Well Placed

When Bill and I were young, back in the day, we hung out at the park. Our local neighborhood park was down the road and around the corner from our childhood home. It didn`t matter what season it was, the park was our playground.

Most all the kids from our neighborhood gathered there in the summer for free bus rides to the beach and/or recreational programs. The town had 4/5 places assigned for the summer recreational programs, within corresponding neighborhoods.

Wintertime was a blast because the park had two big hills for us to choose from to sled down. We were always instructed to stay away from the water and the bridge yet allowed at very young ages to explore on our own.

Bill being older and stronger would pull me down the road in my sled placed on top of his. Our feet covered with wool socks shoved into wonder bread bags, then our felts that went into our boots that buckled. We sledded for hours but always returned before the streetlights turned on.

Streetlights were the universal signal you best be getting home. I wonder how many children today have that same curfew?

We`d peel off our one-piece snowsuits in the garage, before Dad turned it into a dining room and extra bedroom.

On this one particular evening Bill beat me to the garage, shut the door and locked it. That was his shenanigans, his way of being funny and well annoying to his baby sister. He proudly stood behind the garage door windowpane with his hands by his ears, like a moose, sticking his tongue out, laughing.

I was not finding it funny to say the least. He was, oh - 9/10, me 7/8. I pounded on the door and yes, the window yelling at him to unlock the blanking door. Much to mine and his surprise my fist went straight through the window. That`s when our arrival had been noticed.

That cost me a scolding, (I don`t remember getting the belt) and a month of allowance. (one dollar a week) I had to pay for my loss of anger, and it taught me a lesson. One that I would be reminded of from time to time, when I let my temper get the best of me.

In tenth grade I had a teacher (Mr. Kassian) who once told me when I had gotten upset in class from being picked on.

“Miss (my maiden name) you best control that temper before that temper controls you!”

I have never forgot him or that statement. I have worked hard at controlling my temper, so much so I choked down every feeling of anger until I was ready to erupt. That is when I learned to use my anger to create to advocate to push me past giving up. I gave it over to God (a higher power, universe) however you may look at it and controlled my reactions to be that of value than destruction. Now, I am not saying I managed things over night, but I did learn I paid a price when I let my anger consume me. “The Beast” found on OSJ is a prose written about such anger.

Now, if my anger shows, I am usually backed into a corner I have begged the person not to place me in. I have tried to diffuse, advocate or avoid those people or places or things. Today that gets harder given the state of our country and the hate so easily tossed about.

Bill may be coming home this weekend. I am far from angry; I am cautiously ecstatic! He has cheated death, one more time.

What had me thinking about the story I shared today with you, is one Bill and I laugh about this the other day. He said “Write about that Deb. You're a good writer, I couldn`t do what you do.”

I felt both pride that he thinks that of me and sorrow he still feels less than of himself. Though in life he has been challenged he has been a good man with many great attributes.

The anger I felt today was in reading (catching up on) that dump put out a video on Gaza and is selling gold card citizenship and wouldn`t rule out selling citizenship to Russian oligarchs. It infuriated me. I did what I don`t normally on FB and I didn`t and don`t care how many friends/family, etc. I lose, shared the post and said my peace on what I felt. They could scroll past or unfriend, but to stay silent as to not rock the boat with family I cannot. I have some that are very close that I love, but I too the right to speak my views. I have seen enough of theirs.

To share anything would be to say I am putting anger to good use not bad. The fear of my brother losing his medical care would mean certain death, sooner than he himself has struggled to live for. How long could I support us if they took soc. security away, for us both? I know we are not alone in this struggle of survival, yet we will hold our heads up and continue.

Bill just called they are finally moving him to the PCU unit! A step down from ICU and then in a few days, HOME. 💞

Thank you all for your kind words and understanding during this difficult time since his hospitalization.

✨Be the Light 💞🫂