Well Earned Respect

I work in an area known as Medical City.

It was developed and designed to be a community driven by health, sports and education. After build out and completion (in less than two years) it should be a community of 35,000.

The new Veteran's Hospital is truly what every member of the armed service deserves, and needs.

I have one customer, an outpatient from there, who is one of my favorite people to wait on.

He's a Vietnam vet, probably about ten or fifteen years older than me.

 He's confined a wheel chair, has a patch over one eye and the use of only one hand.

 He doesn't have many teeth, his speech can be slow or slurred...on a good day, but is still pretty sharp upstairs in his wheelhouse.

The first time I waited on him, about two years ago, I of course struck up a conversation with him.

 (DUH)

  He can be hard to understand sometimes and when he is, you just need to give a non descript answer to a mumbling comment, and hope it was the right one.

Trust me, if he has to repeat himself, he will.

My first  real conversation with him went something like this, after taking his credit card and learning his first name was Michael.

"Do you ever watch TV? Because you remind me of a character on Breaking Bad."

His answer:

"Yeah, I've seen it."

My response:

"You look like Mike Ehrmantraut."

He actually chuckled at that one.

(but he does)

He rolls up from the VA (right down the street) a couple of times a week to eat lunch with us or have a drink or two.

I've had more than one customer come up to me inside of the restauarant and want to pay the tab for him. I usually always tell them his name and encourage them to stop by his table on the way out and speak to him.

He doesn't manuever well inside of the restaurant so he always pulls up to an outside table on the patio, where we can  pull the plants apart so he can squeeze in and up to a table for lunch.

Bless his heart, he can make a huge mess when he eats. His one working arm isn't all that great, only has the use of one eye and no use of either of his legs or feet.

I have tremendous respect (and gratitude) for his man, and his service to this country. I wouldn't wish serving in the Vietnam war on my worst enemy.

Today he came in for lunch.

He wheeled onto the patio and his server took his order.

We were kinda getting a little busy and I hadn't had time to go out and speak to him yet, but as I stood at the service bar waiting on drinks for one of my own tables, I witnessed this out the window... he was cutting up the food so it would be easier for him to eat.

My respect for this server shot through the roof.

It was one of those moments cell phones were meant to capture.

Once I got caught up, I wandered outside to say 'hey'.

As always, I came up from behind him and said "How ya doin today, Ole Man?"

He was backing away from the table, with spaghetti noodles all over his tennis shoes , foot rest and ground all around him. 

He slowly shook his head and said "I've made a mess today."

I immediately said,  "If you didn't make a mess, I wouldn't have a job. Just hang on a minute and let me get a broom and dustpan and we'll get you and your chair all cleaned up."

And I did.

I was a little hesitant when I first met him, about cleaning him up after a meal. I didn't want him to be humiliated or feel embarrassed.

But after two years of chatting at least once a week with him and slowly getting to know him, I do it...or offer to, every single time.

That's the least I can do for a man who fought for his country and  fought for my family. 

I salute him...and Thank him.

Sometimes when he comes in I'll pay for his food myself. No biggie, I get a 50% discount. Sometimes my manager will pay for it (she's awesome) but more often than not, a random customer offers to do it.

This makes me feel a bit better about this crazy world we live in today.

Do something nice for a random person. Trust me, it will make you feel better than it does them.

Til next time, COTTON

Unbroken Circles

When my sister was going to Georgia Southern in the early seventies, I visited her several different times. Sometimes with my parents and sometimes on my own, staying with her. I met or got to know pretty much every single friend and sorority sister of hers.

#DeltaZeta

Crazy as it sounds, over forty years later, I still keep in contact with a few of them.

Case in point the lovely woman (above) to the left of me.

Social media, for all its stupidity and derisiveness, is still a good tool to keep in touch with friends.

She sent me a text message the other day saying she and her husband(who live in south Georgia) were going to be in Orlando on Sunday and wanted to stop by.

"Come on!"

My daughter and I were sitting out on the back porch waiting for them to arrive and Massey asked me when I had last seen her?

The last time was probably my sisters' wedding, around 1974 or 1975.

The rest has been all cyber.

