. I look at ‘each one of them’… I smile a sad smile now. But… I just thought of something else… ‘it’s my fault’.

Yes… it’s my fault… ‘I didn’t tell them I was so sick, the trip had been hard on me’… that day. I didn’t tell anyone that I was worried about driving 2 hours on the busy interstate, to get back home after the funeral. I didn’t tell them I was afraid. There wasn’t any one person, I could have asked for help from.

I know ‘several of you’ who were there that day… are reading my life stories. I remember ‘you, and you… and you… and you’….. and how you treated me at the most worst time in my life. You know that saying…. something about … ‘I wouldn’t care if you were dying’… well, ‘you all’ taught me the true meaning of that saying. Thank-you.

I really mean that… it just added to the things that ‘I know how they feel’… ‘I’ve been there, done that’, sort of thing. The good thing is… I don’t hate you, and you, and ‘you’ who are reading this ‘now’. I honestly don’t.

You thought I was a ‘goner’, and I’d never live to remember it. I do remember… but, I don’t have hard feelings toward you. I would never say, ‘do you remember when’? I wouldn’t have to, because… of course, you do.

You may just find out how it feels from your ‘families’ when you become weak in your older life… I do believe in people knowing how it feels to be treated the way they treat people, especially at a time that person’s fought to live, and that person loved you, was glad to see you… you turned your back on them.

And… laughed, made fun of them? Because …of how they looked? That’s ‘why’…. Camie, the little puppy I rescued… was ‘thrown away’… that’s why she was ‘left to die’… she didn’t look good enough, she was too sick. I didn’t turn my back on her… I gathered her up in my arms… I didn’t know what I was going to do to save her… but, she ‘damn-well’ wasn’t going to die alone. I cared.

I promise that I remember probably every person who hurt me when they saw me… turned away, ran the opposite way…. when I was struggling, battling to live. I wouldn’t have ever run away from any of you… I would have come to you, let you know I cared, and was glad to see ‘you’.

I have to say that one older man that I always loved, respected through the years… shocked me when I was so sick… we were in the supermarket. He didn’t see Skip… I’d turned the corner… when he saw me, he began talking fast… I couldn’t understand him… he turned away, almost ran to get away.

There’s nothing stranger to see than, someone ‘acting completely out of character’. I stood there … stunned. What did he say? I feel pain… he ran away. It hurt me so much that I had to hold onto myself… when Skip came up, he asked me if I was okay. I told him I was just very weak… I couldn’t tell him. I was so embarrassed to be treated that way by someone we both liked, respected. I really felt… awful.

A couple years later, we learned that the older man had cancer… and he… died. I felt sad for him. I really liked him, I had always thought he liked me, too. Isn’t it ironic?

Same for the treacheous step-mother I told you about in a previous story… she had cancer… died within a couple of years after she did wrong. Isn’t it ironic?

I could name ‘more’ who had cancer… have died, since I was battling to live from my condition… and from how I was treated by … them. I cared for them; I loved them… if I had known, or seen them… I would have ran toward them. They wouldn’t have died being hurt by me… I would have.

Skip made me go with him to the supermarket, and places when I didn’t want people to see me… I was so sick. I had never been out in the public looking like I did. I had never seen myself look the way I did, when I looked in the mirror. I had always been dressed very nice, every hair in place… and ready to go anywhere. Looking the way I did… I lost every bit of pride I’d ever had.

You see, I did have a beautiful head of hair, long and curly. I loved my hair… I took pride in my big head of hair. I lost it to the chemotherapy medicines to save my life. I had to wear a wig, adding to the ‘look’ I was wearing.

Not only that… when it did grow back out to several inches long… I had to have surgery again… the cancer had returned to the inside of my other lung. I had chemotherapy again… I lost my hair for a second time. Can you imagine what this does to a young woman? She’s fighting for her life, people she loved… trusted turning their backs on her… and lose what we all treasure … her hair?

Skip didn’t want to leave me, when he had to go to the supermarket, stores… he wanted me to fight harder to live; wanted me to do the things I always loved to do. He wouldn’t ‘let me be’… he wouldn’t let me ‘just sit’ when I was too weak… he ‘meant for me to get well’.

Skip is my hero… he knew how to ‘invoke that fighting spirit’ … when it sagged. Guess what? I’m the same kind of person… Skip is. When he later became ill, diagnosed with colon cancer while caring for me… I meant to be well enough to care for him. I ‘had to become stronger’… and, I did.

I, also, ‘knew how to invoke that fighting spirit’. We ‘meant for each other to live’. We are here… now. :)))

When I went with Skip ‘out’… people I liked, cared about…. turned away from me. Why? Did they think they’d die… if they acknowledged me? People ‘used to love me when I was beautiful’… I learned what they’d do when seeing me when I was at ‘death’s door’.

Can you imagine the pain… grief added to my struggle? Did you know… all of ‘you’…. were God-fearing, ‘good’ people, ‘christian people’ who did this to me? I knew ‘each of you’, I knew the very churches you went to… I knew you were ‘supposed’ to be fine, upstanding citizens of the community with your ‘good’ selves.

You were good… I don’t doubt that at all. I wonder ‘what went wrong when you showed no compassion for someone who was deathly ill’? What in ‘your Bible’ told you ‘to turn away’?

I’ve sat many times trying to ‘put myself in your shoes’… to understand ‘why’ you did the way you did. ‘I swear, I just can’t figure it out’. I can’t do that to someone… I hope I never do that. I am a good person, who cares with her heart for both people, animals.

I’m not a ‘christian’ who goes to church to fool, pretend to others that I’m something I’m not. Don’t you get so tired of seeing this happen? I do get sick of it… I stay to myself, because I just simply can’t tolerate being around ‘false’ people. Be yourself… you’ll be happier being ‘true to yourself’… I promise. I am.

You went to your church, probably… that following Sunday… sat there with a sweet, little contented smile… thinking about ‘how good’ you’d been all week, forgetting …how you acted at the supermarket… maybe that didn’t ‘count’…..

Some years later, I would meet you at the supermarket, stores, I would see how uncomfortable you were… ‘you remembered how you treated a dying person’… now, you didn’t want to speak to a … person who won their battle to live. Aren’t you the ‘fine one’?

You have to be proud of yourself… you never had to feel a thing… nor see… you turned your backs, with your Godly selves. You didn’t waste your christian-comforting words on me… it would have been like snagging up on a limb underwater, when fishing. Too damn much trouble to get … free. There’s more fish to catch…

I don’t want to go to ‘your heaven’… at all. I don’t know of even… one real christian. If I did… that’s who I’d like to be associated with. No one is perfect… I don’t care who you are. I truly do… not believe… one person is ‘that perfect’. I really tried to be for several years out of my life… no matter how good I was… ‘I wasn’t good enough’…

Just because ‘you aren’t perfect’ doesn’t mean you treat people badly… especially when… they are at a point in life… a smile, even a kind word could make all the difference in them wanting to live… or to die. Think about that… with your christian selves… when you are sitting there in church thinking you are so… Godly.

Do you know the ‘power you have as a person’? Just moving your mouth in the tiniest of smiles, if you didn’t want to smile at all… can comfort someone without you realizing it.

You could even just ‘smile’ with your eyes, if you didn’t want to move your lips. You could barely ‘nod’ your head; barely ‘move your hand’… just at least acknowledge someone, especially when they are very sick. Did you know as a person… just doing only those little things… can bring ‘big’ comfort?

I realized I looked awful… in comparison with all my ‘family’ that day. I looked like ‘hell’. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake in coming to her funeral… I was being judged by my family members… and some of them were glad they finally had a chance to laugh, make fun of me. Why didn’t someone come to me, care?

On both sides of my ‘family’, no one cared. One brother that truly loved me, cared. My brother, Ricky… ‘Rick-Rick’. He and I, had the same mother… we never grew up together. No one knew he had a sister, and I… a brother… much less, a mother. No one grew up in the same home… together. No one could associate anyone with me to know… yes, I had ‘real family’. Just ‘not like their families’.

I remember once when I was so bad off… I barely opened my eyes at the hospital… I saw Rick-Rick with tears in his eyes standing at the foot of my bed… he was looking at me with such pain in his expression. I couldn’t speak to him… did he ever know I saw him? Did I ever tell him?

Sadly, my brother… Rick-Rick… died in 2007. He was the only family member who loved as I did… he loved me no matter what. I was the same way… no matter what. The love we felt for each other didn’t have anything with who, what we had in life… it was a true brother-sister love. That’s the only time in my life I ever experienced that… it was unconditional. I never-ever felt that with anyone else in my ‘family’… on either side.

I sat on the couch in my aunt’s beautiful home… everyone sat around. When I first got there, they looked me up, then… down. I smiled, my face already feeling numb from medicines… felt number, embarrassed. I shouldn’t have been there… I was no longer ‘good enough’. I looked too bad, too sick to have done anything about it… I did the best I could.

