Chris is dead…

Those were the first words that I heard this weekend. My husband arrived from work at 6:30 in the morning and the first words to leave his lips were “Chris is dead…” The deep breath that followed held years of sorrow at the world. The second set of words floored me. “They sat at the Hooters and said they missed him as they downed beer and toasted him.”

My husband met Chris at UPS and both were drivers. They started at the same time, drove trucks, and Chris was a newly wed. His wife was beautiful. But where there was so m Iuch potential, there was a dark secret that would destroy his life. We didn’t understand how Chris could let his lovely wife go, but go she did with the alcohol chasing her out the door. Chris hid the booze, or tried too. My husband saw all of the symptoms and tried to give support, but Chris drifted away.

It was the alcohol that killed him. They say that only thirty percent of alcoholics find their way to sobriety. A lot of them lose their families, friends, jobs, careers and end up in trouble of some sort with the law. Chris hid his by hanging out with a crowd who spent all of their off hours drinking together.

Sadly, Chris was in his mid-forties, looked older than my husband does at 58, and at the end, alone. If you have a friend with a drinking problem, please, don’t buy them a drink. Encourage them to get help. Chris could have gotten help through the programs at UPS, but somehow, he never did. If you have a problem with alcohol, there is hope. Find an AA meeting, go through an Employee Assistance Program, use your insurance, but please, it is a matter of life or death.

Battle of the Blah!

The blahs have come home to roost.
Laundry blahs, the distant cousins of vacuum blahs,
Bed blahs related to cooking blahs,
Politic blahs hiding under the bed,
Biting and fighting all the other blahs
Leading to loud voices, slamming doors,
and colorless blahs.
Thank god for shower blahs and the
Cascading predictability of water which is
Not related to the blahs by
any marriage or
reason.
Blah.

The Race

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Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: 2016 Week 44

Leaving Galveston on 9/11, we had an escort of US Coastguard. The Jo Kiri had an escort of dolphins. I thought at first they were trying to get out of the way, but no, they jumped, leapt, fell, splashed and returned. This went on until the Jo Kiri was out of sight.

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The Wave

Photo Prompt: Sunset Gold

The photo that the prompt is written on can be found at the link below:

Thursday photo prompt – Anomaly #writephoto

At dusk, everything is golden. The sun stretches, reaches long fingers to the land. One last caress to her children, one last kiss. Out there in the distance, they normally turned their heads away, as children do. It’s all part of the cycle of growing up. She never resented that. Tonight, though, she heard a sound, a coo perhaps of happiness, and turning saw a reflection of her own love reflected back at her. This was special, something she would see after a storm in the middle of the day. Musical notes added to the coo, until at last all of the sun’s errant children sang to her glory. Smiling at the rainbow, she clucked her tongue and tucked them into bed. Her sister the moon would protect them tonight.

You Dared Me, I’m Back

An old dare, newly done.

bewilder
joggle
cohesion
rectify
indolent
ascertain
enthrall
uncanny

Bewildered to see me again? But why,

When you joggled the cage door yourself?

When you said that you would rectify

The differences between that television series,

That horror movie of our romance?

It took a bit of uncanny guessing,

Of peanut cohesion, of failed illicit dieting,

Of indolent chocolates on lazy tongues.

You enthrall me with your hidden steps

Around the scales of life. But,

I found you again, and ascertained

That you had grown again, with me, as

Now about your hips which I squeeze,

I encircle you, my dear, have a slice.

For you’ll not forget me again.

 

Yes, yes, yes, you must guess who I am, old friend.

 

Word Challenge:Base

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/base/

Your base accusations thrown
Up into the light, then fired
Off one by one where others
Out of the loop mock and destroy.

You should have called, asked
While listening, looked again
For the rainbow's wraps between us
Where we had left them, uninterpreted.

Instead, you rose, phoenix-like voice
Raised, accusing me of stealing
Your opinions, inflating your ego,
Stealing away your personality.

Baseless, I thought, until I couldn't
Find a way between us with a flashlight.
I couldn't find the boxes of photos I
Had left in hiding, the photos of pain.

I looked for the boxes of joy, missing
The ominous spaces, the boxes of sorrow
Which had been sealed by us both. What dark
Adjustments were made by you without me?

Now we step like opposing forces armed 
To the teeth, with no base to function from
As the war begins. Why? Some blame time
Which was never my friend. Is it over?

The Wave,Color Contrast:Tuesday Photo Challenge

Tuesday Photo Challenge – Color Contrast

And so the wave lashes its way through the blues of the white sand beach of Tulum. Here is where the Corona ads are created, the Atlantic Ocean, forever picking up a load of sand and moving it as I rearrange the furniture each Christmas. Weed washes ashore only to be thrown back into the shallows as the next wave retreats. Hypnotizing, the waves coming to and fro.

I met a man here on our lunch break. My husband had wandered off to find something he had seen. He was beautiful. I am not. My age, or it seemed so. He made no attempt to lure me into a tepid affair but wanted to know what I saw when I looked around. A kindred spirit of the kind that finds me. It’s totally random, but there is a depth in people that if we give them time to listen to it, comes to be something that must be shared by another spirit. We talked of life, love and how our journeys were never at an end. If he could, he would sit and watch the blues change all day long. So would I. It was a soothing spot, salsa music playing and the smell of chicken roasting in herbs for lunch. Traveling the world had given him scars, but he bore them with pride. He was not a conquerer, instead he was an observer of life.

The camera I used is a Canon G-10. My 50D had gotten totally drowned the day before and was drying. So I had to rely on my little friend the G-10 to record the moment. You can almost feel the grit in the water when you look at the wave. Geologists talk about the work load that a wave can carry. This one is carrying a heavy load. The water is restrained by the weight and is still able to arrive with bubbles, froth, and seaweed.

