Tag: writing prompt

Grandma at the Graveside

On By AngeliaIn Love and Light, The Red Dress Club20 Comments

Driving to graveside with my heart crushed, I didn’t feel the after effects of the tears, but sniffled and wiped my nose. Silent and disbelieving, through the window, I watched the long line of cars proceed ahead. The lead car (the hearse) a few car lengths away. In my mind, I vividly recall every detail. The little blue casket dwarfed inside the giant Baptist Church. Flowers with blue bows, little stuffed lambs, and plastic rattles. A pastor trying to comfort a family stunned by the loss of an infant only a week old. It just couldn’t be, but it was.

He was an angel, here for a short time, but why?….. why?….. It seemed so cruel to watch my sister hold him, rock him, and then cry by his casket. Not just cry, but – rip-your-heart-out and die – despair. A grief that was palpable. The ache I felt is nothing compared to what she feels. I can’t imagine, nor would I want to. Is he in a better place? Well, sure. But why? Why him? Why us? Why do babies have to die? Tears well up and drop because…. I don’t know the answer to that, and I never will. All I can do is be there for her, and be as brave as she is.

We reach the graveyard. Tires crunch on gravel. The day is overcast – of course. There is a tent set up over the grave. It has a green covering to resemble grass – to cover the hole. The chairs face the “grass” covered in velvet cloth. It is the most depressing place I have ever seen. My sister is still with the family car waiting for the casket and has not yet arrived. It is only my brothers and I, with a few friends strolling up. I see Grandma Owens being led to a chair under the tent awning on the first row. It’s hard to look at anyone. I can’t bear to see the bloodshot eyes, and the red noses. The pain, all the more real, when you look in the face of your family. All of us hurting.

Grandma is holding up very well. She sees the flowers set delicately around the graveside. Beautiful sprays of baby’s breath with delicate blooms unfolding love for a little boy we knew for such a short time. I watch as she moves toward the flower spray near the back, to touch, and to feel, and check the tag to see if it’s hers. One second she is there, shuffling toward the buds, the next she is gone. Gone! It all happened so fast, and it took a collective gasp of horror around me to realize……Grandma fell into the baby’s grave! Oh my GOD!

My brother reacted immediately. He jumped up and ran to her. Fearing the worst, a broke hip or arm. He struggled and yanked her tangled legs from the fake green carpet that was now dipped into the grave hole. He tugs her up, shaking his head in disbelief. As shocked and horrified as she is, we quickly realize Grandma is fine. She is not hurt, only embarrassed.

My brother exclaims loudly as he leads her back to her chair, “Grandma! What are you doing? Stay out of that grave! It’s not your time yet.”

Chuckles blow from hands clasped over mouths. Heads, and shoulders shake, because really? Really! That just happened. Grandma took a dive into the grave.

We laughed that day seventeen years ago, a sad day, but we laughed. We still laugh about it. Beneath the tears and the loss, we will always have that memory of Grandma at the graveside.

**This is a true story**

This post brought to you by…

This week’s prompt was to write a short piece in which a character told a joke and a character cried. The piece has to be maximum 600 words and must be able to be read aloud in no more than 3 minutes.

****I have a BUNCH of pictures from today. We had about six inches of snow, plus we had the little girls, and boy did we play. I will post pics this weekend. Happy Friday!****

Facebook Teenage Angst

On By AngeliaIn In the lives of children, Mama Kat's Writing Workshop22 Comments

Back in my teen years there was no Facebook. No immediate social interaction with boys across the country, or globe. At the most you could be pen pals, remember those?


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But if you didn’t like them anymore, or moved on to the next pen pal romance…..no big deal. Just stop writing. This was the 80’s.

Today…..


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Facebook completely changed things. You have immediate connections. Friends in common. Pictures to peruse and many, many other crush worthy items from her bio, to music, to interests. She likes silly bandz, she likes COOKING, she likes Hot Topic, and the mall. We are just alike….I Facebook HEART her. The boy creeps hard on her page, and her online hangouts. They can be from the same town, school, or even from across the country; like New Jersey.

From the Facebook platform communication can progress to text messaging, chat, and skype.

Then, when a teenage girl decides she doesn’t like a crushing boy. How does she lose this creep? It’s very similar to my day. Just stop texting skyping chatting talking facebooking. Simple.

Not so simple for him. He is still crushing on his Facebook teen idol.

Her. My daughter.

But she has moved on and is not looking back.

Teenage angst ensues.


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And you would think that is the end. Crush over. He moves on.

But, noooooo!

See, Facebook gives you the option of listing your PARENTS on your Facebook page and if there is one thing a teenage crushing boy knows is his stalked’s page forwards and backwards (because he creeps it).

The boy emails the mom. In this case, ME.

And what could he possibly say?

He says, “Sydney is in a bad place and is cutting herself.”

What?!?!?

Oh, and please don’t tell her he sent me a Facebook message. He is just trying to get her in trouble save her.

I’ll admit, I had a bit of angst myself. Did I know my child? Was she EMO? Was I missing something? Was I completely freakin’ BLIND?

Um. No.

This girl cries from a scratch that doesn’t break the skin. She points, and points to a tiny mark. I squint to see it but can’t. Mooommmm, it hurts. What hurts? I can’t see a thing!

Cutting? I don’t think so.

But I did learn something. Teenage crushes snuffed on Facebook cause great ANGST.

Poor guy.