I pretended not to see my sisters, and their families laughing at me. They knew I’d been fighting for my life… I’d just come through battles they didn’t know exist. They never had an illness to knock them down to death’s door… When one would catch my eye… I would smile in a kind way… I saw ‘smirking’ in theirs.

It was how I ‘looked’. I’d been fighting for my life to get to the point I was at in life for so long. I was sitting there… being made fun of… laughed at. I looked at one of them… who was a stripper in a bar… ‘she’ was making fun of me… to her mother-in-law who……… I’ll never forget that. My sister was laughing at me… the one I truly loved as a child.

Strange enough that day… I saw three sisters. One was a sister who had the same mother I did… she did seem to care; she looked for me. She came to sit beside me… I will never forget that. It did mean a lot to me. She never knew the ‘other sisters’ I had… they all only ‘knew of each other’. At certain times in our lives… we’d all lived within … 4-5 miles from the other… in different homes.

I remember the expressions from my ‘family’… looking at her. Everyone thought they were ‘better’. The strange thing is… they really … weren’t better, not at all. She handled herself beautifully that day. I’m sure with her being healthy, not ill like I was… she had surely seen how ‘my family’ were doing.

More strange is… ‘they were all my family’, not her family at all. I have to write it this way… it’s a good thing I know all this… I would become confused! Just know this as you read… I don’t hate anyone, nor do I wish bad for them… I am just writing another ‘color’ in my life… a dark color.

So, no one has to judge anyone… you know, everyone is on a different plane in life… we do as we feel we must do… even, if we are making a mistake. Then… time goes by… and maybe we think about what we did… and we are sorry… only, it’s too late to go back to say that. No one knows where anyone is… and no one knows how the other will take them… and … all ‘that kind of stuff’.

Years go by… and those kind of things ‘become unimportant’… why? Because, as time goes by… lots of time… one is learning the ‘for-real’ important things in life. Those things from the past ‘no longer matter’. Sure, they aren’t forgotten… but, there comes a time when you think to yourself… ‘that’s okay, now… they did what they felt they needed to do… for whatever reason’.

When people have these kind of things happen in life… everyone tends to think ‘it’s the end of the world… relationship’. It’s really not… but, not many people ‘find their way back’ to see that. Be it pride, anger, pain… it prevents them from ‘going back to see’.

From all this, I look for my lesson learned… it’s that I’m amazed at the things that ‘almost killed me, destroyed me, hurt me’… I forgive people for. Those things that devastated me at one time or other in my life… no longer seem important.

I’ve let go a long time ago. I’m so glad… I don’t have ‘to grow old’ with ‘pure hate’ in my heart. It’s my nature to ‘hate, be angry’… it was ‘born in me’. But… somehow, I’ve escaped ‘that part of me’… I’m not like that at all… ‘even if I appear’ to be that way.

Of course, there are some people I’m never going to like… even the best person in the world… has ‘those people’. The main thing here is… to treat them with respect… be nice, get away from them as soon as possible. You don’t want them in your life, they aren’t ‘nice’ people. Don’t waste time with them… you know how they are.

Sitting there, at my aunt’s house, I fought the desire to just get up, leave. Drive back home, hide myself. I wasn’t strong enough for the world … yet. I didn’t know ‘my own family’ would become my enemy on my father’s side of the family. You wouldn’t believe… I didn’t. How sad I am when I think about all that… transpired. All I learned…

I will give them the credit they deserve for that day. They won… they succeeded in making me feel so little. I wasn’t the strong, beautiful young woman they remembered seeing. I sure didn’t appear to be ‘rich’, anymore. I know some of them were …glad.

You know… jealousy. Women are like that naturally… think about it… you might not let others know it… but, naturally if you are a woman, there’s someone you are jealous of… envy. Females… it’s a female ‘thing’.

I won’t even argue this with anyone… females are like this, no matter… how they hide it. Life is like that… and that’s the way it is. That’s right……

They had never seen me wearing such clothes as an adult. Hell, I probably didn’t know what I had on… myself. All I could think about was my grandmother had died… I loved her very much. I hadn’t long been at the door… that she entered, and I … ran away from. Death’s door… my grandmother was 100 years old.

I told you… you wouldn’t believe how bad I looked… imagine someone you love, coming back from death’s door… the only thing pretty about them is ‘that smile in their eyes’, the smile that says, ‘I’m so glad to be here, I made it, I’m glad to see you’!

Fighting spirit, I do have. I have more fighting spirit than… I have anything else. I was taught that well as a child. No one wanted me, on either side of my family. It’s made me feel the same way as an adult. I don’t really ‘want’ anyone that’s ‘family’… that’s a good way of staying in turmoil. I’m too private for that.

I only have a very few people in my life now… that I want. I learned my lesson well… strange enough, it took almost this long… to learn this particular lesson. Thank God, I have. I can’t bear the pain of loving so many people … I’ve been taught ‘over and over, and over’ how it feels to ‘lose everyone I truly loved’.

The pain, oh my God… the pure, pure pain of grieving. If you never experienced it ‘over and over’… there’s no way … you can understand. Especially when it seems in life… the only people dying are the ‘most important loved ones’ you ever had.

‘Now’… I want to be friends with everyone… but, I never want to be ‘close’ to anyone in my private life… never, never… never. If you get gone tomorrow… I’ve got to be ‘far enough back from loving you, as I can’… I can’t bear the pain… the knowledge that you… are gone.

Truthfully, even the distance I put there… doesn’t buffer the pain I feel in my heart. I love people who don’t love me back. When I say that… I can honestly say… it doesn’t matter. I don’t need their love… I just need how I feel inside… it feel right.

I hate people that I love… I don’t love people that I like. I was taught that as a little girl. It’s natural for me, but… probably not for you. You probably had the perfect childhood. I’m glad for you… you probably didn’t have to learn lessons the hard way… making your life more rewarding, easier… happier. It took me … longer to get here. :)))

The positive thing is… I turned out to be a ‘good’ person, too. Even if you don’t like me… or even if… you think ‘you’ are better. It doesn’t matter to ‘me’… life isn’t about wasting it on being liked by the wrong people. Life is about real things…

My fighting spirit makes some people like me, or not like me. Why?Because, they see a very sweet person in front of them… and you know how it is… eventually there are going to be the ones… who want to take advantage of a good person.

Their thinking is that … ‘hey , she’s too nice to be mean’. How many times have I encountered that in my life? People have even said after ‘trying to take advantage of me… pushed me too far’…. ‘but, I thought you were a nice person’!

They learned quickly… even a nice, good person …has limits. To be ‘good, nice’… doesn’t mean you have to do what ‘bad’ people want… or fall down on the ground and say… ‘walk on me’.

When I say ‘I don’t like ‘you’… I promise ‘you’ …. there’s good reason. If I don’t speak to you first, when meeting you… you can bet your ‘ass’ that you’ve done something negative to affect my life… and for the ‘time-being’… I DON’T like you. To get me to speak to you… you have to speak first. I might warm up to you… I might not. Depends…

Each person has power… no matter who we are. No matter if people appear to not care… they do. Doesn’t matter who you are… it does matter. Even the ‘lowest person on earth’ can make a person feel better… with just a nod, a wink… movement of their hand.. a tiny smile from their eyes… or mouth. Do you know the power you have as a person?



Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust; I Have To Remember Because… I Must

Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust; I Have To Remember Because… I Must (What 9-11 Means To Me)

Ashes To Ashes… Dust To Dust;  I Have To Remember Because… I Must            (What 9-11 Means To Me)
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

The Pups have eaten breakfast from their clean, stainless-steel bowls.  Kissy grabbed his milk bone from the treat bowl I put out for each of them.  He is laying on the carpet, chewing it… making a little crumbly mess.  I’ll vacuum it up in a little while… the main thing is that he enjoys it… that’s what treats are for.

Each Pup has 2 stainless-steel bowls that are washed before they have breakfast, and before their evening meal.  The first ‘big’ bowl is for their meal… the 2nd ‘smaller’  bowl is for a little extra dry food, and several treats.  The treats are usually a chew stick, and milk bones.  I put 2-3 treats there to last throughout the day.

I’m writing about the Pups… our Precious Pups… Kissy, Chadwick, and little Camie.  Little Camie is our little puppy I rescued… have been nursing back to health.  It’s a story all its own… that’s the new book I’m writing at present… Camie’s Angel.

Many people have befriended Camie on her Facebook page.  The link is:  https://facebook.com/camocameobates .  She has her own Followers, also.  They will know, recognize alot in my book about Camie.

I am writing about our Pups… only for this moment.  I am sitting here with such grief in my Heart.  No one looking at me would know how heavy… my heart is this morning.  I’ve been like this for several days… knowing how much the 9-11 events affects me.

I feel I could lay on the ground, and turn into pure tears… a long, flowing river of tears for the death, destruction of 9-11.  It breaks my heart… it hurts me to my very soul.  I could scream as loud as it would wrap around this world like a comforting blanket… the pain, the pain.  I can’t take this pain away for anyone.  I hurt for the thousands of people directly affected that day.