I was looking back at the text she had sent and commented to my daughter:

The last text she sent me before this one, was sent in March of 2010, right after I lost my job at LongHorn, when Tim had already lost his. You know what she wrote to me?  (I said as I scrolled back)

She had written:

"Hey, Kelly! Not

sure if you

remember me-I

was a DZ with Cindy. Haven't

talked to you in

years but will be

praying for God to

turn your bad

situation into

something

wonderful. Take

care and God

Bless!

Dedra"

After that she continued to follow our journey, trials, tribulations and eventual triumph, through my blog and social media.

And here we were, together again as Tim and I add yet another chapter to our life and doing better than ever.

She loved me when I was a kid, prayed for me when I needed it as a middle aged wife and mother who was out of work, and more importantly took time out of her own life to come see and visit our wonderful twist of  fate after a decade of struggling.

How awesome is that?

After showing them our humble but funky and eclectic new/old home, we walked across the street and took a sunset boat ride with my brother.

When they had first pulled into our driveway and she got out of her car, the years simply fell away.

I kid you not, she looked exactly the same, and the bond of friendship was immediate.

It was a wonderful time, and such a thoughtful gesture on her part.

She brought us a great house warming basket, filled with homemade sourdough bread (my absolute favorite) little Claxton Fruit Cake snacks  (#ClaxtonGirl) and a great Welcome Sign for our new/old house.

We had a blast chatting away with Massey on the boat ride.

She taught us the secret to taking a decent Selfie, and answered all our "Old Lady" questions without making us feel stupid.

She's a pretty good young'un.



Both us Oldies were on the same page about how hard it was to hold your cell phone steady while taking a Selfie, and  pushing the button...with just one hand.

She commented she sometimes held the phone and her husband pushed the button, when taking a pic of them both.

#BeenThereDoneThat






Massey even brought up my stressing about whether its 'left click' or 'right click' when viewing or signing documents or applications on line.

She has assured me time and time, and time again, that is is always left click... but I still beg to differ.


Then why does the mouse have a right click option?

Also, the hamster upstairs may be running a little slower in that wheel now, but at least he's still moving.

Pretty soon I'm gonna need a mouse up there instead.
They're bigger.

That's gotta help.

Til next time,
COTTON

Totally True Story

Number one: The funnier something is, the harder it is for me stop from laughing, and definitely takes away any ability to whisper.

 Number two:  Whispering is not my forte'. 

(especially when I get tickled about something)

All three of my kids; my husband and both my siblings have witnessed this about me over the years, countless times...and then some.

The worst thing about it, is that it  always seems to happen at the worst possible time...

which in turn makes it even harder to control my silly self.

Oh, it can be during a wedding ceremony or a funeral. 

The more solemn the occasion, the funnier it gets. 

Church services (in general) are a great place to enjoy trying and suppress a good  belly laugh.

Trust me.

 Been there, done that. 

This also applies to a school awards ceremony, play or graduation.

Random things which spontaneously  happen around me when out and about, in the midst strangers or the public in general, are also gold mine opportunities that often tickle me beyond sensibility. 

Unfortunately sometimes my uncontrollable laughter falls on embarrassed ears,

with lots of eye rolling...at me!

I thought the above photo was kinda cute, but had to beg my daughter to take it.

And don't even ask how long I had to beg (small pun) for this hilarious one!

Here's my theory, or take (in general) on life.

"Life's way too short for regrets... so try and keep 'em to a minimum, the best you can."

I worried myself sick... for year after year after year, when Tim and I were flat broke

but can say with complete and absolute conviction, I had at least one good belly laugh every single day, of every single month of every single year.

Apparently I have laughed way beyond the allowed limit.

I wouldn't trade one of my wrinkles for anything on this earth.

I'm one of the luckiest people in the world.

I remember telling our daughter one day, after a trying day of high school, peer pressure and feeling excluded:

"If not having a lot of money is the most horrible thing to ever happen to this family, we're among the luckiest people on the planet. Literally, more than tens of millions have it worse than us."

All three of our kids were old enough to know how hard we struggled to stay afloat when our well of the comfortable life went dry.

They all three learned some pretty important lessons at a pretty young age.

#1

If you get married, and more importantly have kids to raise, be in it to win it...together.

#2

Never give up, even when you feel like you have nothing to give.

#3

Love is so ridiculously easy to afford, we should be ashamed there isn't more of it in our world.

