Georgia's Day

Tuesday June 28 Georgia turns 46 years young.
Happy Birthday My Love.

The years I have spent with you have been
by far the best of my life. I am looking
forward to many more wonderful years with you.
Many more birthdays to share our love together.

June 28 is Georgia's day....
I told her we are leaving our house at noon.
The kids and I have a wonderful afternoon
planned.

Enjoy your day MY LOVE!!
Enjoy your family's love for you.
Happy Birthday to the best woman in the world!!

Family

Ok, I have Jaded to thank for this one....
I copied this from another blog that Jaded had posted.
Thanks for the spark Jaded.

I asked for strength that I might achieve;
He made me weak that I might obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things;
I was given grace that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy;
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life;
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I received nothing that I asked for, all that I hoped for.
My prayer was answered, I was most blessed
--Author Unknown. (Quoted in What to Do When You Pray,
by Lucille Walker)

My family is in North Georgia. Annie, John, Katherine
and Hilary. I love them with all I am.
I do have other family in the Carolinas. Sister,
brother, aunts, uncles, cousins,
nieces, one nephew. I love them as well.
I read the above prayer and immediately thought
of my sister.
Her birthday was June 19, same day as fathers day,
her anniversary June 20.
I told myself to call her, I did not.
I do not know why except for the distance
between us...not in miles but within us.

This distance is painful. She and I were close
growing up and closer as adults. We lived
through horrific abuse and remained close.
She moved out from home the same summer she
graduated high school. Worked a full time job,
and put herself through college. She never
returned to our little South Carolina town to
live. She never moved back home.

She married a wonderful man. Had a wonderful daughter.
After multiple miscarriages, heartache, pain they
gave up on having another baby. A year of my sisters life
was spent in a deep depression...I found this out later.
How did I not know?
They began foster parenting.
A six month old beautiful baby girl. One day there
and soon gone, adopted. They got another beautiful
little girl, after several years of foster parenting
her, they adopted her. This beautiful child came with
baggage, a early childhood of abuse. They dealt with
all the baggage beautifully. I do not mean baggage
as a bad term here folks....just a word.
Still today because of her adopted parents she
is a beautiful girl.

When our Mom got sick we were there. Both daughters
by her side through 2 open heart surgeries, only 30
days apart. The night before the first surgery
my sister and I talked with Mom. We told her we loved
her. We thanked her for the morals she gave us.
We thanked her for enduring all the pain and abuse
in her marriage to our father.
We asked what she wanted in case she died during or
after this surgery. It was the hardest thing we
ever said to her. She told us she was scared.
She told us what she wanted to be buried in, the
songs she wanted sung at her funeral....just in case.

That just in case did not happen with this surgery or the
next open heart surgery. But shortly after the
second our Mom died. Just over 2 months after
the second surgery my stepdad found her in the floor
of her living room. My sister and I both talked to
her that night on the phone. She did not feel well.
I offered to go there, it was only 30 minutes away.
She said no, you have to work tomorrow. I had just gone
back to work after being off 7 weeks with her. My
sister and I both were there.
I talked with my sister that night at 10:00pm.
I asked her "What are we going to do with Mom,
she is not getting any better". She nor I could
answer that question.

I still to this day have a guilt of not going
that night. I went to bed exhausted at 12:30
that night with Mom on my mind. The phone rang
at 12:50, my aunt. Shorty my stepdad came in from
work and found Willie in the floor. He called me,
I have called the rescue squad and now you.
My reply was I will meet you at the hospital.
I called my sister and a friend. I did not want
to take that drive alone.
I picked her up and sped to the hospital about 25
miles away. I got there before the ambulance.

The doctor recognized me and asked what I was doing
there. I told her and she asked did I want to be in the
room when Mom arrived. Oh ,yes please that will be
easier than sitting in the waiting room.
This doctor knew me because she had taken care
of my Mom 2 nights prior in the ER.

The ambulance arrived....one quick glance and I
knew. Mom was dead. We worked the code, yes we.
I did CPR, started another IV, gave medications
and watched this doctor drain fluid out of my Mothers
heart. After that I told her to stop. It was over.
She asked are you sure? I want you to know we did all we
could....I know, it's over.

I walked to the waiting room and told my family.
Husband, daughter, sister in law, friend. Willie has died,
she did not make it. I will never forget that feeling.

Back to my sister. We stuck it out together, stayed
close. Together with her husband we did what had
to be done, the arrangements were made.

Many, many tears, and still tears today.
We went through her things, most were
gifts to other people. All got to choose
what they wanted.