My tears flow down my cheeks, so much that my skin burns at this moment.  I just watched about the dogs that played such an important role in the 9-11 events… not only were they used for searching for survivors, the deceased.

They brought comfort to people who would begin smiling when they saw these dogs… they got comfort when they stopped for a moment to reach out… pet them.  My heart cries for the beauty of it… in such horrific circumstances.

I see all the destruction around … in the middle of it, a fireman squats to pet one of the dogs, smiles though his heart and mind are seeing things… no one should ever see.

I sit here watching the 9-11 documentaries… I cry inside.  You can’t hear me, but… somewhere on a different frequency… something’s bound to.  The emotion…

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… comes to my mind.  What’s so strange is the very morning it happened… I was standing in front of the tv as I began to become aware of what was happening.  I couldn’t see through swollen eyes, hear for a numb mind… I had to peer closer in order to hear, see….

See, I was already in the most horrible shock of my life.  My mother had died on September 09, 2001, on a Sunday.  We had come home from Raleigh, NC.  We’d been shopping, and a strange thing happened while we were in Sam’s Club that Sunday.

My attention was caught by a beautiful ‘jar’ with a lid.  It was blue, and white… the design elegant.  Out of the blue… it came to my mind, it looks like an urn.  I blocked that thought out of my mind, put it in the shopping cart.  I wanted it to put on the counter; inside were Biscotti biscuits to enjoy with a cup of coffee.

We got home that evening… I walked past the telephone.  I saw the red light blinking, indicating there were messages to be heard.  I waited to put our purchases in place… the Biscotti jar on the counter.  ‘Urn’… came to my mind once again.  ‘Urn’….. I felt a little unease.  I went on to ignore the thought ‘urn’…

A little later, I was standing by the telephone in ‘pure shock’ at what I’d just heard.  I cried out for Skip… he didn’t hear me.  The shock had taken my voice down to a whisper.  Skip!  Skip!  Skip!  Please come, Skip!

He heard me, rushed into the room to me.  He saw my face, knew instantly something was very wrong.  I knew it was, too… but, I… didn’t know what.

I had pressed the button to play the messages… and the room filled with a sound that sounded as if it came from another world.  I recognized the sound as… being my mother’s voice… only I had never-ever heard her voice sound like that.  Mama!

The sound was bone-chilling.  It was a ‘keening’ sound that at first, I just couldn’t understand what it was.  The tone, the sound…. Mama!

I began pressing the button over, over… I could hear her trying to scream out, “Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, please help me-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”!  I won’t go any farther here… I can’t.  I still have that cassette… I have hidden it from myself.  The pain …. I can’t bear the pain of listening.

When time went by, I connected dots… and there were things ‘not right’ about her death.  I won’t write about that … ever.  People have died… people are still living… they ‘know’.

Before I could call my Mom… the phone rang.  It was someone we thought of as a real friend… only to find out later… he never was from the beginning.

Secrets…. so, many secrets… walls… people who pretended to be other… than what they were.

Deceitful, lying… but, always smiling, kind, wonderful.  ‘GOOD’ people…….. when your back turns… a ‘whole other life is being played out’.  Walls… walls, I was never allowed to find the door to… to ‘see’.

Pain here… I’ve ‘come to a wall’ … I’m standing here mentally beating my head against it.  Let go, let go…. I ‘have seen’ on the other side through others’ actions, things they said… reactions… do you know, I really didn’t want to see.  Riddles, only more riddles for a story I … can’t tell.

He told me my mother died that evening… Skip!  Skip!  Skip!  Please help me, Skip!  Please help me!  September 09, 2001… Sunday evening….

A person dies on a Sunday evening… by Wednesday evening all her things are removed from the house.. her clothes taken out of the closet… they hung on one side of her husband’s clothes.

On the other side… only ‘the color purple’ … remained; hanging by his clothes.  ‘The Color Purple‘… the strange thing is… I still love the color… purple.

THOUGHTS… expressions on different people’s faces as they stood out on the front deck… frozen in shock… blood drops on a white Avon headband… the house was cleaned hurriedly… Mom’s things from beside her recliner moved, stuffed back… a whisper in my ear to get Mom’s handbag… I ask permission first from her husband.  Hearing the words from someone I loved, saying: ‘she’s dead, ain’t she, goddamn it’!  Deeper shock… I can’t function.  Did I really hear that …from…?  The list goes on, just as ‘jumbled up’ as the words in this paragraph… something’s wrong here.  Can’t think now… Mama!  “Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!  Help-ppppp me-eeeeeeeee, Faye-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I can’t take this!  I’m going to die, my mama’s gone.  Mama!  Help me, Skip!  Help me!  I can’t bear this!  Hope for a moment, a phone rung… ‘she’s dead, ain’t she, goddamn it’!  I’m hopelessly lost once again… in darkness.

For the three years, until after my mother’s death, I had been battling cancer… non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  I had lived in darkness with the fear of dying… going through so many treatments, chemotherapy, tests, scans… my life was almost living at a hospital…

Not only that, more darkness came as I began to win my battle… Skip was diagnosed with colon cancer… he began going through his battle… still going through it when I learned my mother had died.

No end to the darkness… one thing after another.  I learned my favorite aunt, my father’s youngest sister… had died.  She died when if I’d been told, I’d never understood… I was so sick, myself.

A step-mother constantly calling… never calling before in my life… to monitor me… through Skip.  He was innocent of her motives… she won by telling my Grandmother… that I was dying.  That took care of my inheritance … my aunt had died… she couldn’t keep her promise of making sure… the doors were left open… and a wicked stepmother ‘stepped in’… smiling.

Ironically… after I got better… Skip got better… she began to get very sick.  She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong… we did go see her… took her out to eat at Golden Corral… she couldn’t eat even one bite.  Looking at her… she was so thin.

We suspected she had cancer… she never would tell us.  Being respectful… we didn’t pry in her life.  We never did… she entered our life… when we were weak.  Skip was so innocent… he thought she was genuinely concerned.  I was too sick to tell him… don’t trust that woman.

She won… I will never forget what my Grandmother told me just several months… before she died.  I’ll never forget how she looked down… my stepmother had fooled her.  No, her words will stay in my mind until the day … my last breath is drawn.

Strange enough… with all that’s happened in my life… I’ve never become bitter… I don’t hate.  I just ‘know’ what people will, can do if given the opportunity.  Think of how animals in Africa do… when another is weak… they become easy prey.  This is the thought that comes to my mind to describe.  What is the saying? Only the strong survive…

Another thought comes to my mind… a little 9 year old girl being watched as she goes too far out in the ocean… the other two little girls are stopped before ‘they go too far’.  What was the difference, all were only one year apart?  One was a step-child… insurance policy taken out at her birth… who cares, she’s not my child.  Riddles, more… riddles.

My life is full of them… you probably won’t ever hear the answer to … most of them.  You know… we all have to go to our deaths one day… and we all go with one secret, or other.  Even the person ‘who tells everything’ …will die with an untold secret.  Who would believe them, anyway… some are very hard to believe ever… happened.  I know…

Death… so much death in my life.  Grief… I’ve known such grief in my life.  I don’t feel sorry for myself… I don’t wallow in self-pity.  I smile… I go on.  You don’t have to be touched by my pain… I don’t share it with you.  It’s private… I don’t talk about it to you.

I ‘come here to write my pain’.  I make it into stories… if ‘you’ read it… you ‘choose to take your time’ to read it.  You can walk away, no excuses to leave… they are only words.

If you feel something… it’s because you let yourself do so.  If you do, you only feel ‘a small fraction’ of the pain inside me.  Aren’t you so glad… it isn’t you?  I am.  I’m strong… I’ve made it this far… everything is going to be alright.  I ‘know now’… that’s why I grew up in ‘Hell’… it was to prepare myself to ‘walk out of it’ on the paths I traveled in life… I made it when I thought … I wouldn’t.

What I’m looking forward to … now… are the good things in life.  It’s time, and I ‘feel’ that.  Time for both Skip and I, to know peace… and have a good life.  Skip is more deserving than I… he has worked the hardest of any man I’ve known… he has been stressed more than any man I’ve ever known.  It’s time for life to be good for him… he is truly deserving.  Skip is a truly good person.

I am meaner than Skip.  :)))  He is more kind than I.  He has more patience than I do.  I care as much as he does… but, I’m just meaner.  No matter how good I am, try to be… I’m still ‘meaner’.

I’m the one who has ‘hell burn inside me’… it was already burning when I was born.  Life events made it burn more, burn less.  I’ve tried to turn that ‘hell’ into a ‘fireplace’… one that will keep my heart warm, loving, caring.

I still feel ‘mean’, sometimes.  It’s a battle I will fight until the day I die.  I don’t want to be mean, I love being a good person.  When I say ‘mean’ … I don’t mean ‘hard-core’ mean.

