Category Archives: – blog post

Irrelevent

Almost all the conversations we overhear are because people tend to think that their conversations are the most important words to be said over the phone line ever. Turning down the next lane, you find the same cart pusher on the phone still carrying the phone and the same conversation. The next aisle there’s the same cart, but this time, no talker, oh, wait a minute I hear that cart pusher coming.

The cart is the same conversation walking and shopping. Blocking the aisle, I say “Excuse me,)” the cart doesn’t move. The second time, I myself being tired of this cart pusher said again “EXCUSE ME!} This time when I said that, I was louder and bolder by bumping the cart.

They may be talking about the kids’ school projects. This conversation seems to be the only thing going on in their lives. To all those who stand in a checkout line, and there people you’ve still talking while the cashier is trying to collect their money and people are behind them. I say to you that their conversation is BORING, your talking is RUDE, and it is totally IRRELEVANT to anyone standing in earshot.

If you’ve gotten this far, don’t you think that this was the most irrelevant one-way conversation you’ve heard in a long time???

 

Sunday Was the Best

 

This article tells how quickly moods can and do change with dementia. Notice how one situation was quieted when one dear friend stepped up with a simple solution. The panic really has to become quieted also because otherwise there would be a scene.

Last Sunday began the same as all my visits to see Bill or pick him up for Sunday meetings. We got ready for a meeting and got there early enough to visit with everyone. He was a little angst-ridden, to begin with, but as soon as our dear friends saw him, they went and said hello to him. There is one little boy about 2 1/2 years that always runs up to him yelling, “Bill, Bill” and throwing his little arms up in the air to signal Bill to pick him up.  Oh, what a delight it is to see both of their eyes light up. Continue reading Sunday Was the Best

Twinkle

Twinkle

Even though it has only been a couple of weeks, it seems as if it has been a year since I have added anything new to my blog, in fact, I have added nothing at all to the words that meander down the road to insignificance. At the thought of those words, you can tell that I’m feeling a little melancholy today as I have the past days. Otherwise, had I not been in this state of mind, I might put on a smile as I forge onward to begin again on my blog.

I used to see a twinkle in his eye

And I knew that his smile was nigh.

My expectations left me high

Just waiting for that twinkle in his eye.

 

Yesterday I knew this was to be true

And now I’m not sure what to do

That smile has lingered like the dew

Oh for the eyes to twinkle a new.

 

Now his eyes just always look blank

My eyes saw nothing and my heart sank.

I looked around and I began to feel dank

But I wanted to be back into the rank

 

Of that beautiful and precious smile in his eyes

It’s called a twinkle and follows his guise

I’ve been waiting oh please give me that surprise

First a twinkle and then that smile I idolize.

 

My heart is broken but still I wait

Because I know it is there, I am his mate

For a while now it is usually late

But it’s there, just look, it’s beautiful, and I don’t have to wait.

How Could I Show the Depth of My Love?

Depth

It’s funny in a facetious way how my profundity of love for my husband would be tested in such a way such as it is at this time. While I was growing up, there was no real love in our Copy of Copy of mom and dadfamily. If it wasn’t for my step-father who I have always felt was my real father I would not have a speck of love within me. He put us, his family first. He never cared what time we called or what he was doing at that time; his secretary was given instructions to put his family through to him even if he was in a meeting. That’s how he thought of us; we were his family.

Since he married my mom when I was eleven years old, it was almost too late for real ron ann col 56family love to shine through and actually recognize it as being something special or even important. My real father had no love for us kids, and a future series on growing Continue reading How Could I Show the Depth of My Love?

Life is a Saga

Saga

Life is a Saga

Birth is a constant and death is a constant. These two constants happen in every one’s life. As soon as birth takes place that constant has begun. Now it becomes intermittent and irregular. When that part ends, then the other constant is in place, death.

Intermittent and irregular things happen to all of us between the constants of birth and death and that is called life. There have been many things that have happened to all of us. Many of them were good, and those are the memories that should be the only things in the forefront of our minds. Unfortunately, there were also the many tragedies that happen in all of our lives and people think they should just forget them; as it were, out of sight out of mind.

Wouldn’t that be nice if they were wrapped in neat little packages of good and bad? If that were the case then life would be good. The intermittent cycles of life would be in neat and self-contained packs.  Life isn’t like that though. The bad things in life are not ever wrapped in neat little packages. Unfortunately, the bad always contaminates the good and the owner spends a lifetime trying to clean up the contamination.

That is what makes everyone’s life a saga. Each of us could write a story about our own lives. They would all be different, very interesting, and no two stories would be the same. At the same time, that other constant is the end of the line for everyone, and isn’t that the end of everyone’s story?

Is There an Art to Gift Giving?

Is there an art to gift-giving?

My thoughts on gift-giving are not very impressive. Many of today’s kids are thankless and no matter what you give to them they are going to return anyway. My first question is; What kind of gift is it going to take for them to treasure instead of return it? You’ve probably already asked yourself this question. What are their likes and dislikes? They are not going to be satisfied with something ordinary. If it is ordinary, they can exchange it and buy something for themselves. How about something they have asked you to get for them? Where is the real pleasure in giving something that someone asked you to buy? That sounds routine; as if they’re asking you to pick up a loaf of bread on your way home. Where’s the surprise?

