Time to Relax…#397

August 2 thru 4 was spent with my two sons. It had been planned for some time and I prayed that I would be able to go. The pain was unbearable at times, but this did not stop me from enjoying every minute. Sometimes we must push through the pain in order to get into the realm of laughter, togetherness, and love. I had trained all my life for this very thing and the time was beautiful.

Cabin at Indian Trails Campground…

Inside the cabin…

It was a beautiful setting, surrounded by a fence, which took away from the “campground” effect. We arrived on a Tuesday. It took some time to get everything settled, then darkness came on quickly.

I had a walker which was difficult to maneuver over the gravel road. However, I also had my big battery-powered wheelchair that could tackle any road and win. As I look back, I can barely remember doing a 5K with Chuck and Karen only a few years back. Walking 6 miles every day and eating “right”.

That was with heart surgery and many other complications that “old age” will throw at you. Then, it all ended when I fell and broke my back! One year and three months ago the big “C” was a diagnosis that I did not ever want to hear. The days go and come with me fighting it every step of the way. Over this past year, I have gone from cane to walker and wheelchair. Thus, this brings me to today.

I did go to Door County, a big attraction here in Wisconsin. If I was going to wait until I felt better…that was not going to happen. Three days there with my granddaughter and my 10-year-old great-grandson. That was not a vacation, but a few days of seeing how undisciplined he was most of the time.

So, the three days in the cabin were something I needed badly. What a peaceful time.

Here are the two that made that possible and what a joy to have time without drama. I must tell you that I have two of the most wonderful sons. They took time out of their busy lives to give me those days.  We went to an Amish Bakery, you have not lived until you have baked goods from scratch, with no preservatives. I laughed more than I have ever laughed and felt nothing but respect and love. The tallest is Carl in management with a large company. The shorter one is me! The other boy is Chuck a special education teacher. Chuck is also a writer as is his mother. He has published two books on mental health, and he is a speaker in mental health as well.  

We pushed all we could into those short three days. We vowed to go again next summer. My wish is that I can, and if not, I had them promise me that they would get together every summer, just the two of them.

Have a great weekend, and I hope to return shortly.  E.


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Mini Vacation – July 26, 2022…#394

I recently returned after being away for a few days. My granddaughter and I went to Door County, a vacation spot for many from Wisconsin and out-of-state people. I had to get away after over two years of being shut in because of Covid. I was going “stir” crazy. I decided that cancer could do no less harm than being out and about.

We also had my great-grandson, who will soon turn ten. That is something to write—a spoiled ten-year-old. Of course, this is not anything new to me. If I heard “Mommie” once, I heard it a million times over four days. I doubt if spoiled is the correct term. I believe his parents try, yet they are not too successful in setting boundaries. They allow him to decide everything from ordering off the menu in a restaurant to when he wants to stop at some money-making game place. By the fourth day, I was living on my last nerve! We would leave on the fifth day and not a moment too soon.

Like Tina Turner sings, “What’s love got to do with it .”I love him very much, and he is a sweet loving kid who is spoiled. I sometimes wonder if there is enough time for him to get out of this entitled stage. His half-brother, who has lived an entitled life, does not know anything but to be catered to. He is thirteen years older than the other one. To clarify, neither comes from a “well-to-do” family. Yet the parents and a grandmother want to be friends with the two of them. I believe the term “will they love me” comes into play.

The grandmother is my youngest daughter, I have raised five children by myself, and as they grew up, they knew that I loved them and wanted them to love me. Yet, I was never their friend, each taught to respect me, and they have all turned out to be fine citizens and outstanding children. I believe that they have brought up their children as I did them. The youngest daughter is the only one with grandchildren; they are, as stated, brought up to be entitled to have all they need and too much of what they want.

However, it was a good trip. I enjoyed getting away from my own home, my book had slowed down, and I needed to recoup. The walls seemed to be closing in. I understand that this happened, but I did enjoy the trip. I came back with a much clearer head than when I left. The pain went with me, but it is only with pain that my mind remains clear. I refuse to take enough to stop the pain; it is then that the mind stops as well.

I wish all of you a wonderful day.

 Altered Senses

Existence, scene after scene, characteristics of life environment, genetics, and promises that reveal nothing, the past descends like rain from the sky, washing away all dreams.

Phantoms of youth chanting within the soul, paths blocked; evil has spread across the landscape of a lifetime.

Rethink the future! Loneliness limits love and happiness; boundaries set slow down the process of moving into the future. Nevertheless, a future shrouded with abundant solitude from which there is no escape.


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July 2022, Alive or Dead…#391

My mother did not know if I were alive or dead. When the car drove away, she did not come out to see who it was; it would be four years before she saw my face. My cries are forgotten. A man I thought to be my daddy was my uncle. Yet they never hid who I was, and my daddy came to see me when he could always say he would take me home one day. By the time I was three years old, I could take care of myself. I took to the boys like a fish to water. They made me tough. Aunt Vina taught me manners; She was a brilliant individual. She took me to the local library and taught me how to read. By the time I left, I could read some simple words. That last year I could remember my life there, but nothing before. I could dress, tie my shoes and eat without help. I was toilet trained. There was nothing left to teach me, or so they thought. One Sunday afternoon, my daddy came to Birmingham. He said it was time for me to go home.

As the years have gone by, I have thought about how my life would be if I stayed with Aunt Vina. On that ride home, I had no idea who I was or where I was going. My life on the farm was simple; I wandered the hills above my family’s house and cared for myself. My mother ignored me, my sister hated me, and there was no love in that home, not even from my daddy. I don’t think he knew how. As the years went by, the only thing I could not do was get on the bus for school. I came home to chores. From age four until twelve, I ran the hills during good weather, always exploring. I learned to not care that my sister had pretty clothes and mine were hand-me-downs from my mother’s customers. I learned to not care that I was not loved. Eventually, my mother would not allow me to go to Aunt Vina’s during summer breaks from school. The clothes she bought me my mother gave away. If she found my journals, she burned them.