I mean that I am sometimes short-tempered, I anger quickly.  I really try hard not to… it doesn’t make me feel good… ‘but, it’s there’.  Pain… pain in my body every remaining minute left of my life… the trade-off to live.  Pain… makes me ‘feel angry’… I never take medicine to relieve it.  Why?  I don’t want to be addicted to drugs in order to live.  I don’t want to clutter my mind, I want it to be clear.  I love to think.

Pain is the trigger that fuels the flames of anger.  I have to fight that all the time.  I could have not had these years if not for a trade-off in pain.  I love to live… I love to see the sunshine, feel the gentle breeze of the wind, feel the sand between my toes.  I love to hear birds singing, wind chimes ring… dogs bark… people talk, sing… I love the sound of water running… I ‘pure love’ life.

So… I’m going to do my best to smile through my pain… I’m sure not going to lay down and …. whine, cry, and sing ‘woe is me’.  Pain… I will fight you… and I’m going to win.  I have life to… live for.

I have written pain here of another kind… not just the physical pain.  I wrote mental pain of losing a precious person in my life.  I have a lot of regrets… there are things I wish I had done… knowledge came ‘too late’… to help my mother.

I wish during the 3 years I was so sick… my mind constantly in and out of darkness… my mind focused on just trying to get well… I wish I had been able to ‘know sooner’ what my mom was going through.  I was too sick… things happened.  I didn’t know… until too late.  Just as I began to get better… Skip was diagnosed with cancer.  Isn’t it amazing… from May 1998… through 2002… all this happened… and more?

Our home burned down, claiming all our belongings December 28, 2004.  Another death… someone I cared about… someone who dearly loved my mother… was always there for her… who also, knew her secrets… talked to me… died several days after our home burned down.  A log truck hit her head-on, killing her.  I grew up with her in Hell… she was my 1st cousin… my sister as a child.

Soon after that, Skip almost died in a big truck crash in Moriarty, New Mexico.  Several weeks after that… a bank robber almost hit him in the side of his truck… fleeing from law enforcement.  Several weeks ‘after that’…….. a woman runs a stop sign in front of Skip… he hits her.  It seemed like one shock after the other… one after the other.  I’ve known shock so many, many times.

The strange thing is… the list goes on… so many more deaths.  People ‘I truly loved’… began dying.  Skip had escaped death three times… ‘things came out of the blue… almost took him’.

Everyone knew I would have fought for my mother.  Strange… remember what I said about the animals in Africa.  They wait until there is a weakness… then, they strike.  They devour their prey with tooth, and nail.  Yes, I know… more ‘riddles’.  Life is full of riddles… and sometimes, that’s the ‘only way’ …something can be told.  Only the sharpest person could know that… and then, it’d take ‘forever’ to learn … the story… some of my stories.

The man pulled the woman out… through the smoke.  She lay there coughing, she couldn’t breathe.  Tears come into my eyes… she almost died.  She’s a survivor, she made it through the 9-11 terror attack.  Her name was Sheila Moody.  My mind has gone back to my tv… I am sitting here remembering 9-11… a lot happened that day.

A lot happened in my life just before… and afterwards.  Mine was on an ‘individual scale’… 9-11 events were on a ‘mass scale’… oh, the loss of life, it breaks my very heart… my mama died, too.  It broke my heart.

Ashes to ashes… dust to dust.  I see dust, papers ‘raining in the wind’ as they fall from the twin towers… on tv.  So much life lost, wasted… gone.  My mama was gone, too.

Hate… pure hate… came out of the blue, no one knew.  Someone had their mind focused … while others didn’t know.

Animals in Africa… strike when no one’s looking, killing their prey.  They wait until the strong… is weak, unexpecting.

See… I can’t think about just 9-11 terror attack by itself… that morning… something awful had already occurred in my life.  My mother had just died… my thoughts are all jumbled up together.  Entangled is a better word.

My mind never did register the attack on the Pentagon, and the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania.  I find that strange… my mind took in the attack on the twin towers, the World Trade Center.

While I watched it later play out on tv… my mind screamed with the pain of the terror, panic, death… the horror… the destruction… it also, screamed at the loss of my mother.  I can’t separate the two in my mind… so, entangled both became… I can never think of one without the other.  Oh, the grief… oh, the grief.

My mind is filled… with many doors.  Each door opens to a different memory.  I call this in my mind … Memory Hall.  There are more doors that open to sadness… but, there are also, those ‘good’ doors.

‘Ashes to ashes … dust to dust’… this is the one thought that says it all… we went to pick my mother’s ashes up on 9-11-2001.  All the while in my mind… I could see the ‘ashes raining down’ from the sky… from what I saw on tv, before we left to go get them.

Ashes, dust…… this memory is just that.  A thought came to my mind… when our home burned down… my mother’s ashes were ‘burned’ again.  The container holds that scar to this day… where it sits in her Rose Chest.

Today I cry inside at not only the loss of my mother; for the loss of so many people that day.  I picked my mother’s ashes up… as I watched others fall … that day.  My words can’t even describe the grief I feel inside…


I Have To Remember… Because I Must
Written By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Grief in my heart… tears in my eyes
I think even God can hear my cries

So much death that day, grief fills my heart
That’s the day… families were torn apart

I just walked down my Memory Hall
Closing these doors, I can’t bear this at all

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I have to remember, because… I must

No one should be forgotten in this event
What they went through, the day terror was sent

I don’t only cry for myself
I cry for the 9-11 families that are left

To carry their burden of grief, pain
Just as I carry mine… the same

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
I have to remember, because… I must


I Thought I Could Tell You More… But, I Just… Can’t

I Thought I Could Tell You More… But, I Just …Can’t

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




I was standing in the middle of the floor.  I couldn’t think clearly, my mind was a fog.  The pain in my heart was overwhelming.  I put my hands over my eyes, rubbed them.  I’ve got to get ready, I thought.


My eyes were swollen, my vision was blurry.  I wanted to lay back down.  I couldn’t, we had to be some place that morning.  Some place I didn’t want to go to… the last time I was there… oh my God.  I couldn’t bear to think about it anymore… but, the vision came into my mind, I couldn’t stop it.


No!  No!  No!  My mind began screaming from the pain that pushed the words from my very soul.  I could see in my mind… standing there… Tommy and I were standing there… we were the only ones … who stood there… looking down.


Fresh tears flowed freely down my face, my chest felt like it was going to explode.  I felt like I was going to faint… oh my God!  Oh my God!  Oh my God!  Mama!  No! No! No!


For a moment the tv caught my attention… I saw some buildings smoking, heard excitement in the narrator’s voice.  I stood there, vaguely wondering what kind of movie was that.  I was feeling my face, touching the wet the tears left.  I rubbed my fingertips gently under my eyes.


I stiffened… I leaned closer to the tv… I just couldn’t see clearly.  I was going into a deeper shock.  Something about the picture I was seeing on the tv screen.  I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening… but, it was sinking in through the state I was already in… something bad is happening!


I was in another world… like being outside of a glass window… it being foggy… and I was trying to look inside through the tiny places that were clear.  I was trying my best to see the picture on the tv… hear what was going on.


Slowly, it began to sink in… the twin towers were being hit by planes!  I watched, my very soul was screaming in pain for the people who were running, screaming, crying.  Their cries, their shock … I felt it through my shock, grief-stricken state.


Soon, I was crying for what was happening… though I couldn’t understand all at that moment.  I just knew it was BAD… and so, bad that it came through my grief to affect me.


We had to leave, be some place in a short while.  Skip, Tommy, and I went outside to get in the Expedition.  I wanted to lay down… I felt weak.  The weight of grief is heavier than any weight anyone has ever had to carry… I know.  I’ve never know a heavier weight to bear.


I laid my head back against the headrest.  I couldn’t bear to keep my eyes open.  They burned, physically hurt.  They hurt being closed.


We drove to Wake Forest, NC to Bright’s Funeral Home.  There, we picked up my mama’s ashes.  We picked up my mama’s ashes on the morning of … 9-11.  My mama died on 9-09.  She died four days after the first birthday of her only great-grandchild.  She had only met her great-granddaughter… once.


I won’t go into her death… it seems like I could do it after all this time.  It’s not easy tonight for some reason.  So, I won’t.  I can’t bear to think… now.  I would have to travel too far ‘inside’ … I don’t have time tonight… it’s hard to come back.  For some reason, I feel I don’t have that strength it takes… not tonight.


Tommy and I stood there… looking down at my beautiful mother. She looked to be in her late thirties… so pretty, her hair freshly washed.  An expression of pure peace lay over her face… it was soft, beautiful on her.  It was invisible… I could see through it.


I didn’t see any lines anymore… oh, mama… how beautiful you are, I thought.  My tears fell on the hand I held in mine.  I placed my hand on her face, touched it gently.


Oh, Mama… I cried inside… no sounds ever escaped from my soul… they were trapped deep in me.  That was my way… I never could cry … out loud.  The pain of crying is … too much.  I’ve known my share of tears… diamond tear drops.  If all the tears I’ve ever cried in my life were frozen into diamonds… oh my!