A few years after Mom's death, I finally
became the person I was meant to be all my life.
My regret is that she did not know this
before her death. She never got to see my happy.
I went to my sisters house and told her.
She was the first person I told.
Sister I am gay, I am a lesbian.
Shock on her face, love in her words.
You are my sister, I love you that will
never change. Also, she said that she does not
agree with this lifestyle. But, she would
love and support me.

I moved to North Georgia to be with the love
of my life, Annie. My sister and I kept in touch.
She and my closest aunt visited our home in
June of 99. I move here in April of 99.
It was a lovely visit. Enjoyed by all.

The calls decreased, the contact decreased.
I don't know why...still don't know why.
The next time I saw my sister was at
our wedding in September nearly 2 years ago.

We now don't call each other unless something
happens. Why?

I sent her an e-mail this morning. Sparked by
a prayer Jaded posted on a blog comment.

I told her what was in my heart, on my mind.
I told her I love and miss her in my life.

Annie thinks they think it is her fault.
It is not. Annie has done nothing wrong.
It is my sister and I that have not kept
in touch. It is our fault. Annie had told me
many times....Jan, call your sister,
Jan call your aunt.
I have not called. Her birthday was this
past Sunday. I did not call.

I regret not calling. It can not be changed.

Neither of us took the time.
Both of us love each other.

The prayer helped....maybe now
I can and will call.

I love you sis.

Oddities

I find it odd that every human being is not
treated equally.

I find it odd that the government makes it
their business in how I live my life.

I find it odd that all people male or female
can not legally marry whom they so choose.

I find it odd that all people can not get
spousal benefits from their employers.

I find it odd that America choose our present
President.

I find it odd that America is STILL at war.

I find it odd that billions of tax payers
dollars are being spent needlessly in a
war that should have been over long ago.

I find it odd that the people who have died
in this war DIED for what reason?

I find it odd that a cure for cancer has not
been found.

I find it odd that a cure for HIV and AIDS
has not been found.

I find it odd that a cure for diabetes has not
been found.


I find it odd that a cure for the common cold
has not been found.


I find it odd that a cure for a multitude of
other diseases has not been found.

I find it odd at the cost of medical care
today.

I find it odd that so many people choose not
to work for a living.

I find it odd that the people who choose not
to work want the working people to support them.

I find it odd that the government chooses to
support so many people who choose not to work.

I find it odd that the government expects those
of us who DO work to pay for those who choose
NOT to work.

I find it odd that those who truly need government
assistance have a hard time getting said
assistance.

I find it odd that the elderly who have worked
all their lives struggle to get by.

I find it odd that the government wants to take
away social security benefits.

I find it odd that when we say love...do we
really mean love?

I find it odd that when we say Christian,
do we really mean Christian?

I find it odd that when we say love thy neighbor
as thy self do we?

I find it odd that people can not just get along.

I find it odd that some say one thing then do
another.

I find it odd that my friend can not get her
job back.

I find it odd that people do not believe that
alcoholism is a disease.

I find it odd that child abuse exists.

I find it odd that spousal abuse exists.

I find it odd that abuse exists at all.

I find it odd that my SPOUSE could love
my oddities.

I FIND IT ODD........

777

The number just a minute ago on my counter
was 777. What a great number....the best ever.
Ok now no one go to my blog or you will be
responsible for ruining my number....oh
wait if you are reading this you have already
changed my wonderful 777 numbers.

It's ok...just thought I would throw out
a little humor....weird as it may be...LOL

Jimmy and Willie

Jimmy and Willie are my parents names.
Married in September 1956. I guess they
loved each other at that time. Why else
would 2 people get married...yes, yes,
I know baby on the way but, that was not
the case. She was not pregnant when they
got married. My father Jimmy (James)
drank heavily before the marriage. This
continued after the marriage. I still
don't understand why she married him.
I did ask her that very question once and
her reply was I thought I could get him to
quit. Ok Mama was my reply.

Mama that's what we called my Mom. My 2
siblings and I...it was Mama.

Nine months after marriage my sister came
along. Mom got pregnant on their honeymoon.

My dad was in the navy. I do not remember
the details of why he got out of the navy.
After he was out he worked about 25 miles
from home at the "bleachery". He rode to work
with 2 other men. One day when either going or
coming while a front seat passenger and saw
they were about to wreck he braced his knees
on the dash. This impacted the rest of his
life. His knees forced his hips backwards,
crushing both hips. He would never be the
same again. Was told he may never walk or
work again.