I learn to live in “Hell” at a very young age.



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July 8, 2022 Patience…#390

More and more each day, I see the hypocrisy and pettiness of humankind. I also see hate and jealousy. Outside my apartment, I have a “Black Lives Matter” sign in my garden. It is not gaudy but of good taste in design. It also states that other things I believe to matter are “women’s rights, human rights, gay rights, love is love.” I support all these things! A “Pride flag with large Native American feathers” is hanging from my patio porch. This flag represents my beliefs in its Pride colors and my Native heritage.

My neighbor came over to say that all they can see wherever they go in June is PRIDE, PRIDE, PRIDE, and she has had enough. Not to be spiteful, or maybe I was, I told her that I never watch football; however, the large “whirly gig” (half the size of my flag) she had in her patio area was quite beautiful. Painted her team’s colors were gorgeous, and the sound it makes is almost like windchimes, which I also love. She walked away without another word.

We must all realize that we are made up of different likes and dislikes. I continue to state that I am not perfect, but I try to understand everyone. I love parades showing how loyal we are as Americans. I try to recognize that we have many facets to our lives which, if not hurting anyone (Other than their feelings), we need to let everyone live their lives as they wish. That does not include rapists, murderers, hateful, harmful people.

My four-legged companion loves everyone like they all belong to her. I wish we could all be as innocent and loving as she. We should make the path we are traveling one that we are not judgmental. Each person’s preference is theirs, and we only have it if we believe God to answer too.



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July 7,2022 Forgiving Evil…#389

Forgiving evil. Within this past year, I have removed the toxic people from my life. It was not an easy thing to do. However, after years of forgiving their toxic ways over and over, it was beginning to affect my health. Then another evil entity came to visit, CANCER.

There are some evils that one cannot forgive; you must first love before you have the need to forgive. There are evils in our nation, our world that I cannot love; therefore, I have no reason to forgive. Some things are just too evil to forgive.

I love those that became toxic in my life dearly, and I have forgiven them. Was I perfect? No, but I was not filled with toxicity as they were. I had room in my soul to forgive and still love, even though they do not feel they have done anything wrong.

I wish the world could be like my fur baby Dixie. She is filled with so much love she believes that she belongs to everyone, and she shows them what love she has to offer. Most return her love. I believe Dixie sometimes keeps me alive, my prayers, and those who send me their prayers, thoughts, love and having a wonderful family.

During our lifetimes, we can give and take love; it will go on if you continue to fill all your empty places with passion, mindfulness, and kindness. EAJM 


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July 6, 2022…#388

My Stage 3 – Multi Myeloma continues to hold its own as I continue 22 days per month “Chemo.” As I have stated before, it is treatable but not curable. Mine will never be in remission. In life, we get these “burdens” that we must bear or lessons we must learn.

 I have been working on my biography, which has left me little time for anything else. I have had one family member request that she not be in my book. I do not have a problem with that! Everyone I would place in the book is gone; I can go into deeper depths about what my life was like from the beginning. It will mostly be about my life as a wife; the book’s beginning will cover my birth, childhood, and a few teen years. My poetry is based on this era, and I understand that much of it is “dark.” However, all my poetry books are based on hard times, trials and tribulations.

I must route around some distant family members who may have problems bringing them into my story. Yet, I have found that when we love others, we expect that they will love us back, I have cared deeply for many, and the feeling was not returned. These are those who will be eliminated.

Am I lovable may be a good question; I believe I am? I am not perfect; I have been stubborn and sometimes judgmental. I have worked on this flaw in me for many years; I am still climbing that mountain of “self” I hope the downside will be easier. So, back to the book.

Have a great July. EAJM


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A Time to Go…#386

A Time to go, is a bit of prose to fill a void…

The old woman sat in a chair in the gathering room of the elderly housing project where her children had placed her. She has lived alone for the past 40 years. Now her freedom has been ripped away. All she owns sits in the small storage area of the local buy and sell the shop. Her gnarled and deformed hands ache. She has nothing more to do but contemplate the mystery that was once her life. No one really knows her, not even her children. She looked upon the flesh of her being. Time had taken its toll. She shuts her eyes slowly as her body relaxes from the pain that will no longer be. It is time to go.


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A Mother’s Love…#385

In the stillness of the midnight hour veiled in

Glory, my mother, stood next to me. She touched

My face where there are always tears. She

Placed her angelic arms around me to take away my


What are these thoughts you have, my child? She

Said to me with a mother’s smile. Embrace my

Love, let it take away your sorrows. We are all

Here for only a short while. Be joyous of each

And every tomorrow.

Seek life, not death; things are never as bad as

They seem to cherish your life…follow your dreams.

I opened my eyes, sat up, looking around; this was

Only a dream. It was one I always held dear, love, from

My own mother was never found.


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The Forged Tongue…#384

Standing in a graveyard alone.

to mourn, to stare at the mound

of dirt, below was the shell of one

who loved but a few, the seed of

kindness never sowed, the love they

did not seek, now silence lies

beneath. Entitlement is all that

remains, grief, no greeting,

unwanted presence, gestures, tone

and it looks like in death, there was a joy

and greedy ploys. Gluttony bloomed

before the setting of the sun, looking

for more to take, life took on a forged

tongue. Open jeers, false deeds, honor

lost, the price of greed can be at a great

cost. Roars the misty breath of strife

destiny has finally caught up with a

liar’s life.


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A Complex Woman…#380