Blood Type

Cary sighed and flopped down onto her bed dramatically. Her parents were probably the worst parents in the history of lame parents.

(Yes, she was exaggerating. Yes, she was aware of it. No, she wasn’t going to stop.)

They weren’t going to answer her questions. They weren’t even going to acknowledge that she had questions and that they would have to answer them at some point.

(They were likely to actually go to their graves holding onto this secret, she suspected. It seemed to be that kind of secret and it was driving her nuts.)

It had started with a simple Biology assignment for school. They were learning about genetics and how they affect blood types within the family. Her parents were both Type O and she was Type AB. She looked like her parents and she was fairly certain that her mother hadn’t cheated on her father.

(They just didn’t have that vibe and what prodding she’d done had shown up as her parents being completely faithful to one another. And that they were both very aware that she apparently wasn’t theirs,thank you very much.)

Their manner towards her had never been any different from the way they treated her younger brother.

(Who was their biological child. She’d been there when her parents had explained why Mommy’s tummy was getting bigger and why she was going to have a younger brother. That had been a very traumatic thing to realize when she’d first gone through puberty and realized just what her parents would have to have done in order for her younger brother to be there at all.)

“This is going to bug me until the day I die if I don’t figure it out,” she mumbled to herself.

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“Dawn” by my mother

My first books of poetry were given to me by my mother. At the time I was studying different styles of poetry in elementary school and found that I loved it, even if it was one of those things that I wasn’t the best at. It wasn’t until several years later, when cleaning out some boxes from the storage room, that I found a slim red-covered notebook with ‘A Collection of Poetry’ written on the front page in my mom’s elegant cursive.

(Seriously, her cursive is so beautiful that it reminds me of calligraphy. I lament the fact that cursive wasn’t as important during my learning years as it obviously was during hers.)

Inside of the notebook held a lovely collection of works that my mom had written throughout her life. Many of them were written for people that I have never met, but my favorite one is the first one inside the notebook. It goes as follows:

Dawn

 

I saw my daughter just today,

All rosy pink and new.

My precious little gift from God

Shone fresh as morning dew.

 

I saw my daughter just today,

Her chubby hands still held

Her favorite doll, a circus clown,

All ragged, smiling still.

 

I saw my daughter just today

With pigtails curling round,

And tied with ribbons, white and pink,

Dressed in my evening gown

 

I saw my daughter just today

With rouge and lipstick on,

High heels and all the latest styles:

My little girl was gone.

 

I saw my daughter just today,

A woman now, full grown.

Her beauty took my breath away;

Oh, how the years have flown!

 

I saw my daughter just today,

So still and white with death.

I pled with God with all my heart,

“Please, do not take her yet!”

 

I saw my daughter just today,

She talked of memories sweet,

And of tomorrows we will share

When once again we meet.

 

I saw my daughter just today,

A promise in her eyes.

“Someday I’ll be with you again,

We’ll say no more goodbyes.”

 

I saw my daughter just today.

“Keep close to God,” she said.

“Draw comfort from the things He says

And death won’t be so sad.”

 

I saw my daughter just today.

“It’s time for me to go.

My love for you is always here

Because you loved me so.”

She wrote this for her cousin when she lost her daughter. I don’t think I was even born at the time. She says she was cooking dinner at the time she received the call from her sister-in-law. Mom had to stop what she was doing, sit down and just write this.

“It just flowed.”

I still can’t read this poem without crying no matter how old I have gotten and how many times I’ve traced her words.

Written for Suzie’s Weekly Challenge: http://suzie81speaks.com/2014/06/08/weekly-word-challenge-books-poetry-and-prose/

Cover the Emptiness

image: wax115 on rgbstock.com

She pulled on her father’s boots last, taking the time to do up all the laces and then tuck the excess into the side around her feet. The boots were large, larger than she had initially thought.

But at the same time, they were just the right size.

Her father wasn’t at home. In fact, he hadn’t been at home for a very long time. He likely wouldn’t be home for several more months, if he came home at all.

So she would pull on his boots and walk around the house in them all day long. If she had to leave to do anything, the boots would go with her, slowing her down and reminding her that they didn’t fit.

They would never fit.

But it would keep her father closer to her throughout the day.

She would do this every month for one whole day until her father came back from his tour of duty.

Mary smiled as she clomped around the house, making enough noise to cover up the emptiness.

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Written for today’s Light and Shade Challenge: http://lightandshadechallenge.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/light-and-shade-challenge-monday-26th.html

Also written in honor of not only the men and women that serve our country but their families who are without during their service.

Thank you.

Dust Bunny, Hop Hop – Poetry Prompt 14

Dirt will puff with the lightest of touch

Unless of course the scent comes out

So don’t complain when by she will slouch

There really is no need to shout.

 

Because she will rub up against you

Until you smell as dusty and she does.

Next her mother will come on around,

Necessary it will be, for she will tongue bath you.

