Facets of Lucy

Looking at the various side of a life


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Daily Prompt – Letter to Me in 20 Years

Dear Me,

Laying around again?  That’s all you do.  Well, I guess being dead isn’t a bad excuse.  I could ask what eternity is like but what I really want to know is, did I suffer?  Even more, did J and the kids suffer?  Are they okay now?

Here’s another question because I really have nothing to teach you:  Did I use what time I had left well?  Did I leave family and friends feeling loved?

See you soon!

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Daily Prompt – Letter to 14 Year Old Me

Dear Us,

Oh, you poor thing!  I wish I could reach in from the future and save you from some of the crap you’re having to deal with in your life.  I have good news:  it gets better.  I promise, that in return for some bad times in the next 3 years or so, the rest of your life is going to be happy.  Also, Shirley loses.  (Trust me, she’s going to make you miserable for awhile, but in the game of Life, you win.

I’ve learned something recently.  This time of our life, while we’re a young teenager trying to figure stuff out, is something you might feel kind of bad about.  But all these many years later, I figured this out:  we actually did pretty well.  You’re going to make some mistakes but trust yourself.  A lot of your decisions are very mature and regretting some of it just isn’t worth your time.

You feel like an outsider.  This is a feeling that’s going to haunt you for a long time.  I suspect its because we moved so much that we never had roots or a sense of belonging.  Maybe some psychiatrist would say that feeling outside the family structure led us to feel the same way among others. And sometime in the next year, mom is going to tell you that your high school years are the best years of your life.  She’s wrong.   Lift up your head and smile because you are going to college and never moving back to her town.  You’re going to make your own family and wow, they are wonderful.  The bad news is you get stuck being mom’s caretaker and your siblings will be nowhere around.

It won’t benefit you in any way now to know exactly what, but there are some serious challenges in your future.  I’ve learned that everyone faces something rough and baby, we’ve got our share.  But we have love, family and security and we deserve it after our childhood.

Some side tips:

Save your money, never sell your AT&T and Baby Bell stocks (someday you’ll understand that),  and tell Clem not to work for the city. And try to get some sleep.  The thoughts running through your head are partly due to exhaustion. Be kind to yourself.


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Daily Prompt: Explain a Complicated Subject to Someone Who Knows Nothing About It

Come on in!  I know the space is a little tight in here but there’s not much we can do about that.  No, I am happy to take the time to teach you how to do it.  So many people are reluctant to even try to learn.  There’s something very complicated about it, apparently.  I guess it’s both an art and a science.  I have never struggled with it but so many people I know have.  It would seem from my experience that there might be some genetic issue, here.  Men seem to struggle with this task more than women.

Okay, let’s start with the basics and gather our supplies.  Usually, they are found  close by where they are actually needed, within reach, you might say.  The “roll” you are looking for is a white cylinder shaped item.  Here’s a photo:

Great, you found it!  Now, you are going to place it on the holder designed just for this purpose.  The holder has two major parts.  There is a small cylinder which has two small extensions, one on each end, usually made of wood, metal or plastic.  The cylinder is made of two pieces which overlap with a spring inside.

Yes, that’s it!  Squeeze the two ends together.  See?  Now, the other component is the actual holder.  Some stand alone and some are hung on the way but all of them have small indentions on each side.  Pick up the small cylinder and try to squeeze it and fit the two extensions in the indentions  on the holder.  Very good!  Now, squeeze the cylinder again to remove it from the holder.

This next step is critical.  Pick up the roll of toilet paper.  You will notice the paper is wrapped around a cardboard tube.  You will pick up the cylinder and feed it through the cardboard tube.  Then, just squeeze the cylinder again to find the extensions through the indentions on the holder.

Look what you have done!  You have replaced the toilet paper!   Well done.


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Daily Prompt: What is the One Thing I Hope No one Says About Me?

I was raised by a woman who cared greatly what others thought about her.  My parents had divorced and she alone had custody ( a normal result at the time) so I give her credit upfront for raising 3 children alone.  But good or bad, our behavior was measured in large measure by possible public reaction.  If I received an award, accomplished a goal or did very well in school, there was no acknowledgement from her directly.  Rather, I would hear her brag about it to a family member on the phone or a neighbor or friend.  Punishment, though, was instant and direct.  I remember when I was little, that the use of dirty words resulted in getting soap in my mouth.   Other “bad” behaviors resulted in “the belt”.  That’s right. I would be hit on my backside with a belt.  You may have heard the classic parent line which accompanied spanking, “This is going to hurt me more than it hurt you.”  No child ever believed it, and even less so when the parent’s hand doesn’t feel the acceleration or pressure applied by the belt.  As I aged, the challenge was to display no reaction – no tears, no screams, nothing.   Once I got to college, I never moved back home, not even to the same town, again. When I had children, I swore not to raise them at all like I’d been.  I bought books which I studied and compared and came up with my own way to raise my children.  I’ve told them flat-out that I had no good example and, so, had to figure it out myself.  They’re all young adults and we have good relationships.