I have so many friends, acquaintances or random people I come across on a daily basis who have the really  tough plate in front of them, with no option of swapping dishes.

#CancerSucks

These are people who are some of  the true heroes in Life.

I'd love to have any one of them if not all of them, sit by me somewhere and us get all tickled about some dumb trivial or hilarious happening and simply just have a good laugh together.  I'm not even opposed to a little peeing in my pants if it's funny enough. I'm mostly sure they would enjoy it more than me.

You know what they say...

I will  always prefer laughter over tears.

Nobody likes a full snot locker and puffy eyes.

I think I raised my kids to feel (and experience) the same way.

I hope to be one of them.

...and always extend your hand to help someone else try and make it as well.

Till next time, COTTON

Playing In The Dirt...Again

We all worked in this past Sunday.

 Me, Massey and even Tim. With three people, we knocked it out in about an hour.

The fire pit was a major project for me last week...

 but think it looks awesome now!

Tim used a chain saw, electric trimmer with a metal blade for all the taller plants, trees and shrubbery. while Massey bagged the trimmings before weed eating around the many trees and flower beds.

We've been borrowing my brothers' JD until I bring my own Johnny Dear down from our Georgia house to live and work with us. His is a Cadillac compared to my Pinto and I'm a nervous wreck the entire time I'm cutting. I start out with the blade up high and in first gear, just to make sure I don't hit any hidden rocks or roots.

Our yards back in Georgia I know like the back of my hand and could almost cut them blind folded.

I'm still getting used to this big and lush yard full of greenery, ferns, vines and vegetation. I walked the entire yard before even starting the mower, picking up loose rocks and noting where all the big exposed roots are.

Then I drove like a granny, taking wide slow turns and never getting too close to the brick border surrounding the entire front yard.

All you have to do is hit one rock and it can put a mower not only out of commission but sometimes in a shop with a hefty repair bill.(been there done that)

I got in touch with my repairman back home in Georgia and he's going to tune up my Lil Johnny Dear, put a new battery , spark plug and filter on him before I go pick it up in April.

My brother had loaned us his weed eater as well, along with the blade attachment since my weed eater is in our old garage along with Johnny, my battery powered chain saw and several other of my gardening tools.Tim did most of the trimming. I bet that weed eater weighed half what I do and is certainly taller than me.

It was a bit much for me, even with just the string cutter attached. I'm glad I borrowed his though, because I've been saying I wanted to invest in a good sturdy weed eater that would last me for years and years.

I always went to Lowe's or Home Depot and got one of the $75.00 ones. If I'm lucky, it will get me through maybe two summers.

I told Tim, after cutting with it for less than five minutes that it was simply too heavy and long for me to handle. I felt like I'd been wrassling after thirty seconds.

I'll just stick with my El Cheapo, which I can swing around like a boss all day long.

Using a larger one will put me in a yard with both my parents like in the above picture.

My age has never really bothered me before. It still doesn't.

What bothers me, is having the almost sixty year old body of a woman who's slung and carried heavy plates and trays on a daily basis for almost four decades.

At least its kept me fit for the most part. I wish it had helped with gray hair and wrinkles...

 but it didn't.

I guess I'll settle for whatever God gives me...

just as long as He keeps on giving.

He gave us a decade long test of faith.

 We felt like giving up, and that's okay.

The important thing is not to.

It truly amazes me when people worry or fret about the silliest problems.

Actually they're not even problems, but  inconveniences. 

There's nothing that rubs me the wrong way like  people who complain about everything.

It makes me feel like saying "If you have everything to complain about...maybe you should instead focus on being grateful you have so much in the first place."

I know we do.

Each and every one of us.

I may be old but my time on this earth, every single day, is gold.

Even if you have a myriad of problems going on and feel overwhelmed, there are literally millions and millions of others with problems which make your own seem like a hang nail.

And if you happen to be that person I may (or may not) know, with problems so huge (literally or physically) it overwhelms your entire being and  existence...

what kind of person would I be, to not put you ahead of myself when I worry or pray?

There's always another side to a story.

We've luckily always been able to swim to shore, even if we had to tread water first, then dog paddle.

This world is a literal "Hot Mess" but I have faith in the goodness of humanity, and the fact us good guys totally outnumber the bad, and...

#Majority Rules.

Till next time, 

(an always grateful)

 COTTON