It was pretty sneaky to facebook message the parent listed on her page. But, I didn’t fall for it. And he is soooo busted. Please, move on to your next victim crush. Sydney is just fine.

I don’t just Facebook with her. I live with her.

I know I sound old, but my how times have changed….

See what others are saying about angst on Mama Kat’s Losin it writer’s workshop.
Prompt 2) Angsty

The Color Blind Photographer

On By AngeliaIn Angel Lia's Photography, Mama Kat's Writing Workshop, Posessed by Nikon37 Comments

My secret is out and I might just lose a few clients over this. But, considering I haven’t even started my business, maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

Here is my dilemma.

Do you see what I see?


All I see is a yellow square. Nothing else. Apparently, there is something else. Maybe a rabbit jumping through a hoop? Or a children’s choir singing Kumbaya? Me? I don’t know. That’s my point – I don’t see it. Here is the online color blind test I took. See for yourself, or in my case – not.

It started in fourth grade. We had one of those health books. They had these circle thingies where a number is displayed. I couldn’t see it. If I couldn’t see the number, it said I had red-green color blindness. What did that mean to a ten-year old? Absolutely nothing. My Dad was color blind and from other parts of the health book I learned about heredity traits. I guessed I got it from him. I knew the color red. I knew the color green. Didn’t I? I mean I saw those colors. It’s just a number in a circle, right?

Except now……

Now that I am considering a side career. Charging people to take pictures. Launching a photography business. Would you pay a color blind photographer? Is that something I’d have to disclose?

Maybe, I can use color blind photography to create a niche market. It could be a catchy. You’ll never know what colors you’ll get, but we can always revert to black and white.

I happen to love black and white photography.

It’s a little comical now. I remember watching my Dad tune the colors on his TV over and over. It was never quite right. I used to tease him and ask him what color his curtains were. He would look and look and look. Finally, he’d say red and I’d laugh. “No Dad, it’s orange. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Oh yeah, I thought it was sooo funny. Did I mention what a bratty kid I was? How about karma? Have I mentioned that lately?

I have a confession…….I am color blind and I want to be a photographer.

I confess to not seeing the numbers in the circles.

I confess.

But I will not apologize for the colors I do see.

Vibrant, rich glorious colors.

And by the way, I may be color blind and part of the 0.005% women who are affected, but I am not blind as a bat.

I can see the train coming.

So what are your thoughts? Color blind? Or color rich? Would you hire a color blind photographer?

This post part of….
Mama's Losin' It
I chose prompt number 2) (inspired by Usher) – What are your confessions?

Ten Days After 10-10-10

On By AngeliaIn Mama Kat's Writing Workshop, Timeless Treasures, Wee Wee Wee all the way home!28 Comments

Four days married + six days in the hospital = ten days married.

We should will be going home today.

We have a diagnosis tentatively for Lupus. I say tentatively because, it was positive on a blood test, but only a rheumatologist can confirm diagnosis. It is possible it’s not Lupus but one of fifteen other connective tissue disorders. That’s a fancy way of saying your own body attacks your own body and causes inflammation out the wazoo that leads to ALL KINDS of problems.

I should be a redneck medical interpreter, I know..

Steroids calm it down (and did), but Jason can’t tolerate steroids (for long anyway) because of his diabetes. It messes with his sugar levels. We have been PROMISED a doctor of rheumatology that can run blood tests and release him tonight after he sees him at six (this after a patient advocate was called and some VP names were dropped. Yeah. I don’t play. Six days is enough). Then, we can blow this joint. I’m not crossing any fingers, because I will unhook him and walk him out MYself. I already cleared this with the admitting doctor. Heh.

Jason’s ex brought the girls to visit this week. It wasn’t what the doctor ordered, but by far the best medicine.


Blended families working together for the best of everyone’s benefit (and health) – that is a great accomplishment. Healing in more ways than medicinal.

When I told her we were family now – I meant it.

A big part of what has kept me going the last six days through hospital gown modeling. Camping on a chair cot. Crappy nurse care. Not eating right. Frequent back pain. And watching Jason endure and endure and endure has been the many memories of our beautiful wedding.

My friend and new sister Kellene has posted the wedding pictures during our stay in the hospital honeymoon suite.

My brilliant photographer and me.

The photographs have given us warmth and love across the miles to see her talent and see her love for us through the camera lens. I never questioned my decision to hire a photographer for the wedding and I certainly never questioned it being her. Take a look and see why for yourself.



There are more pictures on her blog and website – Bella Lucia Photography and Blog. Please visit her and share our joy with us and her incredible talent.

Also, celebrate that Jason’s illness is manageable and we praise God for that. Thanks to all the friends and family that prayed for us during this time.

We are deeply touched and grateful. Our love abounds and grows stronger through these trails.

This post edited to be part of….
Mama's Losin' It
Using prompt…
5.) “Keep your face to the sunshine and you can not see the shadow” – Helen Keller
In what ways are you able to stay positive about something that sometimes brings you down?

I commented to Mama Kat I had written so many posts during our pre-wedding and post-wedding that kept us positive through it all and she said to link one up. It was hard to choose. There are posts before and after on the story of Jason’s Mom entering ICU two weeks before our wedding date with a brain aneurysm then a stroke. We managed to pull the wedding off then end up in the hospital too. Despite it all, we kept our face to the sun and we still are. I don’t see any shadows here. Not one.