I have spent 11 mother day’s without my mother. So today, instead of being sad, I figured I’d tell a story about her.

There were many years, fifteen worth, of stories to tell about her. All different but alike in the same. My mother was my best friend. The only person on the planet who I could tell anything to && not be afraid of their reaction. I always found myself going with her to work, mostly because I couldn’t find many reasons not to. On day, early morning hours where dew was still on the grass and fog hovered over the trees, I was with her. At this particular job she was a morning cook &&& opened the cafe. Every morning was the same thing, I’d fall asleep on the top of the freezer while she made homemade biscuits. This day started out no different than any others except I didn’t go to sleep. That morning I decided that I would keep my mother company, pulled up a seat, and sat there talking.

In the middle of a conversation I heard banging on the back door. My mom told me to open it, it was more than likely the lady that comes in after my mom to help finish prepping breakfast. As I made my way to the back door I stopped and thought about this for a moment. I was there every morning, even when the co-worker showed up, and never did her knocking sound like this. I turned &&& told my mom I was a little afraid of opening it. My mom pulled me back && decided I was correct, instead, she called the police.

That particular day a man was banging on the back door trying to get in because someone was literally beating the snot out of him. If I had opened that door they would have been on top of me.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the mothers out there. I hope you get a chance to spend it with your children and enjoy your day. For y’all of you out there who no longer has their mother – share a story. Put their life out there so everyone can enjoy just how wonderful your mother was or is.

♥♥♥

I am attempting to write through this writer’s block.  Yes!  The writers block I have had since November of 2013.  No!  I’m not kidding.  It’s beginning to grind my gears to the point of wanting to scream.  

The last few days I have wrote a few stories.  Nothing big.  But stories nonetheless.  It still takes me a bit to do it and I have cheated a little with writing poetry.  But small is better than nothing, correct?  I may be kidding myself, but I am trying.  

I decided to give a new writing style a try.  See if I get the creative juices flowing.  What style?  Limerick.  For non writers out there that is scratching their forehead trying to remember from school what a “limerick” is, let me enlighten you.  A limerick is a five-line poem with a strict meter.  The rhyme scheme is usually A-A-B-B-A. Lines one and two end in the same rhyme.  Lines three and four end in the same rhyme.  Line five ends in the same rhyme as one and two.  

Example: 
There was an old man with a beard,
Who said, “It is just as I feared! – 
Two Owls and a Hen, four Larks and a Wren
Have all built their nests in my beard.”
       -Edward Lear, “A Book of Nonsense”

I have yet to actually try and write one.  But I plan on it.  Tomorrow.  Maybe?

This post was originally wrote November 05, 2013.

I sat here tonight and cleared out my computer.

For almost five years I have not had internet and rarely ever used my computer.  Only doing small things: playing games or using it to write.  A few months after I moved into the house I live in now, I hooked up my computer and it wouldn’t turn on.  That’s always a sad moment for someone who used to live on their computer.  Then I think about how much music and writing I have saved on this and the moment becomes even sadder.  So, I unhooked my desktop and put it away – hoping one day I might figure out how to fix it.  Last week my brother came and got my desktop and fixed it – sending me a picture message while at work proving that it was on.

I am not sure if I have been that excited in a while.

I finally hooked it up and turned it on.  Then sat here and deleted everything that I no longer have the use for.  I removed quite a bit from my computer.  Three different messengers (MSN, AIM, & Windows), games that I have played & won many times (leaving only three games left: Supermarket Mania, Farm Frenzy 1 & 2, & Hotel Mogul.

It was so many years and days I spent on the internet when I lived with my dad that I feel like I have completely erased that side of me.  I think about it, every now and then, of how many years I spent in front of a computer.  That when my Dell went out a few years ago I freaked!  Not honestly because I lost all my music – I could get that again – or the writing I had – none of it was finished – but because I couldn’t spend my life sitting in front of it eating as much as I could put in my mouth.  I have wondered how I allowed myself to do that.  Even though the internet obsession began when I was 13 and ended when I no longer had the internet (19 years old) it seems like a part of me that I need to put to rest.  Finally be done with it.

I had made a whole new me.  A better me.  I went by a fake name, fake looks, and fake hobbies.  I made things up so much that, for the longest time, I honestly believed it.  Until I looked into a mirror and realized that it was nothing but lies.  It was so nice to be able to sit around and have conversations with people about everything, from politics to music.  I enjoyed the people so much that they became all I ever thought about.  (I have often wondered what ever happened to those people.  The friends I made all of those years hiding out.)

I have sense been in contact with friends I had before that happened & they all ask me the same thing “where have you been? “  Truth is, I was here.  I was living in my hometown until I was sixteen & then only moved twenty minutes away.  I was not able to be found on MySpace (when it was popular) or FaceBook because I used my ”fake” name.  Fact: my FaceBook is still under my fake name.  That’s why no one can find me unless we’re mutual friends with people.

I wonder a lot, sitting here today, if it was a down spiral after losing my mother.  I was fifteen when that happened and after that never came out.  I never surfaced again until I was 23 when my dad passed away.  Why then?  I am not sure.  But I do know that I got back in contact with friends from high school, and I leave my house.  I have a job (didn’t back then and when I did only lasted about six months before I quit, leaving myself back into the internet) that I enjoy more than anyone could imagine.  I began writing again – almost finished with the rough draft of my novel.  I have a cell phone & that might seem strange to admit, but I didn’t have a phone when everyone else did.  Because I didn’t want to be found.  I wanted to be left alone with my food and computer.