What’s the one thing I hope no one ever says about me?

All together now:  “You’re JUST like your mother.”


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Harvey’s Wisdom

“My 19 year old grandson is coming to visit”, he told me.  I had become very fond of this 92 year old man I’ll call Harvey.  He’s something special, so, since I have a daughter the same age as his grandson, I teased him that maybe they should meet.

“He’s bad news”, Harvey surprised me by saying.  “His mother is hoping I can straighten him out while he’s here”.  He grimaced and said, “My grandson told me that he plans to drive his Camaro here.”. Shaking his head, Harvey wryly shook his head, explaining his doubts that the car could make it to the end of the block.

“My grandson says he’s made some mistakes.  That’s all well and good; we all do.  But he makes the same mistakes over and over; that’s his problem. ‘But Granddad’, the boy replied after I told him that, ‘I’ve had a lot of bad breaks’”.   Harvey paused and explained that his son, his grandson’s father had  passed away a few years before.  That was one of the items on his “bad break” list.

“Do me a favor”, Harvey told his grandson.  “Before you come here, make me a written list of all your bad breaks.  I’m old and forgetful and I’ll do better with a written list.”  His grandson agreed to do so. “Next”, Granddad said, “Rip up the list and don’t bring it up again.  That’s yesterday and its time now to plan for tomorrow.”

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“What will he do here?  Will he go to college?”  Conversation took a slight detour here while we discussed someone else who had been forced to join the military because the family hoped it would straighten him out.  Harvey, a career military man, said that some branches had quit accepting troubled kids and kids without a high school degree.

“No”, Harvey said, “The boy needs to find a job”.  Again, shaking his head, he said that he had suggested that the first thing the boy ought to do would be to apply to a local grocery store or superstore for a job. But, the grandfather had snorted, “The boy doesn’t want a job, he wants a ‘position’”. “He said he’s too smart for a job like that.  I clapped my hands together and said, ‘Son, that’s perfect!’”.

“If you are as smart as you say you are, you will stand out among all the dumb people you say work at these places.  Your manager will notice you fast and you won’t be long working at the starter position. But first, you need to get the job.  I worked in personnel for a long time in the military, and I’m telling you, you have nothing to offer an employer, outside of how “smart” you are. Right now, you have no skills, no special knowledge to offer. There are a lot of people like you out there looking for a job that are willing to work hard for their paycheck.”

It was obvious to me that the family holds Granddad in high regard to send a 19-year-old to him to help him get on the right path.

“How long do you think he’ll stay here?”, I asked Harvey, “Do you think he’ll revolt with your tough stance?”

“I don’t know”, he said sadly, “They ruined him”.  “We have a family business, and he got his share when his father died.  He has money from that and needs no paycheck to get by.  I was surprised and said that I thought it was more common to hold shares like that until the minor reached majority or even older.  He said that was more common and would have been better but he had no control over the way this was handled.  “You know”, he told me; “Rockefeller believed that leaving money to children was the surest way to ruin them.  But we’ll see”.


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“…The Eyes are the Real Organs of Love”

 I wrote this fun little poem years ago, but thought I’d share it today.

Our eyes have met; I think they’re glued.
I just can’t get my eyes off you.
Even when you’re not with me,
You’re still the only one I see.
But when I’m with you I can tell
Your eyes are stuck on me as well.
And by the way, I know its true ,
The rest of me likes the rest of you.


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Alter Ego

 

After reading a few recent posts lately about wanting to disguise how you are feeling or who you really are, I was reminded of a poem I wrote awhile back.  I’ve never shared any writings besides what I post, so I’m curious and a little nervous about the feedback but here it is>

Alter Ego

Her smile is like a warm spring day,
Refreshing to see and willing to stay.
She shares her joys and knows no pain,
And is glad when others are the same.
But she’s full of comfort when hurt sets in
And he is fortunate who calls her friend.
But mystifying, how she goes through life
And avoids those sorrows that cut like a knife.

For who is, after all, this girl I see?
This one who disguises herself as me?
I admire how she feels no hurt or pain
And wish that I could be the same.
But when others leave, she departs as well
And leaves me alone in my private hell.