I stood looking at my mother.  She was swathed in a white sheet… I tried so hard not to look… but, my eyes were drawn to a … hose that led up into the sheet.  Embalming… for a moment I thought… she’s being cremated… why?


I looked up at Tommy.  Tears were falling down his face.  Tommy was like me… he hurt in silence.  If one didn’t bother to look… they’d never know.


I won’t go any farther tonight.  It’s rare I speak of this… today is September 09, 2013… my mother died September 09, 2001.


On September 11, 2001… we went back to the funeral home to pick up her ashes.  A very sad thing happened in the parking lot that day.  I won’t even go into that … at this time.  So many painful things… tonight, I’m not strong enough to talk about them.  I thought I was………


I thought I could tell you more… but, I just… can’t.



People May Be ‘Who You’… Hope Them To Be (You Know I’m Right)

People May Be ‘Who You’… Hope Them To Be (You Know I’m Right)…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



I don’t know if I’ll be living tomorrow.  I’m going to eat everything I want ‘today’… just in case.  Years ago, we were out with my cousin, and her husband … we went to eat supper together.


She got a little extra on her plate… she was very hungry.  She’d been dieting.  Her husband took half of her food off her plate, transferred it to his plate.  He told her ‘you don’t need that food’… and he sat there, ate it as if he did.


He, and his big, fat belly sat there… enjoyed that good food his wife didn’t need.  I looked at her face… it was red, embarrassed.  Tears sprang into her eyes… I wanted to cry for her.   Suppose it was her last meal?


It wasn’t her last meal… but… close to it.  Not long after that, she was killed in a head-on crash.  When I look at her husband today… I hear his voice in my head… ‘you don’t need that food’.  I see him in my mind, ‘eating it like he did’.  His fat, little belly moved up, down as he ate it quickly, swallowed it.  He never glanced at her to see the pain he caused.  He ‘needed her food’, more.


He never knew the impression he made on me… us.  It will never leave.  Come to think of it… ‘be damn’ if he doesn’t remind of one of those ‘damn’ little flesh-colored, fat-bellied kiddiddlehoppers!  I never thought about it until this moment!


I don’t have an excuse for the weight I’ve gained.  I can only say in my defense that life, and what it’s brought to me… contributed to it.  I’ve been hurt many times by the loss of everyone I love, the many things life has hurled at me.  But… that’s okay ‘now’… I made it through.


I’m here… stronger for it.  I’ve learned so much in life… I’m the most grateful person you’ll ever meet.  I care with my heart… and now, I’m big enough to put my pride aside… say so.  Love, caring, giving… being grateful for everything.


Not only that… if I could right every wrong I’ve done in life, no matter how big or small… I would.  There are things we can’t go back to change, no matter what.  I wish…


I’ve been in shock many times through the years… and I’ve lived in a lot of darkness… the worst being when Tommy died.  Being overweight is an emotional issue… a deep one.  It doesn’t matter… it doesn’t define who I am.  I’m like a yo-you…. my weight fluctuates constantly.  That’s a ‘good’ thing… I never forget how ‘both sides feel’.  :)))


I’ve been ‘lost’ so many times in life… it’s been hard to find my way back.  When eventually I have… I ‘woke up to life’ once again.  I would do healthy things… felt good, lost weight.  Before I knew it… something else in life ‘knocked me back on my ass’.  I would go through the process of ‘getting up, dusting my pants off’… ‘to try it again’.  To… live again.


In my life, many ‘bad things’ have happened… normally people only experience maybe a couple or three things in their whole life.  They live, go on and life’s good for them.  It hasn’t been like that for me.  But… mind you… I don’t complain, though I write about it.  I’m grateful to get to live… it means the world to me.  :)))


My life, my experiences have become my stories to tell… my colors of my life.  I write what’s on my mind… what I think… what I don’t think about.  My words are mind, no one else’s.  I don’t write anyone’s life story, but… mine.  If you happen to be in it… you touched my life… one way or other.


I’ve lived through losing more than 20 family members on both sides of my family.  These weren’t ‘just any family members’… they ‘were the very ones I loved with my very heart’.  Then… I lost my only child, Tommy, my son….. that was worse that anything ever in my life.  I am still recovering… I still can’t believe it.  I can get very upset quickly… if I allow myself to think of him very long.  I have to be careful… it takes time to get back alright.


If you’ve never lost a child, you aren’t going to understand… also, if you want to tell me he’s in ‘a better place’… I’ll tell you, ‘no, he’s not’.  He wanted to live just like you do… unless you are one of those people who just can’t ‘wait to go to a better place’.  I say, ‘more power to you’.  Simple as that….. I felt anger… can you tell?  I hope no one else says that to me ever again…


So, if you’ve never lost a child… I hope you’ll understand you can’t just go say things like that.  A lot of people who have lost children might begin screaming at you.  I can ‘feel why’… I instantly hate you.  I don’t forget you.  I won’t yell at you… though, if I need to… I will softly tell you how I feel… and I’ll smile a sweet little smile, so… you won’t feel bad.  You might not want to look into my eyes… at hell’s fire burning there.  Skip said he’s never seen anyone’s eyes do like mine when they become angry… this would be what he meant.


I’m a loving, caring person… don’t make light of my son’s death … with your thoughtless sayings.  It shows you don’t have anything else to say… don’t say anything if it means nothing to you.  Say I care, if it does… and go on with your life.  I don’t need your sayings, I have enough of my own… even if I get part of them backwards.


I have fought a battle with cancer… non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  How, why, what caused it… to this day I still don’t know.  Chemicals, big electrical wires, pesticides… who knows?  It was a life-threatening battle that almost took my life.  I fought for three years to live… I lived, knowing ‘I was going to die’.


The thoughts come through my mind, I wonder ‘how’ I came to have this type of cancer.  I wonder sometimes, if it was from the pesticides that ran down on our land, from the land ‘above’ ours… in the North Carolina mountains when I lived there for years.  We had spring water as our water source.  I was a young wife, mother at that time.  I wasn’t aware of what chemicals could do, and such.


When I became very ill, I ‘went down’ fast.  In just a matter of weeks, I was dying… barely living the morning I had surgery. I could only whisper to Skip.  Tommy was in Germany… I wouldn’t allow Skip to tell him.  I was afraid something could happen to him if he knew… he would have died, if necessary to get to his mama.


I lived in darkness… I ‘lost myself’ once again.  Skip was there… Skip was always there… Skip ‘IS’ my beacon in life.  He is like that lighthouse shining at nights to guide ships… I can say this… if Skip hadn’t been there for me… I would have died.


I say that with all sincerity.  If Skip wasn’t there, I wouldn’t be here.  I had no family who cared about me.  If I had drank alcohol, took drugs, bitched… raised hell, got into all kinds of trouble… they would have loved me with their very hearts.  Being different created an ‘invisible’ wall.  I never could find the door in it… I really tried.  I tried so hard… I loved them with… my heart.  Isn’t it amazing … if only I could have been ‘truly bad’… I’d been looked up to, idolized, loved… I’d been somebody.  Oh, just how come I couldn’t have just been ‘bad to the bone’?


It’s a wonder I didn’t turn out to be a really bad ‘mama-jamma’… I walked on those paths… I do have quite a temper.  It wasn’t in me.  I’m not a mean, bad person.  I would walk on those paths in life full of anger at the things life threw at me… I walked them in hate ‘for the world’.  I never wanted to hurt anyone else for the pain inside me.


I never could find it inside myself to hurt anyone.  I was a ‘square’ in a round hole.  I couldn’t walk the path… and ‘talk the talk’… I just couldn’t.  When I was angry… I thought I could.  I always had a conscience.


‘Damn’, I couldn’t even drink alcohol… it would depress me… I couldn’t take it.  I couldn’t do drugs… I can’t bear my mind to be ‘messed up’… I have to be able to think clearly.  I did smoke cigarettes for a time, but… when I quit, I never did it again.


I always thought about things… being a ‘thinker’… helped me to realize that I didn’t want ‘bad things’ in my life…  I realized I did have the choice to go in the opposite direction… I did.  I read books all the time… I wrote all the time… I tried to better myself as a person… I learned all the time about life.  I just wanted to be ‘me’… a good person.


When I say good person… I don’t mean I’m perfect.  I hope you’ll know that I’m not perfect at all.  I mean just be a good person in general… that people trust that I am.  I can get angry, lose my temper like the next person… I can say a cuss word, too.  I think everyone does that.  It’s part of being human…


As soon as I do such, I’m sorry instantly.  I don’t like being ‘mean’… but, I am sometimes.  I have a lot of anger in me… I was born with anger in me… just like the ‘hell born in me’.  I can raise hell with the best… but, it’s not ‘me’… I can’t stand it.  But… I ‘know’ it, I ‘know how’…… If ‘I raise hell’… I have been provoked… probably for the 3rd time.