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Puff

https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/206087/posts/2248

tltweek40      (photo is not mine but the prompt’s focus)

He exhaled, a colorful rainbow of smoke filling the only space the light came in the window. More opportunities like this secret pleasure wouldn’t be common. The law has changed, and with it the power to destroy yourself, even in such a subtle way.

The Anger, The Crying; I Think Not.

I watch public television all the time. I travel in my mind away from the noise and bluster to places in the world that have frisky lambs, lochs, and waterfalls. I want to be in that world, just for a bit. There are always people who search for the old days, but I don’t want those. Disease, prejudice, a lack of money aren’t quaint or charming. I’m looking for modern charm in places of the world where charm is preserved. I don’t want the crass consumerism, the crowds that leave you without a breath, but I want to see how people get along together, supporting each other, and still taking time out for individuality. I’ve never had much patience for people who raise arguments for the sake of arguing. Arguments make my stomach knot up and my head ache.

Politics always concerns me because people forget that we are a “people” and not just two armies on the battlefield. I watch European governments deal with their parties with relief that there are more than two parties that have seats in power. They change with the whim of the people and sometimes because of events that overwhelm the senses.

They say that the last great generation was that of my grandparents who grew up in a time of strident ideologies that tore families apart, targeted people for genocide, and ripped the surface of the planet apart. People gave all they had to make sure the stridency of hate ended. They believed their sacrifices would protect those who came after from such a fate. Churches gathered resources to protect the innocent. Families gathered supplies and knit socks and hats. The Red Cross had a generosity that today is portioned carefully. Men and women gave their lives, in the military and as civilians. If you had two pots, and your neighbor had none, you shared. Or so the stories tell, and those stories that haven’t been written down or filmed have found a place in the garden of good deeds where you didn’t brag because you did something good. I’ve been told those good people are gone forever, and I’ll tell you know, more are coming up from the shadows where they learned of needs to the bright light where we should again celebrate them…

I live in an area with a high military and government service population. Life is fast-paced here and if you don’t slow down you will never see the good gleaming out in the open. If you are rich, you can take a world stance and be a hero in the public eye. Mrs. Clooney is representing a whole people in a court at Nuremberg, she was the lawyer who recently took the case of the Yadizi people of Northern Iraq. Young girls enslaved, young boys indoctrinated to ISIL, fathers and mothers murdered, what positive could possible come of such a situation? It’s the advocates who agree that there must be a world accountability. But what if you don’t have a lot of money? You don’t have the time? Would you want this happening in your country? We defended these people, so did the Kurds.

There was a couple, both Marines, who took care of things that “needed doing” in the neighborhood and at the school where their children attended. They never did it for the reason of publicity. They did it because it was right. They helped as they could; shoveling snow so that seniors didn’t risk it, rebuilding the crew shed for a high school with materials that were thrown up and now had a chance to serve. They cleaned up after Gradnight celebrations. They stayed busy because they believed community is where things start. They took a lonely neighbor to ball games, invited the neighbors to dinner, and reached out as much as they could.  I was saddened when they went back home.

There are so many volunteers providing meals for the elderly, for the dispossessed. The local market delivered four tractor loads of food last fall to be given to needy families. They’ve kept it up. We have a homeless prevention program that advocates, shelters and guides families back into a position where they can resume their lives in a positive way for themselves. Vets who provide services to animal rescue organizations? Vet clinics who foster kittens for adoption? Lawyers who work with families who can’t afford legal advice? PAL’s organizations who foster, promote and find homes for animals from all volunteer systems? Newman’s Own, where all profits are assigned to help those in need. Teachers who stay late to tutor for free? Ball teams that give back to youth in their cities promoting a healthy lifestyle. There are so many people out there who care. These are the greats of our times.

Communities want the same things: a reduction of pollution, services for those in need, medical treatment, an end to homelessness, respect for our veterans, education for the young, jobs, roads, schools. How did we start arguing about these things?

World War II saw the end of the implementation of the greatest social experiment ever. We took care of our own, we gave the world what was an intense reaction to the behaviors  of totalitarianism and Nazism. Bullies need a target to be better than in order for them to come to power. Roosevelt used an extensive national program to rebuild a nation whose classes didn’t communicate, to find work for those needing work, and to protect a national call to action by all of her members. It wasn’t perfect, but it established a system and a precedent to protect the “Welfare” or wellbeing of the citizens of our Nation. Seniors were given a chance to be fed, housed, and given medical treatment so they didn’t have to work until their dying day. early education came twenty years after.

Goldwater was the first conservative Republican, believing and creating a manifesto to undo the advances that the Roosevelts had brought forward. Simply put, he believed that our society would become weak if we kept “bailing” people out. That was his choice of word, not mine. I know of few, if any at all, that didn’t advance in life, be it from family, a teacher, the military, with a helping hand.

We’re Americans, not something for one and nothing for others. I’ve got MS. Because of it, I won’t have a pension to retire with, so should I be angry with other teachers who will get a pension that they have earned? I don’t think so. Luck has something to do with where we end up. So does due diligence. So does who you can rely on to show you the ropes to get where you want to be. Point is we are one people. E pluribus unum. We’re different, we’re the same, we’re colorful and bland, we believe in one God or not. We can cherish each other because of our uniquenesses and differences. Screaming hate from one party to the next accomplishes nothing.

Let’s get this voting thing done and go back to our work, dreams, and families. Let’s stand as Americans with the right to disagree, but let’s stand together.