Writing 101 wants us to focus on a single 24-hour period of time with no backstory, flashbacks or foreshadowing. And right now, you still remain my most recent trigger so, Baily, this one is again inspired by you.
The winds were howling like nothing I’d seen in Seattle before. Sure, I had witnessed tropical rains and storms in other parts of the country but this storm, this felt different. The row of tree trunks just 12-feet’s reach from my porch swayed to and fro. Oaks, huge solid oak trees and a single unexpected Redwood, their trunks stretching first to the right and then to the left a good four feet from center while enormous branches broke and crashed to the ground’s floor, the smaller branches and leaves taking flight in the whirling winds that screamed their anguish through our ears. It was frightening but more than that it was awesome. Not awesome in the cool way. But awesome in the powerful way that leads to devastation. We were stunned into silence watching the fury of nature. I stood there staring and wondering which tree would rip the roof off of my life. As it turned out, only one tree fell with explosive concussions. The tree that ripped the roof of our house that day came only moments later, in a telephone call.
“Is this Memee?”
It was only three words, yet something didn’t seem right. It didn’t feel like an unsolicited sales pitch, a bill collector, or a survey taker. With weary I replied.
“Yes, who’s this?”
I didn’t catch her name. Did she even tell me her name? I’m not sure. I just felt sick and didn’t know why. I heard her words, “Joan’s sister.”
I panicked. Joan, my best friend, oh my God why was this woman calling me?
“Joan! Oh my God, is she okay?” (Joan is my best friend and I love her like a sister. She is family. Her sons are my son’s brothers. Our oldest boys best friends.)
I immediately sobered up unaware for the first time of the massive storm wailing around me.
“Let me turn off the music.”
I was stalling. I needed to sit down. I knew I had to sit down before she said what she called to say. My son, standing just five feet away standing still as a reinforced cement freeway stanchion, a blank stare on his face. He wasn’t on the phone with me but he felt it. He already knew to his soul the words I was about to hear. The music off. I took a deep breath with a prayer in my heart.
“Okay.” I said.
“Baily killed himself.”
The words tore through me as if it was my own son, the son I could see standing before me. In that instant I broke into five billion pieces and then some. I held it together for this woman on the other end of the phone. This woman that was tasked with spreading the news of her beloved nephew’s heartbreaking fate. When I hung up, I looked at my son standing there just steps away knowing yet not knowing. How would I tell him that the person he is closest to in the world would not be his roommate next year in San Francisco, would not be joining in the Mongol Rally they’d been planning for years, would not be standing beside him at his wedding, would not laugh with him or cry with him ever again.
I looked up.
“It’s Baily. He’s dead. He killed himself. I’m so, so sorry, baby!”
And then we brokedown and cried. And cried. And cried. We still cry. We will always cry for your loss and for ours. We miss you.
Baily attended Washington State University where he was majoring in Nuclear Forensics and hoped to help maintain global stability through his work. Always known for his ready smile and gentle demeanor, he was forever ready to lend a hand to anyone in need. He will forever be missed by those that were lucky enough to befriend him and served as a role model to his neighbors and classmates. His strong work ethic was witnessed by all those around him during his 8 summers spent processing fish in Alaska – Legacy.com
Please don’t take your life. Isolation is deadly. Call someone. And if you’re scared to call a friend or family member, please call a hotline or text one! Please do not try to get through “it” on your own. There is no shame in your anguish, pain, and distress.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 24/7: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)
Veterans they understand your experiences are different. Press 1 for a line dedicated just to you.
GLBT National Youth Talk (afternoons & evenings M-S only): 1-800-246-7743
Crisis Text Line 24/7: Text “Go” to 741-741 to get started
If you were touched by this post, perhaps you will see it in your heart to go to the family’s Go Fund Me account and make a donation to fulfill a dream that Baily shared with his younger brother Ben. Baily & Ben’s Bee Sanctuary. Funds will be spent on hives and organic fields for bees to recover from their exposure to toxins, planting organic flower gardens, and providing a place for visitors to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
We come together from far and near a day like none other for this is clear.
Rhubarb pie so tart and sweet, ice cream atop I’m eager… let’s eat!
Innocent babes dressed in tiny suits and sparkly gowns with nothing to do but be passed ’round and ’round.
Television commentators giving the play-by-play because the tv screen is much too far away.