I began to learn that life wasn’t as glamorous… as glittery, full of material things.  I had had it ‘all’… but, was soon finding out… I couldn’t ‘be a good person’ like I wanted to be… and live that life… too.  I … couldn’t have my cake, eat it… too.  You’ve got to be a good person for-real… you can’t be a really good person, and a really bad person at the same time… you can’t.


You ‘can be bad enough’… if you need to be, though.  That’s where people who try to take advantage of you think you are weak … they underestimate what they find, instead.  I know… I’ve shocked a lot of people when they see I ‘do have steel’ in my backbone.  People misjudge a quiet, unassuming person who is nice…


I would let people get by ‘with pushing me’ two times, hoping they’d realize to not bother me.  Three… three, is my number with most things in life.  The third time is when… things happen.  ‘Those’ people never liked me ever again… they saw ‘the hell born in me’… come out.  I always tried to be nice when it happens… I don’t like to hurt people… I always try …to smile, too.  Even a puppy is going to come out of a corner, if he feels trapped.


People don’t like you when you ‘see’ through them.  I’m sure many of you have opened your eyes, have seen things you didn’t want to see… maybe went on to close your eyes back up… pretend you never saw.


Maybe you ‘saw’ someone for the person they really were…. ‘there’s just a split moment’ where you make a decision… you ‘let them see you ‘see’ them’… or ‘close’ your eyes, look away.  If you want to keep them as your friend… you’d better close your eyes, look away.  If you let them see that you ‘see them the way they really are’… you are going to become the ‘bad’ person.  You are going to be the culprit… you are no good.  How are you going to prove you aren’t?


People aren’t what they always appear to be.  For example… as a young, naive girl I used to think the world of an older man who was father to my best friend.  What a kind, good grandfatherly-like man he was.  He had the bluest eyes, the most kind smile in the world that made me feel like everything was alright.


From the childhood I came from… that meant a lot to me.  To be treated in a kind way, spoken to in a kind voice.  I’ll never forget the shock that man put me in… it was so surreal, I walked around for several days reeling from it all.


I was getting to spend the night with his daughter, my best friend.  We were all three sitting in the living room laughing, talking.  She got up to go to the bathroom… I was sitting on one end of the couch, he on the other end.


I was sitting there, relaxed.  I waited for her to come back, I felt shy being alone… I didn’t know what to say to her dad when she wasn’t around.  So, like a little dummy… I just sat there, looking down at the floor.


Strong, man-arms grabbed me, pulled me toward his chest.  He began trying to kiss me, his nasty lips touching mine!  I began to fight him… I didn’t survive to that age ‘for nothing’.  He saw a little fifteen year old girl, who had blossomed into a beautiful, young lady… who appeared fragile.  What he didn’t see was… the hell that was in her, born in her…. burned in her.


I know I hurt that man when I began to fight to get out of his strong arms.  I hope I did hurt him bad… I never spoke to him after that.  In fact, if I ever saw him again… I don’t remember it.  He made hell burn in me that day… he sparked those flames of pure fear, pure hell in me.  I hope I ‘burned’ him good.


Not only that… he made me cry.  I loved him, respected him… I never-ever knew ‘he’ would do that.  I was so innocent… and I believed he was a good man.  I didn’t just cry… I cried like a little baby… it hurt my heart.  For a time, I even told myself ‘somehow, it was my fault’… but, how… I didn’t know.


Learning people aren’t always what they seem to be…. so many times by that age, I had learned that I couldn’t trust anyone… especially a man.


Hands… hands always sneaking out to … touch me. The shocks I suffered… not knowing ‘what in the world’ when a hand appeared, trying to touch me……. imagine how a very little girl would feel.


She wouldn’t know what was happening, especially seeing a smiling, kind face she already trusted… not understanding ‘why the hands were doing what they did… and the smiling, kind face’ looking down at her’… not knowing she was too young to know anything.


If someone stood watching, they would probably have seen the expression of puzzlement on a little girl’s face… but, instead of waiting to see the expression… somebody’s ‘ass would have been beaten’.  If it were my child… I’m sure I’d turned into a ‘for-real bad person’… the man probably wouldn’t have lived.


I look back at these things sometimes… I don’t hurt from them anymore… I think to myself… all those ‘bad’ things in my young life … prepared me to be strong enough to ‘find it in me’ to even be here… today.


People aren’t what they seem to be.  How many kind, sweet, wonderful faces have I seen in my life… only to see the masks come off… to see what was hiding under them?  When others came close… the kind, sweet, wonderful face…the mask went back on.


I knew I couldn’t just walk over, pull the mask down for all to see… it wasn’t like on Jerry Springer… where one could physically pull another woman’s wig off to show her ‘bad hair’.


You can’t pull a kind, sweet, wonderful face off… if you did, people would condemn ‘you’ for being… so bad.  I never told anyone the things that happened to me… I learned my lesson the one time I told… I didn’t tell again.


No, people aren’t who they seem to be.  Sometimes, grandpas aren’t grandpas… especially when they are step-grandpas.  I learned that as a very young child… when I learned ‘my father’ wasn’t my father after all.  I went by his name… he never touched me in a ‘bad’ way… but, he did touch me in a bad way… he would hold me by my ankles, and beat me.  I never knew ‘why’. I was just a little girl under the age of six.  Did he do it to… hurt my mother?  He beat her lots of times… she was beautiful… men loved her.


His daddy, my step-grandfather… lived there… his daddy did ‘bad’ things……. but, who ever knew?  I didn’t know how to tell on him… in front of everyone, he was so sweet to me.  I’d forget, I didn’t have words to tell… anyway.  But… I had memory.


I have a lot of memories before I grew old enough to know the words to.  It was like ‘connecting the dots’… as I learned words, I knew the name for ‘stuff’… it took longer to understand what the ‘words for stuff’ … meant.  I had to be married, and older… to know.


I see ‘why’ people kill children when they do the things they do to them.  These must be the people who ‘know about memory, memories’… they must have been aware that children will one day learn to put in words what was done to them.


Maybe that’s why… some people do things… to children very, very small.  They don’t think a little child would remember.  I have to say to this… when things are different in a little child’s life to hurt, or to feel different… the child might not realize what happens to it.  But, it’s when ‘impressions’ are made in a child’s mind… that becomes a memory never forgotten.  Maybe … I should have been murdered as a little girl… I remembered a lot, faces… but, I never told.


For instance, another example… when I was thirteen, fourteen… one of my mother’s friends had a boyfriend.  She lived with him, so… I had seen him around, knew who he was.


I ran away from my Grandma Alma, and George’s.  The hell, oh my God, the hell-raising got to me.  I wanted to run away… or just die.  I chose to run away… I got as far as Durham, NC.  I was afraid, I didn’t know where to go.


A car stopped to pick me up… a familiar face!  It was the boyfriend of my mom’s friend!  I got into the car, I was so glad to be near someone who ‘was part of my life’.


Looking back now… I’m grateful it was ‘him’ who picked me up.  It could have… it could have been a lot of things… I might not be here, today.   The man ‘did try’ to touch me… I’ll give him credit, he left me alone when he realized I didn’t know, didn’t want ‘that’.  I never told on him… he never told he saw me.  I never saw him again… until I was a young woman in my late twenties.


Our eyes met when I walked into a restaurant where I was known.  Everyone was greeting me, I felt good… I looked beautiful, and I knew it.  Every woman knows when she looks good, her eyes will scan the room to see if men are noticing… you know it’s true.  :))) I was no exception.


My eyes met a man’s eyes… he was looking at me.  I stood for a moment… I placed him.  It was the man who picked me up when I was a runaway.  I didn’t feel anything toward him… I smiled briefly, turned away… went on with my life.  We ‘knew’ who each other was.  I thought to myself… thank-God, he was the man who picked me up…


This morning I was thinking about things… how people fool one another.  It’s a part of life… if we really knew, or really faced up to the truth of how some of our most respected, ‘good’ people really were… they’d be in prison, or forever shunned.  But… you know… we have to close our eyes… life is life… it is what it is… we can’t always be truthful about what we see… know.  Keep your mouth shut.  You know… I’m right.


I was thinking of people who think they hide behind wealth, their worldly goods… feel protected.  They go to church every Wednesday night, every Sunday morning… every Sunday night.  They are perfect people… everyone trusts them.  Sometimes… little girls know more about a woman’s husband… than she, herself… knows.


If you don’t believe me… watch those young girls… the husbands.  If you open your eyes… there’s another ‘world’ playing out in front of you.  It’s all hidden in the word of the Bible, beautiful clothes, and people with good reputations… they are all good citizens of the community.  You … know… I’m … right.


You’ve probably ‘been there, done that’, too.  The more ‘those christians smile’.. the more everything is going their way.  Do I sound cynical?  I am… I always look where no one else looks… I know there’s another ‘life playing out behind the scenes’.


It does seem our world is all about … sex.  It is… sex, drugs, money.  Whether you like it… or I like it… that’s the way it is.  I learned long ago, that’s what rules this world we live in.