I found it a big step when I made my twitter account & used my name @HightowerBarb. (Follow me. *winks*) 

Will I delete my FaceBook & make a new one finally, making it public, and letting people know how and what I’m up to?  That’s the biggest question for me right now & I’m not sure yet.  Finally getting under my name on everything will be something I didn’t think I would do when I was younger.

Will I go back to those ways once I get the internet back (will have it about three weeks after I wrote this), or will I continue with the life I’ve made in the last two years?

Will the internet seem as great as it did, not even, six years ago?

This was an issue I had for many years and I decided last year that the only way I could fix my problems and live the life I want – achieve the things I want in life – is to admit & correct.  I guess that’s what I feel like I’m doing right now.  Admitting it so I can correct it.

I have admitted to having a lot of problems in the last few years and I haven’t had as many issues.  Life seems better and the sun seems brighter.  (Even as corny as that sounds.)

I guess only time will tell just how much I have changed and how many things I won’t let affect the way I live and act.  I’m just hoping for the best – and hopefully I will finally be able to be the person – completely – that I have always dreamed about being.  Intelligent.  Happy.

For now, though, I’m happy with being content.

Unfinished.

Posted: April 26, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

My issue has always been finishing a piece of writing.  I set out with the greatest idea I have come up with in a while.  I sit writing for hours, days, or even months.  Get almost to the end && decide that I need more than that.  So I then attempt to write more on something, that probably doesn’t need it, get irritated && never finish.  

Looking through a journal I have it just irritates me as to how many short stories I have started but not finished.  Or even the book that I started that I am still not finished with.  I understand that some writers take years to complete a book.  But they usually write daily, page by page, chapter to the next – I haven’t wrote on mine since November.  I haven’t done anything since November.  

I feel like I should be doing something.  Anything.  But i’m not.  I haven’t.  Does that mean I may not want it as much as I think I do?

Bears.

It has been a bit since I last posted something, so before I go to sleep I have decided to post something quick & funny. Hopefully my writing urge comes back soon so I have something to post. Until then…

Image  —  Posted: March 29, 2014 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

Barbara Hightower:

I’ve found my new obsession painter. So I thought I’d share – get him more fans that he doesn’t already have.

Plus, I really love this piece.

Originally posted on Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas:

“Beyond the Yellow Brick Road” – By Me – 2013

6ft W x 18″ H

Spray Paint on Wood Panel

***SOLD***

Ferrer - OZ

View original

Daily Prompt:

When you were five years old, who was your hero? What do you think of that person today?

When I think back on being younger most of it is a blur.  Whether I it’s because I slept away the years or because it just simply faded, I rarely remember a lot of memories.  But there is one thing I’ll never forget, even when I think back on my five year old self, my hero.  There was always that one person in my life that made everything make sense.  When I needed a shoulder to cry on they were always there and held my hand when I needed it.  

My mother.

Over the course of my life my five year old self hero just became stronger.  Everything she did I wanted to be there.  I can remember, (this wasn’t at five more like fifteen) that she’d go to work and I’d literally go with her.  Many days sitting around her place of employment just to spend time with her.  The days I decided to stay home we’d call each other throughout the day.  

At fifteen I lost my hero.  We buried the only person in my life, at the time, that meant more to me than anything else.  I placed her in the ground, exactly like she wanted to be.  We left her in the ground nearly six hours away from where I live today and I let go of my hero & best friend.  

Today I have often wondered if we would have had the normal “mother/daughter” fights that people go through.  If her and I would have stayed close or I would have decided that we were too close and begin backing off.  I have often wondered if her and I would still be talking, like we did then, and spend as much time together.  Would I still think so high of her and her thoughts on how I should live my life, or would I think she butts in too much and start backing away?  

I try and live my life the way she always wanted.  Yes, I have had my stray moments.  (Dropping out of high school.  Not going to college until I was 23 years old & then flunking out of my fourth semester because I was overwhelmed.  An emotional breakdown before I was 30.)  I am pretty sure that I am nowhere near what she always wanted for me by the age of twenty-six.  I’m working on that.    

But there are small things.  Tiny things she always put in my head that I have chosen to live life by.  Mostly, treat people the way I want to be treated, (yes, my mother was more religious than me).  But that is by far one of the best things to ever teach your child while raising them.  Never settle in life for the smaller things.  Always touch stars rather than a light bulb just because it’s easier. (I think she is half the reason I’m still single.  I don’t want to ‘settle’.  I want love & everything, or nothing at all.)

My hero wanted the best for me.  Wanted to give me everything the world would let me have.  But I wonder sometimes if some of the choices I’ve made in my life if she’d be disappointed.  Is she looking down on me thinking how off track I’ve gotten.  The day I got my first tattoo – did she shake her head?  The day I got my second tattoo – did she sigh?  The day I declared a life of loneliness, rather than settling for just anything – did she mutter cuss words?  When I flunked out of college – was she disappointed? 

I guess sometimes you just have to live life without knowing everything.  For me, this is the one thing that I’ll never know.  But I will live my life the way she wanted even with the days I decide to trip up a little and have to regain my footing.  I know that I will have her on my side, even if she isn’t here with me physically.  For me, that’s enough to keep going.

Image

My mom & me in Florida; 2003.