Everyone’s happy and eager to help but the men all they do is whine and yelp!
A big basket of rolls fresh from the oven… please pass the butter before there’s nothin’!
Lingering flavors perfume the air, but loving moments are the contagion that’s there.
Infectious laughter spreads throughout the house as each woman hears the snore of her spouse!
Sleeping angels, old and young, now the juicy gossip has begun!
The cornucopia of thanks and blessings we’ve shared replenishes the fruit of our souls. Goodbye! So long! It’s bittersweet, and as we walk to our cars we’re already eager for next year’s Thanksgiving tradition repeat!
Writing 101 wanted us to delve back into our scrubbed drafts in order to mine for hidden gold and recycle some of our words for poetry. There are at least 3 drafts that I really was passionate about writing and then for whatever reason (lack of time/energy, forgetfulness, life) I never completed and did not post. Abandoning these three disappoints me because they represent some of my BIG thoughts and important moments in my life since beginning this blog. Below you will find a first draft of some BIG thoughts I was trying to tackle in a post and wish I’d kept on with and published properly.
I am not tonight in the mood to rip apart old material. This piece got lost and off track and certainly needed more draft revisions. However, I am going to share it with you as is… unrefined, unfinished and incomplete. Just because, well, just because I am choosing to do so. Perhaps I’ll do the assignment eventually. Perhaps not. They did mention a cool little app that turns your tweets into poetry (but my tweets didn’t turn up anything worth sharing) called Poetweet. You might like to check it out for yourself if this topic doesn’t float your boat or read that brief little post of mine which I just linked from ten months ago. Whatever. I’m just glad you dropped in.
Heaven, I’m in Heaven… or is this Hell? Living in Biblical Prophesy
Dust off your Bibles! The news we are following in our papers, on our televisions and across the Internet are clearly spelled out within its pages. It is not a book of ancient fairytales but a historical reference and a guide for modern day on who, how, and when the horses will ride, ushering out the Church Age and delivering us to Armageddon and Rapture and never-ending grace.
I was a child of the 70s and I have very distinct memories of doing Nuclear War drills in elementary schools. Hide under your desk and cover your eyes… giving us hope that we would survive a blast — I mean, they were telling us we had to be careful not to go blind after all! They were telling us that hiding under a tiny little desk that was open on all sides but above would mean the difference between life and death. These were supposedly “tools” that would keep us safe from harm but in reality it was mass brainwashing of an entire generation of children.
I understand that the fears and wounds of WWII were still fresh on the minds and hearts of the adults. But for me, what those safekeeping tools did was create hysteria that lasted into my 20s. I grew up in the small city of Eureka, California just a few short miles south of town was the Humboldt Bay Power Plant and so when the and in 1983 the graphic and disturbing made-for-television movie, The Day After aired. And everyone in America watched in fear and silence and perhaps to learn more so they could be prepared. I still remember sitting their at my aunt’s house in Illinois (I was visiting over the Thanksgiving week). If I hadn’t been traumatized enough by all of the war drills I’d been forced to participate in during elementary school, this movie solidified my fears. No one in Eureka had survived. Not a single soul. Yep, my Eureka. Eureka, California was nuked in the movie because we had a power plant. From that night on I knew I was doomed. It could happen any time. Every time an air horn sounded (which was probably bi-weekly, or I heard the sound of planes flying overhead in the middle of the night I began sweating and shaking uncontrollably I was triggered: This was it! The bomb was about to be dropped. I was as good as dead.
Now I wonder whatever happened to all of those old air horns. I haven’t heard one sound in decades. I don’t know how I’d react if I heard one, especially if it blared in the middle of the night. I know that when I hear airplanes in the sky I still look up at night and if they awaken me in my sleep as they so often did in my youth, it still evokes fear in me.
Now I view the world as a much, much more evil and hate-filled place. And I do not think it is because I am an adult trying to compare the world of today to the world of a sheltered child. People ARE different. Children ARE different. The World IS on a slippery slope into Hell.