On the other hand… I, also, know there’s a place for good people.  They just aren’t noticed as much… they aren’t always trying to be ‘out front screaming look at me’!  They are just focusing on doing good things, being a good person.  They don’t feel the need to brag, to have better than others, to be dressed best.  They’ve learned that the things we all seek in life are … on the inside of each of us.


Think about it… if all of us loved, cared, gave from our very hearts… how do you think the whole world would be?  That’s saying ‘all of us’, together … loving, caring, giving to the other in all sincerity.


How in the world could ‘hell be raised’, then?  If we all focused on that, we wouldn’t worry about ‘opening our eyes’ seeing something we don’t want to see… Sadly, this is something we don’t have to worry about… I don’t see how the ‘whole world’ could ever be as ‘one’….a caring, loving, giving world.


It’s all about greed, comfort… self.  Ones self… one’s creature comforts… sex, drugs, money to ensure they live in comfort, every need …satisfied.  All the while… they appear to be ‘good’ people, good, solid citizens of the community, good neighbors.


Just remember… people aren’t always ‘who you’ think they are?  They may be ‘who you’ hope them to be… you know I’m right.





You Had Better Act Like Somebody…

You Had Better Act Like Somebody…

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Going out into the world daily, I see some of the nicest people in the world.  I know there’s not a mean bone in their body.  I see such warm smiles, kind words… actions even nicer than their smiles, words.  They‘d never hurt a ‘flea’.  Everyone ‘acts so nice’!

There’s no way possible… they are ever mean, ugly… real.  They are like that… all the time.  Those good, sweet, kind, perfect… wonderful people.  I wish I could be … like that.  I am just… me.  I can be so nice… sometimes, I’m not feeling like being nice.  Darn it… it’s hard to be something… I’m not.

That’s ‘why’ I’m the first person to tell you … I’m not perfect… I’m just not perfect at all.  The only thing I have going for me is… I really try to be a good person… the best person I can possibly be… all the while making mistakes, learning to the day that I … die.

Doors are opened for others… ‘let me get that for you’.  Why just yesterday… Skip ran into a situation that… wasn’t acting.  The man was … really ‘himself’… without a mask.

Skip was at a store, getting ready to walk outside.  A guy in front of him walked out the door, as Skip began through the door… the door slammed on him, knocking his drink out of his hand.

The man in front of him …never bothered to hold the door out of courtesy… for just a second until… Skip could also, make his exit.  Skip made a sound… the man turned around, told Skip he was in a hurry, went on about his life.

The man never acted like he was a nice guy… he was really what he was… he didn’t pretend.  He didn’t care if anyone saw him for the real person he was.  He was a … turd.  Yes, he was a… turd.  Shame on him.

Most people are like this… but, in public we try to hide it… we try to project ourselves as the ‘nicest person in the world’.  That man must have given up … pretending.  Even if we don’t feel nice… we should pretend we are.  I’m not saying to the extent… someone would take advantage of us.

I’m glad I wasn’t there… I would have smiled at him, softly told him what he was.  I would have been nice about it.  Guess what?  I would have my ‘sweet, nice mask’ on.  I would be acting… nice, when in fact… I would be just before being… ugly.

I can say this too, in all honesty.  That man didn’t know he could have gotten his ass kicked… all he saw was an older man coming behind him.  He probably intended for that door to hit Skip.  Skip could have reminded him of something he didn’t like in his own life.  Maybe his ‘old daddy’… or old grandfather he hated.  Maybe …he hated his ‘old ass’ …self.

I think people make a mistake when they ‘see older people, assume they are ‘weak’.  I think they make a mistake… when they make this mistake.  Knowledge, experience ‘got that older person this far’……

Haven’t you heard on the news how criminals sometimes, meet more than their match when they rob ‘an old grandma’… go to beat up ‘an old man’.  They get their ass kicked… and some more.  I love it.

My advice is… you never know what you’re going up against… someone might be ‘old’… but, it’s knowledge, experience that counts.  You might get more than you bargain for.

Some ‘old’ people know how to fight back… you don’t know what you’re messing with.  Some of these ‘old codgers’ might know martial arts; they might be veterans… who fought for your ‘little boy or little girl ass’ when you were a child … for your freedom.

Then… some of you grew up to ‘rob them, murder them’… after they fought for the world you live in.  Yeah… they fought for ‘your freedom’… just so you could murder, rob, or humiliate ‘them’ one day when they are ‘old’.  Shameful…  You ‘act like’ you care, love, respect them… all the while… waiting for them to become weak.

Sometimes, it gets into some younger people’s minds… ‘older people don’t need what they have anymore… they are old; they could die any day’.  I need it… I can do a lot with their things to make my life better.

They begin to plot, to plan, to slowly ‘take’… by ‘acting’ like they’re somebody.  It could be a lover, girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, daughter, son, grandchild… a ‘loving one’.  It’s easier to take what you want… if you …act like somebody.

Strange enough… others can ‘see’ it.  The person who is ‘old’ doesn’t see it… they just want to be loved, cared about.  They want to believe in someone who is ‘acting like somebody’ they know… loves them.

I think you, like me… love it when an ‘old’ person gives somebody ‘bad’… what for.  I love it when an ‘old’ person’s eyes ‘open’… and they begin to see through others… see that the people who ‘acted like they loved them’… are deceitful, dishonest.

Especially when in life they… ‘use their position in life’… to deceive to take from an older person.  This could be a pastor, a fireman, cop, christian… whoever.  I love it… when ‘their acting’ can be … seen through; they are no longer trusted; no longer ‘well-thought’ of.

I love it when an old person kicks somebody’s ass… when they come up to physically assault, rob, murder them.  I love it when I see evidence of ‘their ass getting kicked’.  I love it when ‘they get it good’…

Acting… it seems that ‘acting’ is what makes the world go ’round.  If we act like somebody… we gain in life.  Just depends on what, who you act like to gain trust, material things.  We’ve all been guilty in one way or other.

We’ve all acted to be ‘somebody, something in this life in order to be accepted’… pretending the whole way.  That’s ‘how doors are opened’ to us.  How many ‘real people’ do you …know?  Sometimes… we hate the people ‘who know us as we really are’………..

So, think about what I wrote above… acting to deceive a person into thinking someone loves them… when there’s no love there… only …greed.  I know a lot of people like this… I recognize them if I don’t know them.  Don’t you?  I know you do.

I think this is one of the most awful things we can do… unless the one who ‘acts’… acts it all out in a ‘good’ way, never hurting, harming another.  How many times does that happen?

How many times a day do you smile, be so honey-sweet to people when you would like to tell them what you really think?  You have to if you are going to be out in the world… you are… going to have to act.  You are going to … have to pretend you are something… you really aren’t.  Do you know why?

Because, you’ll be shunned… people will go in an opposite direction when they see you coming… if you don’t ‘act right’.  Watch people’s expressions when they ‘see you’… if you sense they’re thinking ‘oh no! it’s you… again’!  You are probably sensing …right.

Even I have sensed that through time.  I don’t think there’s a person who hasn’t sensed that.  No one likes ‘you’… all the time… no matter how pretty, sweet, ‘good’… you are.  Sometimes, I like ‘mean’ people… sometimes, I like ‘ugly’ people.  Sometimes, I hate ‘everyone’… no matter ‘how they act’.  We all are like that.

I smile inside because when I see people I know… out in the world ‘acting’.  Why?  Because, you hear people say, ‘isn’t that the nicest person’?  I’m knowing probably that’s the ‘meanest man, woman that ever walked in two shoes’.

What’s funnier… really isn’t fun-ny… is when people say that about people we all hold in high esteem… and ‘we know better’.

I can look back through time… and remember ‘people who were the best christians, and even a pastor’… who chased a little girl I know personally… to do things… ‘ungodly’.

I am sure all of you can look back, remember such things in your own life.  Just because you say ‘someone is a cop, pastor, doctor, lawyer, fireman… so on, so on’… doesn’t mean they are all ‘good’.  We all have to ‘act a part’ when we go out into the world.  If not… you’ll be shunned.

There’s always a ‘bad apple’ in … everything.  Always remember that… open your eyes… and you’ll spot it no matter how ‘pretty, shiny, spotless’ it is. The better it looks… the better it hides to deceive others.  Think about a serial killer… that’s how they do to get their victims… they appear ‘perfect’ to everyone.

Nothing is perfect… I know… at one time in my life… I really tried to be; I couldn’t.  Keep an eye out for bad apples… they’re rotten to the core… don’t believe me?  Just bite into it…..

So, if you get up feeling bad, feeling as if you ‘hate the world’… you had better think twice.  In our world … you’d better ‘act like somebody’… whether you like it … or not.  Act ‘like somebody… even if … you aren’t’.

I suggest acting like a good person… even if you aren’t.  You might fool yourself into believing you’re a good person… before you know it… you might be one.  Acting, believing is how we develop habits… now, all I got to do is to ‘act thin’… that’s the habit I have forgotten.  :)))

I’m going to try my best to act like somebody… myself.  Hopefully, I can … act in a good way, be real.  I don’t like to fool people.  So, I’m going to act like somebody… Gloria.

