Long time no see

As I have said many times. My life is crazy. One minute things are going well and the next it’s a horror show. At least it seems that way to me.

Being a constant worrier puts me in the position of worrying about everyone and everything. I know. I know. It doesn’t have to be that way. My family is very quick to tell me that. It just doesn’t work  for me.

There are days when it seems like I am praying with every breathe. Other days I just plain forget to pray because my mind is so full of questions with no answers. That should be when I am praying the most. I guess I have to claim being human, don’t I?

I also forgot the right name and password to even get here. Somewhere I have it written down. I use to have a document with such things, but my computer crashed and all went with it. Just got into the grove last night when my friend Clem came and set me up again.

Anyway. No promises. But I will try harder to keep up.

Where Are You Going?

Many years ago, 19 to be exact, I was helping to raise my oldest granddaughter. She was and still is one of the brightest spots in my life. At a very young age she had a health problem and it wasn’t always easy to keep her comfortable. So I would sing. And then I would sing some more.

At the urging of a few people I started writing a story here and a story there of my many varied life experiences. Thoughts are always in my head. Some, that ease their way in and tap my memory. Others that give me a jolt and almost take my breathe away as the memory isn’t one I care to relive.

But the memories of my oldest sweetheart are truly lovely and great ones and thinking of that time made me think of the songs I use to sing to her. The one that was forthcoming first was *Turn Around*, or as I use to call it, *Where are you going*. There were some days when I would sing till I was almost hoarse. Then I would hum. Put her little cheek next to mine and hum. That would soothe her also.

The verse that sticks in my head is the first one, and so relevant in most everybody’s home eventually.

*Where are you going, my little one, little one,
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you’re two,
turn around and you’re four,
Turn around, you’re a young girl going out of my door.
Turn around, turn around,
Turn around, you’re a young girl going out of my door. *

She is now nineteen and healthy as can be, so I guess she is no longer a young girl, but she always will be to me.

Father May I

Father may I sit in the grass with you, and watch the sun go down
May I ask you, when will my journey end
May I see you in my dreams every night
May I know in my soul that you are always with me

And Father may I tell you my secrets when they overwhelm me
May I always be kind, even when I don’t want to be
May I choose to do the right thing at the right time
May I feel you beside me as I see the stars glisten

And Father may my children know that they are loved by you and me
May they also know that I did the best I knew how
May I never stumble in my faith in who you are and what you do
May I love even those who are not loveable

And Father, will you save me a place in your heaven, so that I may finally understand the true meaning of your love.

*The Hurrier I Go, the Behinder I Get*

I remember my mother had a plaque with that saying on it. Although she explained the meaning to me, I never really understood it. Now I do.

The older I get the slower I operate. Maybe it’s somewhat of a protective mechanism.

So much going on this month. First with getting all the taxes done. When you itemize there is usually lots of paper work to be had. And this year I made a mistake and that took time to fix.

Then the *Klutz* and *If It Can Happen It Will*, in me decided to show it’s ugly head. My husband got the flu and shortly thereafter I was blessed to get it also. Then a couple of weeks ago I somehow tore a muscle in my leg, causing pain and aggravation. I eventually realized the pain and appearance of the leg needed a medical opinion, which my neighbor who is an EMT provided. I had a blood clot. Opps. The doctor worked me in and told me it wasn’t a serious thing, but I had to have a couple of tests, results not back as of yet, but my apprehension was relieved and I have tried to go on with things as normally as I can.

I also want to say to my friend Vicki, her father died a few days ago, that I am very sorry for you loss and I love you.

*Leaning on the Breast of Our Savior*

Now there was leaning on Jesus’ bosom one of His disciples, who Jesus loved.”
John 13:23 KJV

Let us go deeply into the portrait of that supper, the last meal our Lord shared with His beloved disciples. As we enter the most intimate scene of human history, do our hearts pound and become full to almost bursting? For we are beginning to experience the magnitude, and depth, and power of being in the presence of Perfect Love. Does our breathing become more rapid or does it stop for fear that even one exhale might disturb the sacred scene before us? Do we sense the immediacy of the passing moments as they fulfill their appointed time?