I was not raised with a strong religious background though I have always believed that God has been very active in my life as Jesus also watches over me. And I was never exposed to Revelation prophecies. Until recently, I thought the End Times prophesizers were zealous religious wackos. But as I watch and read the news each day I am becoming more and more convinced that The Bible, the book we think of as past history — if we are among those that view at as having any truth or value at all — is telling the story of what is happening in our world today. All nations are coming together against Israel. Earthquakes are occuring. There are beheadings in the streets, heads on spikes, earthquake swarms at key supervolcano locations and people are holding or wearing signs saying they disavow their God… The world we live in today is scary to think about and Biblical requirements for the coming of the anti-christ and Jesus himself are coming into fruition at an astounding rate.
Sons killing mothers, children shooting children.
This post is dedicated to the children of the world, the sweet innocent ones as well as those poor children who are themselves soldiers in a religious battle that’s tenants they do not understand, a battle between Good and Evil, God and Satan, a battle that will come and go in the manner God has foretold us of. God is timeless therefore he knows the past, the present and the future all at the same time. And as scary as the world is today I am coming to understand that these horrible atrocities we humans are committing against one another and our children must come to pass in order for true peace, harmony and grace to be delivered. I am finally going to be baptised and ask my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to shower me with his gifts and blessings. I hope that you too will keep your eyes open and your lanterns filled.
If you read my entry in last month’s success-themed poetry challenge, Sometimes I Feel, then you probably already have an inkling that I have been in a love-hate relationship with my blog for the past 4 to 5 months.
When I first began my blog I was writing for me. I was living in turmoil and pain and had to excise it so that I could continue to go on breathing. I wrote about my pain and then I joined the Blogging U courses and wrote stuff for that as well. And I received a lot of feedback. I fell in love with that feedback and learned to hunger for it. I felt like I was no longer alone, that people cared about me and I began to heal. However after my courses ended and the angst receded, away went the sense of community I had fallen in love with and begun writing for. Continue reading
How Ironic is it that after throwing a successful poetry party on the challenge theme of “Success,” is it that I then failed to follow through and announce the winner, run her poem AND not post the new poetry challenge on time!
I have been a terrible hostess!
Dear Miss Moore,
I am thrilled to announce (though belatedly) that you won! I know you have been eagerly awaiting the news on who garnered the most votes and secretly hoped that you would come out on top. Well, girl, you did it! So, congratulations on writing the favorite poem. You are officially a successful poet! LOL.
I hope you will forgive my enormous faux pas and consider joining us again for this month’s (not yet posted) poetry linky challenge. The theme will be Love-Hate relationships.
My failure at announcing all of this means that tomorrow, Thursday, I will post this congratulatory/apology letter to my blog. It will be your Thankful Thursday instead of mine 🙂 and then I will run your award-winning poem this coming Sunday so my followers can read your wonderful take on the success theme and hopefully they will in turn visit your blog and discover so much more of your wonderful poetic writings! I will email you the trophy and details about your win, so watch for it!
Again, congratulations, you earned it and they loved it!
“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”
― Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt
It is Words Crush Wednesday once again and I find myself busy with the Writing 101 course that is put out by Blogging U. So last week when I saw that one of our assignments was to “Hook ’em with a quote” I knew immediately I’d be putting that assignment on hold until now.
The quote I have chosen jumped out at me as
And here’s why: I had just moments before been reading through my classmates submissions for the day and ran across Jim’s post entitled, “Writing 101, Catching Up, Day 3 and Day 4.” Like Jim, I didn’t get started on my assignments on Day One, however I feel no rush to “catch up” with my peers. I have been doing the assignments out of order when they appeal or inspire me. I have always wanted to do things my way. A scrapbooking class? You bet, I’m there; can’t wait! Thanks for the materials… Ah look, how cute, you all did the exact same page! Nope, not me. I gotta be uniquely me. My vocation requires strict adherence to guidelines and deadlines so when it comes to my avocations I just gotta let my hair down and swing from the trees like Jane.
If you’d like to play along in Words Crush Wednesday (#wcw) just cut/paste and follow these simple rules:
(1) Pingback to the site you discovered #wcw on with every Words Crush Wednesday post. In this case, that’s me: memeesmusings.com! (you’ll want to switch out my name for yours)
(2) Use the badge they’ve created just for you – size doesn’t matter
(3) Tag your post #wcw so other players can find you
(4) Optional: When you are ready, create your own badge for those you inspire to play Words Crush Wednesday. If you do not create your own badge then your inspirees MUST use the badge from the blogger who inspired you, so be sure to make it easy for them to find.
That’s so super simple, you just might want to do it too!