Write Your OWN Story

Sweet Rosemary

Rosemary looked plain enough. She was just a common baby doll, with plastic hands, feet, and head, and a body made of pink fabric stuffed with lumpy cotton. She usually wore a pink-and-white striped suit with a clock on it, even though she had other clothes. Sometimes I think pink was her favorite color.

But Rosemary was no ordinary doll. She had a sweet disposition. She had personality, she had feelings. And she was so affectionate, just what this little girl needed.

Rosemary and I had adventures together. She understood me when no one else did. She was always there beside me when times were bad. I loved Rosemary more than any material item I'd ever had. I hope she knew that.

The day came when Rosemary had lost too much of her stuffing to be operated on successfully. I'll never forget the day she died. My mother was at the kitchen sink, and behind her I saw Rosemary in the garbage, covered with food debris and used tea leaves and greasy paper towels. My heart stopped and then broke.

Soon my parents gave me another baby doll. She looked a lot like Rosemary. I named her Nadine. But we never bonded, because Nadine was just a doll. Being given Nadine after Rosemary was gone was like being given a stuffed dog after your puppy died. No one could ever take Rosemary's place.

Rosemary was the doll with something extra. And I miss her still.

Written by my 16-year-old self.

Copyright 1976-2012 Faith Louise

Nadine, I remember you. And sweet Rosemary, I will always remember you!

Weight Controls

Images from http://bravegirlsclub.com/archives/8812

Address in the Stars

Today is the 6th anniversary of my Mother's death. Although I function better these days, my grief over her loss is pervasive and continuous. I know she wasn't perfect. I know that some of her faults were great. Not all my memories are good ones.

But, as I've said before, I discovered after she was gone that she was my reference point. When she died, I lost my identity. It had been just the two of us for nineteen years, and she lived with me the last five. And most of that last five, I was her caregiver.

She's part of me, beyond the fact that she gave birth to me. I miss her every day. I start to call her several times a week. And every day, I'm mired in guilt.

I know she's in Heaven. I know we'll be reunited. If I didn't have that certainty, I wouldn't have gone on without her.

"Address in the Stars"
by Caitlin and Will
 
  I stumbled across your picture today
I could barely breathe
The moment stopped me cold,
Grabbed me like a thief.
I dialed your number, but you wouldn't be there
I knew the whole time, but it's still not fair
I just wanted to hear your voice,
I just needed to hear your voice.

What do I do with all I need to say
So much I wanna tell you everyday
Oh it breaks my heart,
I cry these tears in the dark
I write these letters to you,
But they get lost in the blue,
'Cause there's no address in the stars.

Now I'm drivin'
Through the pitch black dark
I'm screaming at the sky
Oh cause it hurts so bad
Everybody tells me
Oh all I need is time
Then the mornin' rolls in
And it hits me again
And that ain't nothin' but a lie.

What do I do with all I need to say
So much I wanna tell you every day
Oh it breaks my heart,
I cry these tears in the dark
I write these letters to you,
But they get lost in the blue,
'Cause there's no address in the stars.

Without you here with me,
I don't know what to do.
I'd give anything
Just to talk to you
Oh it breaks my heart,
Oh it breaks my heart,
All I can do
Is write these letters to you,
But there's no address in the stars.

Dearest Mother, I remember you.

Addendum: Right now, at 1:00 p.m. CST, I'm right back in that hospital room in ICU, holding her hand and sobbing my heart out. Family surrounds me. Mother's already been unconscious for 5 hours due to the morphine drip. Every conversation, every word we shared during the night is cycling through my mind. The last thing I said to her this morning before she fell asleep is, "I won't leave you!" And I guess I never have.

Angels Running

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST and NO REPEATING SONGS, cleverly answer these questions.

Choose your artist: Cher

1. Are you male or female: Dark Lady
2. Describe yourself: You Haven't Seen the Last of Me
3. How do you feel: Still in Love With You
4. Describe where you currently live: Dangerous Times
5. If you could go anywhere, where would you go: If I Could Turn Back Time
6. Your best friends are: Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves
7. You know that: We All Sleep Alone
8. What is life to you: Skin Deep
9. The best advice you can give: Not Enough Love and Understanding
10. If you could change your name, what would it be: Just Like Jesse James
11. Something you are looking forward to: Starting Over

What you're going to call this: Angels Running

I attended a Cher concert once, with my great friend Monica. We had General Admission tickets, which meant standing with scores of others on an expansive grassy slope. Cher can really put on a performance! At one point, the huge monitors played a series of clips from all her movies and included announcement moments from when she won awards. Then Cher said, "I REALLY appreciate all my fans, especially because you've always had to take a lot of #$*# for BEING my fans!" The crowd roared at that one. Unfortunately, the concert was ridiculously short, without explanation. But I'm still a fan.

So Cher, I remember you, but, more importantly, Monica, I so remember you!

Ape Planet

I really looked forward to seeing this movie. As a prequel to the Charlton Heston classic, I knew it could be extraordinary, and the trailers gave evidence to that possibility. But the animal cruelty is so pervasive that I couldn't finish the movie. I was in distress soon after the movie began, and my anxiety kept rising until I was in tears. I finally stopped the movie and sent it back. Am I overly sensitive? So I've been told. But life is too short for me to subject myself to watching animal cruelty as entertainment. I give it 2 stars out of 5.

Jesus vs. Religion

Endless Grief

"Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief." -C.S. Lewis