Broken Dreams

As children bring their broken toys
with tears for us to mend
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He is my friend.

But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
with ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried
"How could you be so slow?!?"
"My child," he said. "What could I do?
You never did let go."

Sent to me by Pastor Winston.  I need to print this out & tape it to all four of my walls, so I remember!!  I'm so bad at this.

THE BRILLANTE WEBLOG PREMO 2008

Thank you, Sheila (aka The Cog Zone) for the Award.  You're always so faithful to visit Friends' pages and leave nice comments, plus  love your site as well.  Now I'm suppose to pick seven others to send this award to.  So I pick:

Ranchhand whose blogs make me feel I was right there to experiene it all with her.

Carol whose blogs are full of dreams & visions the Lord has given her, as well as poetry & great pics.

John Evans, whose blogs are about his relationship with God as well as his children.

Chris Blackwood (aka Blacky's Burrow) who has very informative blogs as well two terrific felines.

X-Evolutionist whose blogs are about her wonderful birds.

Shirley who takes lots of trips with their motorcycle group & has the pics to prove it.

The Retro-Queen who loves anything & everything "retro."

Have fun y'all!!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Daddy was 47 & Mother was 32 when she told him she was having another baby.  Reportedly, Daddy replied, "I'd rather have a dog."  They'd already had my sister 7 1/2 years earlier, as well as a baby boy who only lived hours.  I'm sure Daddy had been hoping I was going to be his "son" yet I never heard him say so.  I quickly became "Daddy's Girl" probably because I always liked men better than women, from the beginning.  He'd always take me to the store with him & let me sing at the top of my lungs the whole time.  He also took me hunting & used me as his bird dog. And he'd play tricks on us, like climbing up on the roof on Christmas, then come in & tell us he saw Santa up there!  On my sixth birthday, he made a point of telling me they couldn't afford to buy me a bicycle for a present.  I told him that was okay....I hated to see my daddy or my mama sad.  Of course, he then went down to the basement & brought up my bike.

Daddy wasn't tall (maybe 5' 7") but he was broad shouldered with a dark, craggy complexion, a broad nose, & eye that were always looking off in the distance.  He was also an alcoholic, yet never missed a day's work as a Certified Plymouth Mechanic. He was pigeoned toed (which must be where my son, Jason, got it. He had a full head of silver, wavy hair until the day he died at age 67.

He read Louis L' Amore westerns, had his own particular lullaby, a love of poetry & fishing  & could tell you anything you wanted to know about any baseball teams that existed.  He always watched "Saturday Night Wrestling" all the while cursing the wrestlers & saying it was all faked. He liked drive-in picture shoes and long Sunday drives out in the country.  I'll never forget all the camping trips down on the river, where Daddy would build a fire & cook.  He'd wind up dumping the bacon out of the skillet, pick it up, brush it off & say "that'll make it taste better."  And we'd fish from the bank when it was so dark you couldn't tell if you'd hooked a fish or a water moccasin.

Unfortunately, he also tended to come home "three sheets in the wind," at which time he'd start cooking supper while slinging flour all over the place & slam-banging around in the kitchen, cursing enough to upset Mother. He never paid his charge accounts at the grocery stores & apparently got behind on the rent, because we moved a lot. I've heard tales about him coming home drunk & Mother hitting him over the back with a child's rocking share, then picking him up, slinging him over her shoulder & dumping him in a cold shower, holding the door while he yelled & cursed. Also before my time, he apparently had decided to bottle his own beer & when done he put the bottles under the kitchen sink.  Later they began to explode & my sister said there were bottles exploding all around the house.

This was the same Daddy that would sleep outside on a bed with a metal frame with my sister & me, pointing out the constellations & making circles in the dark with his cigarette to entertain us. The same Daddy that would punish my older sister for things she didn't do, for things I said that he thought she said, & the one who refused to let her date, saying she was "boy crazy."  My parents finally divorced at the end of my first grade of school.  Daddy was the world's best at making people feel sorry for him, & I can't count the tears I cried.  Still, it was more peaceful once he was gone.  I guess I prayed that God would make Daddy quit drinking & bring him & mama back together, every night for a solid year.

