How do you pay any good done towards you, forward? Do you try to pay it forward, or back toward those who are kind to you?
I try to be kind to people on a regular basis. I like to do little things that just show that I care. For example, usually once a week I buy cookies and bring them to my dad’s memory care facility. I walk around to all the residents and offer them cookies. They sometimes remember that my face is associated with cookies but besides that it is just so they all get something, because that is a nice feeling, especially because I don’t know how many of the residents get visitors and/or how often. I also offer them to the staff but they often decline. I guess I just think that if that were me in there, with no memory of the life I had led, I would like to see someone come with a smile and a sweet treat.
As the sky cleared the water started to ebb. It was as if the atmosphere was sucking the clouds from the sky and the water from the land. Dina stared out and gasped. What was she seeing? Were those tombstones? Dina had lived in this town her whole life and never heard about any burial grounds, nor had she ever heard any stories about the town without this beautifully flowing river with the strong bridge bringing two groups of people together. Grabbing her phone she looked to see if she had service. She did not, not here on the bank of the river. She would call her grandma as soon as she got in the car. Although grandma was starting to forget things she always remembered her childhood, as it had been so pleasant as far as her stories had told. Who would have been buried there? Why was it turned into a river? Did the corpses in their metal boxes been polluting the water? So many questions but she wasn’t sure she would ever get the all the answers.
I usually mention other bloggers in my post if it was something I came across just by viewing their post. Since I know who hosts many of the challenges and prompts I do mention the blogger as a pingback. I wonder if that is enough?!! I definitely do if I reblog something that has nothing to do with my writing or work.
To be honest, I would say about 75%. I want the title to interest readers but also have something to do with the post. Some of my silly poems have silly titles. I don’t want to make them seem serious if then the reader is going to read something totally ridiculous, or vice versa.
For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a young woman holding a child wrapped in a white blanket, close to her bosom.
Dear Baby, I waited 40 long weeks to finally meet you and you are better than any one, little person I could imagine. You are perfect and although you will change a little every day for the rest of your life I want you to know that I love all of you, no matter what changes occur. I will love you for all you do and for those things you choose not to do, I will love you for all the good choices you make and all your mistakes, I will love you for your accomplishments and your failures, and I will love you because you are you and there will never be anyone like you again. Love Mommy
How are you changing the world? How are you making the world a better place?
There is so much sadness in the world, so many bad things happening to good people. At times it seems like humanity is out of control. I think we all need to have a common ground to stand on and show that no matter who you are, where you come from, where you plan on going, it doesn’t have to be thrown at people nor kept from people. We all just need to let people be who they are and who they want to be. This is what I try to instill in people I know and meet, the little way I might be changing the world.
I comment on many posts that I see and I guess there are a few different reasons.
I like to acknowledge those people who I feel I have formed a relationship with through blogging. I like to know that people are looking at what I post and I want others to know that I am interested in what they post.
I comment on really good writing. I don’t tell everyone that their writing is really good if I don’t really think it is. That is NOT to say that if I don’t say its good then I don’t think its good…I cannot read every post that comes my way as I do have obligations in my life and cannot sit on my computer all day.
I comment on things that I relate to. I have found that with my grief, for example, it feels better to know that there is either someone that knows what it feels like or that there is someone who might actually give a shit that I am feeling sad. The same goes with the funny stuff or the good things that happen in my life.
I will not comment on a post that uses especially vulgar language or who writes out-right offensive material. This is not a place to put people down or make people feel bad. It is not a place to bully other people. I have had the unfortunate experience of having someone “yell” at me because I commented “wrong” on their post. There was one post a long time ago that was a story written for a prompt. It was a lot of dialogue but every word in the back-and-forth conversation was a swear (f this, f that). I get it. I have used these words before, but it went over the top. It went to the point that I didn’t like the characters because of the way they spoke.
I comment on the posts that I believe someone put a lot of effort in. Sometimes the writing may not be to my liking but I can tell that it is good writing.
Sadje hosts What do you see and you can find it here
They splashed in the turbulent waters and if Adam hadn’t known already that they were good swimmers, he would have feared for the lives of his dogs. He had named them Rain and Salt because, from the moment he brought them home, they had bounded into the lake behind his house within minutes of arriving. Now, in this hidden gem of a watering hole, he couldn’t keep them out. Adam knew he would have to wait until both dogs had tired themselves out before heading back to the car.
It is so hard to think of memories of my dad when I think of who he was and who he is now. He was a businessman who owned an Insurance Company and Real Estate Broker. He loved gardening the most. As a kid whenever something needed to be done, he didn’t call anyone, he did it himself. He built our decks, put up our swimming pool, built playhouses in the woods…One thing I remember is when I used to go in on Saturday mornings with my father, to his office, to help do the filing and cleaning. We would leave by 7:30 or so and I was always so hung over! Every week we stopped at the diner for breakfast. Some weeks it was a dry bagel or blueberry muffin, but I always tried to gag something down! 😂
Today may be one of the memories I come to cherish the most. Today, David and I brought donuts to the memory care unit to celebrate Father’s Day. We talked a lot and with questions came tears and memories that he still has. My mom, my son, my late husband, his late “wife”, where he is going to be buried… But in the end we had plenty of smiles.
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