Yes she will try to reach all around, but still you’ll smell dusty.

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Written for another of Pooky’s poetry prompts: http://pookypoetry.wordpress.com/2014/05/14/poetry-prompt-14-describe-a-smell/

My cat’s name is Usako, which means baby bunny, as she had rather large ears as a kitten would spend most of her time jumping around. As an adult, she likes to roll around in the dry dirt out back and then come in. It’s not always easy to tell when she’s done this as she’s a grey and orange and white cat. (She’s mostly grey.) So, she’s my little ‘dust bunny.’

Nap Time

She was tired.

She snorted and slipped further into her funk.

Of course she was tired! She was always tired! This was the kind of thing that was common  when you were a single parent with no one to count on!

Again, she snorted, but this time she heard the sound of the washing machine click off. She didn’t really have the time to sit and complain when there were things she needed to get done while her daughter was taking a much needed nap.

Now if only she could take a nap herself…

A Perfect Chance

There wasn’t much to start this new life, but she did have something. She had a small amount of money in her new name and a place to live where she didn’t have to worry about rent. She even had a fake life set up with a background that explained some of what she had been through, but mostly, she just had a chance.

She glanced back at the corner of the little apartment that was now home and smiled at her little daughter, already asleep.

It had been a long day after a string of long days. She hadn’t found a babysitter for the weekends or even after school hours were over. The Daycare that her job provided only lasted during high school hours and maybe for a little bit after. It never lasted quite long enough for her to finish all of her work in the library, but it was enough for now.

Kelly was an energetic child, but she could also sit quietly and look through different picture books or draw. She had been very obedient since their move to this new place, but Hailey was slightly unsure just how long this would last. She needed to find a babysitter to watch Kelly soon or she’d never be able to find time for her own schooling.

While Hailey had the transcripts for her skills that would have been learned in a regular high school environment, she did not have much further education than that. She wanted more for her daughter, but she would never get there if she did not have the means to do so; getting a better job required a better education with required time she did not have. She loved her daughter, loved her more than she had ever thought possible for a child that she was actually going to get a chance to raise.

She had heard in whispers from some of the servants in her past life talk about the joys of children, children that you got to keep an raise and put some bit of your soul into. She had never dared dream that she would ever have a chance at such a life where that was possible and now that she did…

It was wonderful, every breathtaking, terrifying minute of it.

---

Written for today’s Daily Post prompt. There was going to be more, but I can’t seem to get another bit out for this scene and I’ve learned in the past that trying to write when the scene is done always ends badly (and very choppy).

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/01/15/daily-prompt-perfect/

Compassion Through Technology

As you’re sitting at your computer or holding your phone or reading this on a tablet or eReader pretending to be a tablet (you know they are, I know they are, the eReader knows they are), are you thinking about the technology that you’re using? What all are you using it for? What does it mean to you that you can talk to your family wherever you and they are provided that they also have access to the same technology that you’re currently using?

I know that I didn’t often think about the technology that I use daily and just what it means. There are times that I have:

-being able to call 911 for my mother when she had a stroke

-keeping in contact with family when they are all scattered throughout the States doing something with their lives

-being able to attend college even though I’m only awake at night for a few years

-knowing that my niece’s eye was saved from infection because of medical technology that didn’t exist when I was her age at the time

But I don’t think about these things often. I just plop down on the sofa and pull up my laptop to surf through the internet in a way that I couldn’t when I was a teen.

It’s because of this surfing that I do now as an adult that I came across a use for technology that combines several of the things that I only sometimes think about.

A young woman came to the United States with her new husband last year in 2013. She was smart and educated and was looking to further her education in Minnesota. She wasn’t able to do that, but it is what happened after she was admitted into the hospital that really made me think about the technology that I take for granted every single day.

This young woman, Sanaz Nezami was sent to the hospital with severe head injuries and due to severe swelling of her brain there was no blood flow in her brain. Her family lived in Iran and they would never be able to make it through all the red tape in order to make it over in time for her funeral, much less be able to visit her in the hospital. The hospital staff were able to set up a laptop with a webcam in her room to make it possible for her family to keep tabs on her and to see her.

This isn’t something you think of for use with our technology unless it’s dealing with business or the military. Everyone involved were civilians and/or hospital staff. It was a simple laptop to laptop connection that is easily setup using devices bought at a Wal-mart.

I have heard of families being able to attend a wedding via the web, but have never seen a family from so far away be able to keep eyes on their daughter/sister/cousin/friend who was in the hospital and dying. The staff at the hospital would make sure to talk not only with the patient who was never able to respond but with her family at the same time and complete requests for said family so that their daughter/sister/cousin/friend knew she was loved even as she was dying and unable to see or react or possibly even hear for herself. She would hopefully be able to feel the fingers that brushed back her hair and placed a gentle kiss on her brow before she died.

Source:

http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=157&sid=28203588&title=nurses-family-bond-online-as-iranian-dies-in-us