Once he'd moved out & gotten settled, I'd catch the Greyhound bus & go see him every weekend. He'd take me to the old Cotton Rodeo in the Fort Worth Stockyards & also to the Roller Derby.  He'd take me fishing & taught me how to ride my bike without the training wheels. Of course, he also took me to the Cabana Lounge for the best tasking hamburgers in the world & that's where I played shuffleboard with the other drunks.  Usually won too!

I think the only personal conversation I ever asked him was when I was about four years old.  I remember asking, "Daddy, why don't you stop drinking?"  I got no answer, just that far away look in Daddy's eyes.  I wish I'd gotten to know him better as I got older.  But I didn't.  Other things became more important until my visits dwindled to three or four times a year.  I was with him when he died from cancer.  I cried my eyes out, then went home, took my baby (Danny) in my arms & rocked him to sleep while singing "All Around The Water Tank."

I wish he'd lived long enough to know my sons.  They loved fishing & hunting & riding bulls better than anything.  Daddy would have been so proud.

I loved him & miss him tool this day.

Technorati Tags: driver-in movies,hunting,fishing,alcoholics,wrestling,roller derby,poetry,shuffleboard,divorces

Oklahoma Hills

Many a month has come and gone
Since I've wandered from my home
In those Oklahoma hills
Where I was born

Many a page of my life has turned
Many lessons I have learned
And I feel like in those hills
Where I belong

CHORUS:
Way down yonder in the Indian nation
Ridin' my pony on the reservation
In the Oklahoma hills where I was born

Way down yonder in the Indian nation
A cowboy's life is my occupation
In the Oklahoma Hills where I was born

But as I sit here today
Many mile's I am away
From the place I rode my pony
Through the draw

Where the oak and black-jack trees
Kiss the playful prairie breeze
And I feel back in those hills
Where I belong

CHORUS

Now as I turn life a page
To the land of the great Osage
In those Oklahoma hills
Where I was born

Where the black oil rolls and flows
And the snow white cotton grows
And I feel like in those hills
Where I belong

CHORUS
©Renewed 1973 Michael H. Goldsen. Inc.

Here's the other one Daddy sang as a "lullaby."

All around the water tanks
Waiting for a train
A thousand miles away from home
And sleeping in the rain
I walked up to a brakeman
To give him a line of talk
He says if you got money
I'll see that you don't walk
I haven't got a nickle
Not a penny can I show
Get off, get off, you railroad bum
He slammed the boxcar door.

He put me off in Texas
A State I dearly love
The wide open spaces all around me
The moon and stars up above
Don't nobody seem to want me
Or lend me a helping hand
I'm on my way from 'Frisco
I'm going back to Dixieland.
Though my pocket book is empty
And my heart is full of pain
I'm a thousand miles away from home
Just a waiting for the train.

Yodel lay hee oh, de lay hee hay, de lay hee
Odelayhee alayhee alayhee.

My Daddy used to sing me to sleep with this song....I in turn did the same for my sons.  Daddy couldn't yodel as well as he thought he could & I myself never even tried.  I'm going to see if I can find the one other "lullaby" Daddy sang (which I carried down to my kids.  Daddy, obviously wasn't "typical."

I've been so busy the past few days that I've completely over-done it!  Yesterday was the dreaded shopping at Wal-Mart day, but for once I found a handicap space right up front & an electric cart had been left right there too!  It still took me longer than I wanted it too, and with Texas heat in the three digits, I was really "glowing" after being back in the car two seconds.  Still, one can't have everything & I was still praising God for the parking space & luck with the cart!

Today, I went to my storage building to drag out my four foot table.  I'll say one thing for my son, he can pack more in a storage building than anyone else I know.  Unfortunately, his rear & my rear are a lot different (dang it!).  Thought I wasn't going to be able to raise the garage type door, but it rolled right up.  This is the first time I've been to the storage building since I moved.  LOL!  He'd told me he had everything in there organized so he could find whatever I needed.  Liar, liar, pants on fire.  After squeezes in more than I ever thought I could, stepping over & under & around, shifting boxes of dishes & who knows what else (I thought I'd simplified my life before I moved but I must have been dreaming), I finally found my table behind some paintings with boxes stacked in front of them.  It wasn't pretty, but I got the table anyway!  Talk about "glowing," I just thought my car was hot after shopping the day before.