Do you honestly want to buy them something they really don’t need or want another of the same thing? Give cash? You do that every week anyway, what would make that special? Besides, if you give them cash again what are they going to want to do? They are going to want to go right out with their friends and spend it, leaving you alone and feeling used and empty. Continue reading Is There an Art to Gift Giving?

Privacy Policy

Privacy policy

This privacy policy (“Policy”) describes how we collect, protect and use the personally identifiable information (“Personal Information”) you (“User”, “you” or “your”) provided on the https://cmwrites.com website and any of its products or services (collectively, “Website” or “Services”). It also describes the choices available to you regarding our use of your personal information and how you can access and update this information. This Policy does not apply to the practices of companies that we do not own or control, or to individuals that we do not employ or manage.

Collection of personal information

We receive and store any information you knowingly provide to us when you fill any online forms on the Website. You can choose not to provide us with certain information, but then you may not be able to take advantage of some of the Website’s features.

Collection of non-personal information

When you visit the Website our servers automatically record information that your browser sends. This data may include information such as your computer’s IP address, browser type and version, operating system type and version, language preferences or the webpage you were visiting before you came to our Website, pages of our Website that you visit, the time spent on those pages, information you search for on our Website, access times and dates, and other statistics.

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In the event we become aware that the security of the Website has been compromised or users Personal Information has been disclosed to unrelated third parties as a result of external activity, including, but not limited to, security attacks or fraud, we reserve the right to take reasonably appropriate measures, including, but not limited to, investigation and reporting, as well as notification to and cooperation with law enforcement authorities. In the event of a data breach, we will make reasonable efforts to notify affected individuals if we believe that there is a reasonable risk of harm to the user as a result of the breach or if notice is otherwise required by law. When we do we will post a notice on the Website.

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This document was last updated on September 14, 2016

I never put much stock in the comments that people make. Oh wait, I need to say that if people don’t make sincere, or personal comments on something you have written, then there is not a grain of truth, and their comments are insincere.

What’s wrong with stopping and really looking at the photo, article, the way someone is dressed, or whatever you are ready to make a comment? If you do that, then you won’t give comments like, “Good job” or a canned comment such as ones found on WordPress Blogs which this one is and say; “John and Susie think your story was awesome. Now check out their sites and see if you like them just as much.” Sorry folks, I trash most of them. If you are going to compliment someone on something you like, write something. You are supposed to be a writer …. write something.

How about something such as. “Wow, that article stunk. I didn’t like the part about you telling someone to write what they liked and didn’t like.”  Or something like “I love the post on “Fork.” I found that funny and sad at the same time. My stepdad was a good one too.” Now, those are comments that mean something to a writer, a photographer, or any other artist. What is even better would be something like, “Loved the Face of Dementia, my mom had Alzheimer’s and it is sad to watch them go downhill. I give a like and a thumbs up to that difficult subject. More people need to know the stages so they know what they are in for if a loved one has dementia.”

Now, in the second paragraph there is not a grain of truth in that comment. I find it offensive and I would rather they not comment at all.

If you are going to give a comment whether it be a sincere positive one, or a sincere not so good comment, at least make it sincere. Then the one that reads that comment can either feel good and know what their audience thinks or if not enjoyed and told why then the one the comment is meant for; knows what they need to put a more positive spin on. At least then, the comment will have a grain of truth if not a square foot of grains.

Oh, the heck with it. Only write sincere good ones. Who wants to hear sincere bad comments anyway? Seriously, give your sincere comments on something positive or something that touched your heart, or you agree with. That is encouraging to all writers no matter how long or how famous they are. I only hope one thing. I hope I have never written one insincere comment to anyone for anything.

Now the Final Phase

Phase

So another phase of my life ends. We had to sell our beautiful four bedroom home on five acres. One reason was the medical bills that stacked up and the good credit we had at the time. Alzheimer’s had resided with my mother for 12 years by now. Dementia had been diagnosed. No more trips, no more dropping everything and going somewhere. Yes, the carefree phase of our lives had shut the door quickly.

We had entered a new phase. It was one of high medical debt, and maxed out credit cards. There was no end in sight to this new phase either, especially after I fell and broke my shoulder. Five surgeries if the first year alone. My mother had to be moved to a nursing center and I still needed to be with my mom often. She still needed me. I had to be sure that she was taken care of properly. I had to take her laundry home and wash it because her clothes disappeared when they went to the laundry there. Dementia in the first stage was waiting at home for me.

It does sound like I’m whining, but I’m really not. My mom died a few years ago. The dementia is in the late fourth stage, but I don’t mind. Our bills are under control and we now live in a one bedroom apartment. I wouldn’t say that life is good, but for me it is. I still have my husband home with me. I rejoice each day that we are able to communicate and be understood by each other. That is a joy in my life.

In the early years of our marriage, he had to care for me. He did it so lovingly, and never complained. He was there for each medical emergency, and each surgery. Now it is my privilege to care for him. I hope that I can do that with the same love and gentleness that he has done for me all these years. So now begins the final phase of our lives and I will still thank our heavenly father for His Kingdom. The Kingdom we pray for, the Kingdom that will rule over the entire earth. (Rev 21:4) Tells of no more death or tears.