This happened before I was born.

Surgery and a long hospitilization later...
he walked with crutches. Always those damn
crutches. As a result he drank and drank.
Unable to work....unheard of to get disability.
That took 2 years.

My Mom worked full time, took care of a baby
girl. I don't know if my brother was around
as yet. Took care of our house and all of
his needs. His bed was in our living room...
a hospital bed for quite some time.

I was born in 1960 at our closest hospital
about 20 miles from our home. Thankfully
the doctor that delivered me allowed people
to pay him in ways other than money.
Dr. Griggs was his name. I know that people
often gave him chickens, eggs and gosh knows
what else for medical services payment.

Doc Griggs was an honest man, a kind man and
a friend to all he cared for.

The first memory of my daddy, I believe I was
about five years old. He picked me up and put
my face under the kitchen sink, face up water on.
I remember hearing my Mama scream at him. Still to
this day I do not know WHY?? Other than he was drunk.
Why would a dad do this to his own child?

My Grandmother (dads Mom) died when I was 7 years old.
There were wonderful memories tied that sweet kind
woman, my Grandma Ethel. She lived next door to us.
Mama, Grandma Ethel me and my 2 siblings went
to our baptist church every Sunday. Grandma did not
drive. She rode with us to church to the grocery
store. Mama took her every where she need to go.
Her husband my Grandfather died before my
parents were married.

In may of 1967 Grandma Ethel died. Brain tumor.
I will never forget the Sunday morning we went
to pick her up for church and she came out dressed
in work clothes...a dress and bonnet with a hoe
in her hand. She was going to work in her flowers.
She did not know it was Sunday although Mama
talked with her the day before and said she would
pick her up the next morning for church.
I think all of our hearts sank that Sunday
morning. My sister Leigh talked about this
with me as an adult and she being older
remembered some other things Grandma had been
doing that was off kilter.

They found a brain tumor. When I don't know
or how long she lived after I don't remember.

I do remember than when she died my daddy may
as well have died with her. He made our life a
living hell after that. With his drinking it was not
wonderful anyway. Mama did the best she could.

It took me many years into my adult life to
fully realize just how abusive that man really
was. He beat my Mother, he beat all 3 of his
children. I don't mean spank....beatings and
always when he was sober with the exception
of the sink at 5 years old.

Christmas after Grandma died...Nonexistent.
Well ok it did exist. The first year after she
died at Christmas all 3 of us got a new pair
of PJ's and one hundred dollars each.
I was 8 years old...did not know what one
hundred dollars was let alone what to do with it.
Damn you man, I wanted toys. My very own toys.
Not ones that was handed down from siblings...
new toys to call my very own.

The only good thing I remember this man (daddy)
doing for me was having a pond built. That was
fantastic. The many hours I spent there were
better than heaven to me as a kid. It was
my escape, my out. Time alone with out him there...
no beatings just fishing...alone me myself and I.

More to come...just later....

Odd Numbers

Okay call me weird. But I have this thing
with odd numbers. Don't like even numbers
and refuse to use them. If you will notice
the times on all ( what few of them their are)
my blogs...they are odd numbers and always will
be.
It took Annie about 5 years to notice I count
to seven with my fingers. Repeatedly count
to SEVEN. She ask me one day what I was doing?
I am counting of course...to 7. What are
you talking about? I count to seven with
my fingers, like a drummer drums.
I also count to seven with my teeth.
It drives her nuts.

As we sit on the couch watching a movie
or driving in the car my fingers are
moving in rhythm counting to seven.
Any and every variation that you can
reach seven.

If there is an even number I find a way
to make it odd...Now this really drives
her nuts. Lets say there are 6 cars in
a row....then it's 7 because it's all one
group of cars...you see 6+1=7.
Same if it were 8...8+1=9
A car tag with numbers that add up to
26...well that's easy. It's 26 and one
complete number...26+1 of course=27
and so on and so forth.

Am I driving you nuts yet???

I have done this for as many years as
I can remember....odd numbers good...
even numbers bad.

I had to use one even number once and
hated it....the number 8 was my medic
number when I worked EMS. It changed from
13 to 8 when I became assistant supervisor.
I asked, I begged to keep 13.
No, you can't keep 13. All supervisors
and administration have number 8 or less.
truly broke my heart.
I even tried to trade with someone else
for an odd number....boss would not let me
do that either. It would be too confusing
for everyone to change the numbers. He
did ask me one day what I had against
the number 8...it's even. SO?....
So, what it's even and I don't do even.
He just laughed and told me to go away.