I had asked my son to go get it, but his timing is not my timing, nor or his ways, my ways (sound familiar?).  So Ms. Impatient did it herself. Also pulled muscles in my sides that I didn't know I had & wish I still didn't.  We won't even discuss my poor ankles.  Fact is, my mama taught me to be independent (to a fault) and I can be very determined (ok, hard-headed) when I want to be.

Now, if you read my earlier blog about how I'm wall to wall furniture out here, imagine adding a four foot table to the mix.  But it holds my microwave, my coffee pot, my toaster, my slow cooker, my electric oven (which was under the bed) & two hot plates I broke down & bought.  I also managed to re-arrange all my furniture except my bed, and even unearthed my iron!  At last!  I can cook!  I even have my folding chair over there so I can sit down while I do it. And there's not as much floor space to be cleaned.  So there.  And there's still the day bed for all my visitors to sit on if more than one comes at a time.  Like....when my son has my grandson with him.  I've been here since the end of December, 2007 and they're the only ones who have come to see me except for one of my friends from school & she's a saint anyway.

Really, the only reason I spent the day doing this was because said son was supposed to bring my table out here yesterday, which became this morning, which became tomorrow.  But I'd already pulled everything out in the middle of the floor, including two sacks of trash, so that wall would be clear when he got the table out here. He was also supposed to have me out to his place for a cookout.  All of this got postponed (as it often does with my little boy) because just before 11:00 a.m. this morning he got a call from his best friend that his rodeo, scheduled for tonight had been moved up to this afternoon. "Gee, Mom, just make you a path through it all & I promise I'll be out there tomorrow."  Yeah.  Make me a path.  He's obviously forgotten the size of this little cabin.  Now that I'm re-organized there IS A PATH through it all.

Furthermore, in spite of all bad I was hurting when I finished, I sat down at that dang table & cooked a real meal for supper.  Then I took my shower & by the time I made it back to the recliner I would have traded my son for a good pain killer, bless his little heart. I raised him right.  I really did.  But there's just soooo much of his Daddy in him it's a losing battle by now.

What Makes a Dad
God took the strength of a mountain, The majesty of a tree,
The warmth of a summer sun, The calm of a quiet sea,
The generous soul of nature, The comforting arm of night,
The wisdom of the ages, The power of the eagle's flight,
The joy of a morning in spring, The faith of a mustard seed,
The patience of eternity, Then God combined these qualities,
When there was nothing more to add,
He knew His masterpiece was complete,
And so,
He called it ... Dad

Flowers for Robert Jason Allen

I can't believe it's been 12 years now since I hugged your neck & heard you say, "I love you, Mom."  Seems like just a few months ago.  I think it hit me harder this year than in the last couple.

There are so many things you've missed: getting to know your nephew (who reminds me a lot of you) and now your half-sis has a new little boy named after you, Hunter Jason.  I know how you'd smile at that!

I seem to miss you more each day now.  I know Granny is there with you, because she saw you not long before she drew her last breath.

Be at peace, Jason.  I'll see you soon.

Love you so much,

Mom

Today is the 12th Anniversary of Jason's death.  Doesn't seem possible that it's been so long since I hugged his neck and told him good-bye as he got ready to go back to Andrews AFB.  Maybe because it took almost a year to get everything of his sent home and because I still am in contact with several of his military friends.  I remember thinking that first year that the pain would eventually fade away.  But while it does lessen, it never completely goes away.

Time DOES NOT HEAL.....it simply teaches us to live with chronic pain.

If my doctor had not put me on anti-depressants when he did, I know in my heart I would not still be here.

A person considering suicide is so depressed, so scared, so desperate that they do not think much about the people who love them.  It becomes an "every man for himself" scenario.  All that person can think about is how much pain he/she is in & can see no change, no hope, for things to get better.

It makes me proud that so many people thought so highly of Jason, loved him so much, that I still hear from some of them even after 12 years.

Jason was a Christian who knew where he was going, so even though there were signs that he tried to stop at the last  moment and was unable to, at least I have the assurance that I'll see him again one day.

The pain?  Someday's it blandslides me until I can do nothing but cry.  Yet, there are wonderful memories of my youngest son that I will never forget.  And he was an exceptional young man.

Please feel free to comment, or leave "flowers" here for Jason.