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Posts Tagged ‘mom’

A friend of mine has been struggling with money situations. I’ll call her Molly, though that’s not her name. Long story short, Molly’s parents are crazy and basically want nothing to do with her right now. Seriously, even as I told the story to my parents, my mom was like “what the heck.”

So she doesn’t have any help from her parents. A friend of ours and Molly rented a house together because our friend needed to move out of her ex-boyfriends apartment and the house was cheaper and more convenient than some of the two-roomed apartments they found. Now, our friend is moving to live with her dad, and Molly doesn’t have the money to put a down-payment on a new single apartment, because you have to pay rent and a half to even be able to move in. The single-roomed apartment she had before they got the house ran at about $425 a month…so she would have to pay $650 to move back in….

Plus she has to pay rent yet for the house they are livin in, which i think was about $350. That’s $1,000 by itself. THEN she has bills for her phone, food, insurance, all that hunky dory junk.

Plus, she is doing part time at college, so she doesn’t even have time to get a second job.

It’s a mess. A friend of Molly’s said she could move in to her apartment, but it is 20 minutes away from Molly’s job, and Molly doesn’t have a car. The house they have rented out is in walking distance of her job. You can’t even take a bus to Molly’s job from her friend’s apartment like Molly used to do

Why am I telling you this? This is why.

In her mailbox at church, Molly got a couple hundred dollars worth of gift cards to places so she can buy food and stuff. A friend of hers gave her a hundred dollar bill. I’m putting money in a card and telling her she has to use it for bills.

Molly may be in a tight place right now, and even without any help from her family, she has people that are looking out for her.

If you are having a hard time, don’t think that you’re all alone. We are all blessed with people in our lives to keep us sane, keep us alive, keep us healthy. Don’t be afraid to ask for a little help from the people you are close to, because they don’t want you struggling any more than you do.

If you aren’t struggling right now, take a look at even the faces of strangers around you. Some of them are struggling more than you know. Maybe pay from someone’s gas, their food at a drive-in, their groceries at WalMart. You can make someone’s day better just by being generous. We are living in hard times, and though there is much we all disagrees on, we should be willing to help those in need.

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I finally feel certain of where I want my writing to lead.

I’m sure you have all heard by now of the Sandy Hook Elementary school shooting that happened this morning. First and foremost, i offer my condolences, my prayers, my heart, my hugs, my respects to the children that have found their place in heaven and for their families that were left down here. I smile as I imagine Jesus taking their hands and showing them His kingdom, but I bow my head for the families that have to mourn their children. No parent should have to go through something like that. For some, it may have been their first child and maybe even their only child.

I have thought a lot about the idea of suicides and school shootings for the past couple years, and have a feeling that I need to use my writing to reach the people that may take their own lives or do more shootings in the future. There will be bullying in the future, there will be rejection, there will be depression, but I want to be someone who can bring some peace to their frustrations or pent up issues and grudges that are sometimes the reasons that lead to these tragedies. I was an outcast throughout high school, though I have two very dear friends I owe my sanity to.

An old classmate of mine and I were talking about how there needs to be more life lessons taught in schools. Most of our speakers only talked about drinking and driving, which is very important too, but it’s not the only issue. We have people that try to get people to stop bullying, but very few people who talk about how to deal with bullying and whatever else. All through high school, I held grudges on people in my class, and I am still dealing with those grudges now. They fester and build when you don’t deal with them, when you don’t talk to someone about your frustrations  when you don’t know how to forgive someone you hate.

Though many hate the man that killed the children, I yearn to understand what led him to do such a thing. I assume there may have been family problems since he shot his mother, but to continue to kill children…it shocks me, as much as other school shootings have. For a couple kids, they aren’t getting any love at home, some get too much love, and then they don’t know how to handle rejection.  Rejection shapes us, teaches us. If this happens to our kids, we need to help them through it, not shield them from the evils of the world. If we do, then once they are out on their own, they won’t know what to do.

I want to help them through my writing. I want to bring them stories with people who may be in their position, with people who find that they are stronger than the struggles that they go through, people who choose to be better than the people that put them down. I want them to read my blog, my books, my poetry, my short stories, listen to my songs…anything that may begin to change their minds just enough to put the gun down for one more day, to loosen the rope from their necks. We need to lead them away from plans of death and destruction.

This is my mission. This is what I will strive for until my own death.

If you know of anyone that may need a friend to talk to, please have them email me. I would love to talk, I would love to guide in whatever way I can.

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I’ve been living in this waiting room;
watching wheelchairs and white coats,
paging through old People magazines,
and mechanically munching vending machine Doritos.
Gnawed nails thrum the desk,
keeping time with the clock,
for sterile scents and elevator music
can’t ease the impatient.
Grandpa sleeps in a white room somewhere
hidden from our searching eyes.
Dad withdraws from a Vikings game
as Mom knits a third scarf.
I pace along someone else’s trail,
cutting open more useless worries
while downing the supply of Folgers,
permanent shadows etched under persistent eyes.
A pale face pauses at the door.
Lungs suffocate, drowning.
There has been a complication, he starts.
Knives slash into my swollen heart like an operation site.
How do you prepare for Goodbye?

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