When The Sun Went Away… I Began To Cry

When The Sun Went Away… I Began To Cry
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/Granny Gee


Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


You smiled at me… no, it was a grin

A mischievous grin… I waited for your joke

When I saw that gleam in your eyes

I knew to watch out

You were going to play a prank on ‘Ole Mom’

You both laughed, talked, joked
I waited… I knew it was coming
You couldn’t fool me… you were going to get me
Get me, you did… when I least expected it
You both laughed, and laughed

I began laughing, too
Because I’d just been pranked by my son
Whom I loved with my very heart
He did his cowardly lion laugh
That put me in hysterics, on the floor

It tickled me so good
Because he did it better than the cowardly lion
He did it with a deep tone in his voice
It began slow… picked up speed
It kept on, I laughed until I was weak

Your smile was bright as the sun
When we last sat at the picnic table
I really noticed it… it stood out to me
You said those were the best sandwiches you ever ate
I really looked at you… you said that’s right, they were

I looked into your handsome face
Lit up by a sunshine smile
How I loved you with my very heart
I’ll never forget you live
That God gave me you, my son

That was the last time I saw you
You smiled, tooted the horn
Rode down the driveway in your big, white truck
Waving at your Ole Mom
Waving at her for the last time… goodbye

I sit here, I think I’m going to cry
No, I think I’ll scream to heaven
God, why did you take my son
Why did you take him away from me
Don’t you know how much he meant to me?

The anger I feel in my heart
The more my mind screams
Screams the pain his death has caused
People walk by me, smile
I stand there angry, grieving, mad at the world

No one knows the difference
They can’t see how my heart hurts, grieves
Damn you, God
Please forgive me, I know I said that
I’m hurting now, I know I struck out

Struck out at you, God, blamed you for my pain
I think we all do that from time to time
Who am I to say who is to blame
I’ll just think how grateful I am to have known my son
He was my son, my child… my only one

I really have no choice as I stand in front of you
Smiling my quiet, sweet smile
While my heart is breaking, my mind screaming
You only see a sweet, little old woman
Looking back at you

Who listens to your problems
Feels your pain, gives her time to listen to you
You’ll never know what she feels
She’ll never share it with you in words
But… she will come here… to write her pain

Soon… the holidays will come again
For the fourth time… without you, Son
What am I going to do… it hurts so bad
What am I going to do… the pain has broken free
From all I protected me from…. I feel it now with my heart

It began several days ago, I should have known
When I felt the darkness slinking around
Trying to drown the sunshine out, make me feel inside
Panic… like birds fluttering their wings against the bars
To get out of the cage they find themselves trapped in

How can I push this wave of pain back
This time, it’s really bad… what am I going to do?
I can’t just go talk to anyone… I can’t talk about my pain
I can only write the grief, as my fingers feel it flow
Through each fingertip… when I tap each key

I’ve had many distractions, Skip’s been sick
I rescued a little puppy… both are better now
Thank-you, God… you answered my prayers
Please help me once again… my heart is heavy
I feel afraid… I feel death is near… please make it go away

I don’t want to lose anymore people I love
Should I just hate everyone …so, I can’t feel
Hate until my soul turns black?
I can’t do that … I hate dark colors in my world
I’ll love until my soul is only happy colors

I’ll love the people in my heart
But, I’ll never get close to them
So, I can’t feel the pain
Of losing them… should something happen
Understand… I love you … at a distance

It’s the only way I know
For years I talked about ‘Family’
I see I’m just the same
I stay quiet with my pain, tell no one
So, they wonder why Gloria’s like that

At this day, time… I’m thinking they are like me
In the respect, that one can’t depend on their love forever
It’s love one day… hate the next… never consistent
It’s better to grow old alone than to feel anymore
So, understand why I’m this way

Losing Tommy has done something to me
Yes, you thought right… it did do that
Not make me crazy, lose my mind
But… make me more hesitant to get too close to anyone
I love you all more than you know… this is just… the way I am

Can’t you just love me back… understand
That I have to be to myself as I love you in return
Please accept me the way that I am
To love someone is to accept them as they are
Even if I don’t say it… I love all of you

I’m the most imperfect person in the world
Even if you think you are… I don’t think that way
I don’t judge people by their covers, what they have
I do go by the way they treat others… me
I can love you no matter who you are… who am I not to?

I’ll leave you with these words before I go
That comes from the pain I feel in my heart
Love your children, always let them know
How much they mean to you, no matter if they squirm
Secretly… they smile because it means the world to them

I thought as I wrote this pain that it would go away
No, it didn’t… what will I do this time to help myself
Get past this ‘bad day’ I’m having, what will I do?
When I feel as if I’ll fall to the ground, scream in anger
Where is my son? Scream to the heavens my very pain

All left for me to do… is to go to sleep
To close my mind, not feel the pain
Hope to wake up with a smile on my face
Let my spirit soar high above me
Thank-God for another day

Lately, I tried to ignore the feelings inside me
I knew it was going to happen, I tried to pretend
That everything’s alright… really it wasn’t
I think it’s okay ever so often… if I have a ‘bad’ day
Still… everything’s going to be all right… it always is

I have to get past feeling like the little birds
Trapped in a cage, panicky because they can’t get out
Fluttering, beating my wings against the bars
Something will open the door… let me fly free
Of my grief, my pain that… trapped me

I think this happened because the sun went away
It won’t come back out on this cloudy day
When it went away, it took my happiness with it
That won’t come back until the sun shines
When the sun went away… I began to cry

No Longer Does She Lay On A Cold, Wet Ground…


No Longer Does She Lay On A Cold,Wet Ground…
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Camie.. bed.. collar..vet 7.30.13 002


A little frog hopped on the path leading to the pool of clear water
Lush grasses, cat tails, wildflowers grew at its edge
Dragonflies flitted here… flitted there
Butterflies landed on flowers, yellow and white
The pool sat surrounded in beauty, framed by nature

The sound of a woman’s voice could be heard in a distance
As she strolled down the path, her steps strong, sure
She knew exactly where she was going
To a rock that she had come to all through time
She grew older with this rock that shared her secret thoughts

The rock was big, shaped like a seat with a back
For the woman to place her pillow to sit on
She put the grass blade between her teeth
Raised her eyes toward the sky
To watch the clouds shift, change shapes

This time she came to the rock in happiness
To sit, think about… feel it deep down into her soul
She didn’t think about the last time she came
When her only child, her son… Tommy, died
The grief, pain would overwhelm her if she did

She thought of a little puppy she’d rescued
It lay dying on a cold, wet ground
All alone, close to people who knew she was there
They didn’t have the money to take her to a vet
So… all the little puppy could do… was to die

To get out of the way, because she was sick
Unsightly… who wanted a puppy with sores on her little body
No one could touch her for the fluids
That oozed, flowed out of her skin
So, let that little puppy die… no one hears it as it cries

The woman was aware that the puppy was alive
When she thought at first it was dead
She’d shed many tears over the puppy when it got gone
The puppy appeared to her for a moment, was gone again
It prompted her to look for it, found it… she did

Laying on that cold, wet ground near the woods
Children played close by, not going near her
At one time, they used to play with her, but …not now
In their minds, she was already gone
If not, there was a shotgun in the puppy’s near future

The woman wasn’t strong enough to carry her
It’s strange what a person’s body will do to save a dying soul
To rescue it from more grief, suffering and pain
The woman never gave her body another thought
She reached down for that puppy, pulled it’s little wet body to hers

She struggled to get it to her home, the weight became great
From the little puppy’s body… it couldn’t help itself
The woman prayed to God to give her strength
To get the puppy home… she’d crawl if she had to
Tears fell down her face, she didn’t know she was crying

Once she entered the gate to her home
She sighed a breath of relief… the puppy was protected now
It was up to her now… to save this little soul
Who had known nothing but, a hard way of life
The woman talked to the puppy as she put her in a bed

The bed was soft, and constantly changed throughout each day
Every moment the woman made was with pain
She’d pulled a muscle to save the little puppy
She didn’t care, even though she moaned at times
The little puppy’s needs came first… then, her pain

Time went by, care from the vet
Paid for by Camie’s Angel who began it all
Paved the ways for other angels to follow her lead
Created a miracle in little Camie, the puppy’s life
With prayers, positive thoughts, and donations

Camie began to blossom like a rose… a Camie Rose
From all the medical care, and love she received
She began to play with her two new brothers, Kissy and Chadwick
Eat good foods, her new Mommy prepared for her
She was safe, loved, cared for now

Camie is in a good home
She has quite some time to go before she is completely well
She’s in good hands now… Skip and Gloria’s hands
Along with her vet, Dr. David Fontenot, and his staff
And… all her Facebook Friends who love, follow her

Camie’s life was hard, she had no soft place to lay
Now… softness is all around her … she only has to choose her spot
Her life is good, the way it should be
The sun shines on her now, kisses her warm
No longer does she lay on a cold, wet ground… dying