Tag Archive | Free Write Friday

Free Write Friday: Your Earliest Memory

Memory Prompt:

Write about your earliest memory. Good, bad, happy or sad. Before you begin, take time to dwell in that memory. Absorb everything you can about it. What you see, what you smell, what you hear and mostly, how you feel. Let it resonate. Marinate your mind in that one moment. Then begin…

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Memories can be tricky…

we live our memories…

and then some of the memories we think we have are actually things people have said…

My cousin and I were born on the same day in January…

in the same hospital…

I have heard that story so many times… of my Mom and my Aunt Edith having girl babies on the same day… that I feel I remember it…

Yes… I was there… being born three hours earlier than my cousin… but, do I remember it…

No…

I do remember that I was the “baby” of the family…

Being the last one born of five…

and I was treated quite special…

I do remember living in the little house my Dad had built having gotten out of the Navy and buying eight acres of land in the country…

I do remember glimpses of my brother in the field of our land… combing his hair in front of a mirror by the front door…

I have glimpses of my Mother and Dad…

and my older sister who was around 5-1/2 years old at that time…

I remember living in this small house that the creek ran behind…

the Collie dog named Ring…

my oldest sister bringing me bottles from where she worked…

They were all glass at that time…

and I would throw them on the tile floors that covered concrete and break them…

I remember sitting in my Mother’s lap… and the sweet smell of her and her softness…

What a warm feeling….

and then my Dad seemed to be a protective feeling…

Holding me in his arms… and walking around with me… Up so high… and feeling safe…

I was in awe of my sister and brother… being able to do so much…

they seemed to give me attention… although thinking I was spoiled from what I hear…(not a memory)…

because I know I must have been the “perfect” child…

the outside toilet… white with stone steps… all made by my Dad…

I remember taking short trips…

to the country where my Grandmother lived… dusty… crossing a bridge… water in the creek…

Liked those memories!…

I seemed to just take everything in

the kin-folk as you might call them…

the food put on the table with everyone bustling around…

The men telling stories… and maybe drinking a beer…

Laughing was always heard…

everyone so glad to see each other…

warm summer days…

playing in the creek… and sitting in a metal tub outside with water in it…

Watching my Mom hang clothes on the clothes lineheating water over a fire built on a wheel barrel frame in a metal tub…

Watching my Dad nail many nailsclimbing ladders… carrying boards… cut with saws…

building our bigger house…

My Mom sewing on the Singer Sewing Machine with the foot pedal…

Teaching me to do so many things…

The trees… the birds… the warm breeze…

The swing between the twin trees… swinging so high I could touch a branch of leaves with my toes…

Good memories… Early memories…

 

 

#FWF Free Write Friday: Ponder this…

Here is your FWF prompt:fwf kellie elmore badge

I didn’t understand it then, but I understand it now…

Sometimes we are so confused k3947516as to what is happening in our lives…

I was introduced to people with mental challenges k16192727when I was a young Mom… Only to find out later that my son suffers with Bi-polar Disorder k14932235

I was given a job at the Public School that I volunteered at… working with Learning Disability Students… The Principal saw something in me it seems to offer me this job!… feeling I could do it… At that time… he had more faith  in me than I myself!

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I was then transferred to another school with Special Needs Students… and stayed there… for 30 years… Always dealing with my son’s illness at this time…

My working with Mentally Challenged  k12506123 people was not what I wanted to do with my life…

I wanted to do art of some kind… k8413105

Well, I have!…

I look back and see how my art helped me in teaching and helping the many students I touched…

My art has helped my son become an avid collector and see things in such a different state of mind than in those early years… and has given him a purpose…

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We are “good friends”          LVI0005

and “shoppers of the unusual”…Antiqu_C

Now… in my later years… after retiring from my school job… I find myself using and helping the elderly with the skills I have learned and techniques I have mastered…

I feel I was molded into the person God wanted me to be… k3524555

I must have been willing… and pliable… like a piece of softened clay…

Because I feel good about the way I have turned out…

Yes, sometimes looking backI see the path being laid out saf0033 … but, unable to see it at the time!

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#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

Credit: Tumblr

free write friday kellie elmore

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I was leaving… I had planned it for a long time…

With the way the world was becoming… why not!…

I had nothing left here…

He had left … without a word…

I could only imagine he was as fed up with my actions as I was with his…

The life that had been… lost…

 Somewhere between the war… his return… and trying to get back that special something we thought we had…

I believe it had just slowly crumbled…

Like the paint on some of the older homes here… The sun had just faded them… they had lost their brightness… their clarity… their strength to stand upright…

No one lived in them… had been abandoned…

Our lives coincided…

Our love tried so hard to hang onto the happiness once shared… the brightness of smiles… the clarity of the shine in our eyes… the hope that it could be renewed…

Neither felt anything… Time to go…

He had just taken the first step…

and now, here I was…

Hitching a ride to ………………. who knows where…

But, my fingers were feeling the breeze… my face was feeling the sun… my heart was beating in my ears…

maybe… just maybe… I would be able to feel again!

        by: Marilyn Griffin

#FWF Free Write Friday: Image Prompt

Source: Tumblrfree write friday kellie elmore

Prompt provided by kellieelmore.com

“It”… by Marilyn Griffin

I dream of it…

I can smell it…

I can taste it…

I feel it…

I almost touch it…

“It”… being that place I can never get to…

Dreaming of love… that aching inside… that means it’s real…

That wafting smell of sweetness… a smell that tantalizes the nostrils… never wanting it to end…

I seldom get to taste… interruptions… awakenings… but, my body longs for that touch of mouth to mouth…

I can lightly feel the strong but, caressing arms as they encircle my body and pull it close…

The “touch”…

“It” almost happens… “It” is almost completed…

“It” is almost there…

No, “it” is not real…

Wishing so… haunted by it… but, not to be mine…

Only in my dreams!