Now, our eyes fix on Him, the One Who is Perfect Peace, the One upon Whose bosom His beloved disciple leans. Dare we intrude!? Can we even think, with our finite minds, the infinite sensation of receiving the Love being given as that one leans on the breast of his Master and friend? What is this loyal follower sensing through the rise and fall of his Lord’s breathing? Do we have the right to hear, as this one does, the very heartbeat of Jesus? Do we have the right to draw near to the One Whose lifeblood did spill on that Good day to conquer death, hell, and the grave?

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all–how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? …Christ Jesus, who died–more than that, who was raised to life–is at the right hand of God and interceding for us. ~~ Romans 8:32,34 NIV

…neither death nor life…neither a power from on high nor a power from below, nor anything else in God’s whole world has any power to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord!
Romans 8:38,39 J. B. Phillips

Our Lord beckons us to draw near to Him. He beckons us to lean hard upon His breast.

“Child of my love, lean hard
And let me feel the pressure of thy care…
Thou are not near enough,
I would embrace thy care;
So I might feel My child reposing on my breast.

Thou lovest Me?
I knew it. Doubt not then;
But loving Me, lean hard.”
~~Anonymous~~

Who’s Responsible

For several months I have been thinking and wondering about the responsibilities of parents to their children. Where does it start and where does it end?

Can you blame parents for everything their children do? If your 5th grader cheats on a test in school, are you responsible? If your college bound child is using drugs, are you responsible? What if your teenage son starts a fight in school, are you responsible? What if you find out your 9th grade daughter is promiscuous, are you responsible? How far does the responsibility factor go for a parent?

Times are so much different now than when I was growing up. Back then silence was a common commodity. If there were cracks in the family dynamic, it was kept silent. If you had a relative who committed a heinous act it wasn’t necessarily broadcasted to the whole world as it is today. If it did become known there was not nearly as much finger pointing. If an offspring or any relative did something horrible, that person got the blame because they were responsible.

It is a fact that no parent is perfect. We all have made and will continue to make mistakes because we are human, but when does our culpability begin and where does it end?

There are always stories about horrible things that have been done by SOMEONES child. I remember years ago a dear friend of mine who had a son who became a drug dealer. He was eventually sent to prison and I just recently found out he has had several trips down that road.

As a parent I know I have felt responsible when my children did something they shouldn’t have done. I must not have set a very good example for them. Or somehow I missed doing or saying the right things.

How long does the responsibility last? Do you or do you think you would, feel responsible for what your children do even if they were adults?

Have you seen her?

Once in a while I see her. A month or so ago I saw her at the grocery store. Yesterday it was at Walmart.

You can’t miss her if you are an observant person. She is always covered from head to toe in clothes. No matter what the weather is. She wears large dark glasses and her hair is in a pony tail. Usually she wears a heavy cover of makeup.

If you haven’t noticed her, you can’t know the story. I don’t know her at all. But I know what she lives. I can tell.

She wears long sleeve shirts or sweaters. That’s to cover the bruises on her arms. The dark glasses cover the usual black eye or eyes that may not be black at that moment. Perhaps it is purple or a weird shade of green or maybe even yellow. Her hair is almost always in a pony tail. Maybe that hides the bald spot where a patch of hair is no longer there, because even the roots were pulled out.

Did you notice she was limping as she pushed the cart down the aisle? That kick to the knee was pretty painful. Do you wonder why she is only using one hand to pick up and deposit groceries in the cart? Could it be there is a broken finger or two.

I notice. I am very observant about such things. I know she is in pain. Not the kind of pain you may think. Physically, pain is nothing to her. She is use to it. The pain that is hurting her is emotional and mental. Pain when she sees her children’s faces when they look at her. Or when they show the fear in their eyes because she can barely get out of bed in the morning.

There is no pain for herself. It is always for her babes. She wonders how long this will go on. How will her children be when they grow up? If she never takes them away.

Her mind is always working, trying to decide what is best, and what is worst. Can it get any worse?

Have you seen her?