I still don't do even. After all these years,
after all those numbers. Odd it is and must be.

Yes, go ahead....call me weird. Everyone else
does. It's ok I like weird too.

Acording to my computer clock this post
was completed at 10:56....changed.

Why Nursing???

I graduated from high school in Small town South Carolina
in 1978. Average student, could have been better...with a
little application of my brain. I mostly just wanted out.

My first job after high school was at a yarn mill...second
shift and I hated every minute of it. Although it did pay
fairly well, it was production and I could not get my
hands to move fast enough to suit my coworker.
This lady had been there for over 20 years and made
yarn extremely fast....My job was to wrap paper bands
around the yarn and box it up....boring yes, I know.

This comes back around to softball...see it was summer
and I played ball. Second shift does not go hand in hand
with playing ball. I had another job lined up for first shift
starting on Monday. Now it's Thursday and I have a
ballgame. I asked to get off early and was met with a NO.
Well ok then could you get that woman off my back.
She keeps telling me I am making her lose money.
My supervisor stated he could not do anything about
that....ok fine then I QUIT. You can't quit....
Oh but, yes I can and I just did.

It was payday so I asked for my check....Again, you
can't just quit. Yep can and did....got my check and
off to the ball field.

On Monday I started my new job....I was a service girl.
Not that kind of service....It was a sewing plant and I
gave the women that did the sewing their work.
I hated that job as well...but hey it was first shift.

After about 2 years of this A guy that knew my Mother
asked if I would be interested in helping him in his
business....he was a plumber. Yeah, cool this sounds
more interesting than what I was currently doing.

So off I go to learn hands on how to be a plumber.
You just would not believe the things I got myself into.
That in itself is another blog.

I was a plumbers assistant for about 2 years. One day a
lady at church...one of those southern baptist small
town churches ask me. Do you want to take the
entrance test for nursing school? Yeah, sure when
is it. Tomorrow she stated. Wow that soon...

I took the day off and drove with this lady the 25
miles. We both took the test. She passed and I
failed.....I got up the courage to take it again...
This time I passed.

We got into the same class together. It was
15 weeks of classroom then morning class and
afternoon clinicals. One full year of school.

Now the lady from small town church....well
after a few weeks she quit. Not me...onward I
go.

My instructor was a sister to one the doctors
at our small town hospital 25 miles from my home.
She was the most strict woman I had ever met.
Starched white dress, boobs that stood at
attention, nursing cap on her head even in the
classroom.

When it came time for clinicals, she told everyone
they had to wear dresses, white nursing shoes and
the CAP. Ok I can deal with everything except the
dress. I know previous students wore pants.

Mrs. Matthews, I don't want to wear a dress. I
would rather wear pants. Well then young lady,
you can't participate in clinicals. Ok well then,
I guess I will just have to quit. You would quit
because of a dress....Well yes Ma'am I would.
I know that others have worn pants and thats
what I want. She finally gave in and I got the
dreaded white and light blue pin striped pants.
Along with the same hat.

Mrs. Mathews made me do everything first.
She could be described as a bear. I succeeded
at doing it first. I made my way...Proved that
I could to everything she dished out.

One day I was making my patients bed, you know
the hospital corners....we did not have fitted
sheets. My instructor came in to check the bed and
said nothing just ripped the sheets off said...do
it again. I did without saying a word. She again
ripped the sheets off and said do it again.
All this in front of the patient who was sitting
in the chair. I asked her to step outside into the
hallway for a word.
I got up the courage to say...Mrs. Matthews
there was nothing wrong with that bed either
time that you ripped off the sheets. I will not
make that bed again. If you want it made then
you make it. She looked at me shaking in my
shoes and said.....fine Ms Hicks...I will
make it. Good job...The bed both times did
look great. This was a test to see how many times
you would do it before saying anything to me.
You passed. Oh great....now may I go to the
restroom and clean out my underpants...please.

It was quite an adventure, fun often times, always
hard. Great people as classmates. There were 8
that actually finished out of ten. All 8 of us
passed boards. At last count only 2 of us were
actually working in nursing but, that was about
10 years ago.

Much has been learned over the past 23 years.
Many heartfelt hugs and tears by patients and
families. Sometimes tears caused by doctors...
a lot of whom can be jerks, many very kind.
It's all been good....great. I love what I do, it's
who I am....helping others, It's being me.


On a side note Annie added my favorite blogs
to my side bar. If you aren't listed and would
like to be....send me a note and I will
have her do it for me...I am not computer savvy.

Everyone have a great day.