“Appalling”

How is it to be understood?  How can one explain it?  We all know that many important situations and issues occupy the minds of those who operate the print media of Rockingham County.  But, really!  Incredulous!  Embarrassing!  Shameful!   And to quote every actor who has portrayed, on stage, King Mongut, in that well-loved and long-running stage adaptation of Margaret Landon’s, Anna and the King of Siam c.1944:  “…most unscientific.” This reader believes that the absence of print notices informing news readers in this county about the lunar eclipse was… most unscientific, indeed, and a lost opportunity to report an event that would cause some groovy anticipation in the minds of the regular, loyal readers.

At those times when King Mongut used that exclamation, “most unscientific,”  he talked of many different and interesting subjects.  He also said that he thought Moses must have been a fool (just a little added trivia) and most unscientific.

I wonder if King Mongut would have labeled a total eclipse of the moon, scientific?  I also wonder where were the notices in the Reidsville Review and The Reidsville Free Press that could have told us to go outside last night and look up.  The fact that they didn’t is, to me, incredulous, appalling, embarrassing, etc.  A LUNAR ECLIPSE!  One of those events that occurs independently of man’s  touch or tweaking.   His hands are completely off.  He can capture the lovely and alluring event with his technology.  A likeness?  Semblance?  In real time?  But he cannot alter the celestial phenomenon one nano-bit, not one. Knowing that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Okay, then.  There are many accounts of the lunar eclipse along with some mind-blowing photographs for our viewing pleasure on other news websites.  Maybe next time, Reidsville.

Vicki Herndon

I Will Always Love You

Whether it be star-crossed lovers, family or friends, I wonder how often that statement has been said. And eventually dismissed as if it meant nothing.

I know over my lifetime I have left so many friends behind because of moves, that there is barely enough room in my head to remember them all. At one point, for many different reasons, I moved 10 times in 10 years. Just about the time I would be getting use to the neighborhood and neighbors the packing would begin.

The first few times I tried to stay in touch via mail or telephone, but eventually, slowly but surely they were lost from me. This past year I contacted or was contacted by a few of those friends that hadn’t heard from me in years, and was surprised to notice that talking to some was like I hadn’t ever been gone and talking to others was like talking to a stranger.

Of course I must say there were times I was glad to get out of Dodge, so to speak and never missed for a moment, those I left behind. It had become a pattern and one in which I was severely tethered to.

After my days of drinking came to an end, those I drank with were no longer interested in having me by their side. I was no longer the funny, silly, sometimes temper laden person they were use to. And to me, they were no longer any of those things either. They were mostly boring or so flamboyant it was almost scary to be with them as a sober person.

There are a few friends I have stayed in touch with and who I love dearly and I have made other friends that I treasure very much. Some are friends from the Internet. Although unlike most Internet friends, I have traveled to see them in person. Which has helped take away my zero trust factor as well.

I think about families who separate one from another. Parents who disown their children. Children who disown their parents. Siblings who no longer even talk to each other. As per usual, I have wondered about it all.

Marriages are broken and anger replaces the love that once was.

My conclusion? God is the only one you can really count on to always love you.

*The Magnet Truck*

Okay.  I’m going to have to fess up. I thought there was a magnet truck that picked up washing machines, dryers, etc.  I just knew there was a huge circular magnet that attached to the big hydraulic arm of the grabber truck.  “Viola” a magnet truck. 

But, my husband put enough doubt into my brain so that I was forced to call the “Reidsville City Of” – Streets Supervisor, Mr. McNeil.  Mr. McNeil kindly and generously confirmed that there was, indeed, no magnet truck.  We had a very nice conversation.  In other words, he indulged me.

Mr. McNeil told me that the hydraulic arm and the grabber were all one piece.  That would mean that the workers would not be able to take off the grabber in order to attach the magnet – the magnet that doesn’t exist.  I must admit that I was very disappointed.

Just think…If there really were a magnet truck that picked up washing machines, dryers, etc. the folks in West Virginia could use one.  That way, people wouldn’t be able to make so many jokes about them.

Alrighty then.  That’s my story.
Peace ~Vicki~
P.S.  While I was at Baptist Hospital having a lumbar puncture (spinal tap) my ex-neurologist was telling me West Virginia jokes!  I kid you not.  Everybody knows how still you are supposed to be when you’re having a spinal tap.