https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100026744115185
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mwsrwritings
https://in.pinterest.com/mwsrwritings/
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/MwsR
https://www.bloglovin.com/v2/own_profile
Not “autonomy,” which means the right to self-govern, “autotomy” is a zoological noun that describes the bizarre defense mechanism of an animal in the wild (like a lizard) who detaches a part of its body to escape a predator. More specifically, Merriam-Webster defines autotomy as “reflex separation of a part (such as an appendage) from the body,” or “division of the body into two or more pieces.”
A technical noun, “borborygmus” is a word that describes a certain embarrassing sound made in your gut. Cambridge Dictionary defines “borborygmus” as “a continuous low sound made by the movement of liquid and gas in the body.” Let’s be honest, the word sounds as weird as the noise it describes.
Also written as “cattywampus,” this unusual word has several meanings, including as a noun for “an imaginary, fierce wild animal.” More commonly, “catawampus” is used as an adjective that Dictionary.com defines as “something that’s askew or awry” (like a teenager’s bedroom) or something that is diagonally across from something else.
“Curmudgeon” is a fun way to call someone a cranky jerk. The Oxford Dictionary definition of this noun (which we swear was written about our great-aunt Alice) is “a bad-tempered person, especially an old one.” The thesaurus lists “sourpuss” and “grouch” as other amusing variations of the word.
It had to be you know, there was no more me living on pins and needles. There was no possible way, I could let you rule the rest of my decisions, for my life left to live.
I had to leave when I did. It was getting so hectic and unbearable. I was virtually a prisoner to the a deck of cards, never knowing when the next card would fall or what it would be. It was not the life I wanted for me.
Familiar was never a reason to stay, and to be treated that way. Love was not going to fight all your demons you had built around yourself and mine too. One of us had to let go. One of us had to love enough to break free. That one who did was me. I loved myself for once in my life, back then, on that day. The day when I turned and waved.
I was desperate but not foolish, I could take care of myself and that I did. Without you, or him, or anyone in my family circle back then. I survived to make a new way, forget past judgements that were thrown my way. I was going to be a better me and live to tell. My own stories of personal hell.
I did it, here I am writing a post on my own webpage, because this time I am the in “charge of” host. I am the one who gets to recall as I see fit, all the darkness , each and every bit. I get to decide to give time to thinking, of the things that help me so tight against the wall to hell back then. I am the one who in all intense description, yet, still lives it over and over again, not you. Never you.
I will manage at times to appear to regress, see myself sometimes crying out and starting to stress. I find that I love you still despite all I choose to let go of. I find I want you in my life despite the cruel ways you use to let me dangle and twist and almost choke my own life out.
I find that pain is no more a server of knowledge, and sometimes gives us enough to carry on. I find myself trudging past all the why’s and what if’s and I find mostly I am still so lost in it… I know it has become like a part of my skin, serving a purpose that I cannot see, a part of forgiveness that I had to give to me. A part that says I am no more a loser and a no good. I am a person who has loved and lost. More lost than been loved. I am a person who caries their heart on their shoulders, and still holds out a hand. I cannot picture me any other kind of man.
I wanted to just tell you, should you ever read, these words I have written and left for you to see,
MwsR<3
No more a prisoner! Hmm, that sounds good if only my eyes and heart would agree!
I already post so much daily but I had something I needed to share.
I am adopted. Many things around that helped me to become who I am today. I know there ae many of you out there who have contemplated adopting and I would not want to discourage that by any means. I just want to talk about my story. I know there are many out there like me, who have a story different from the ones you hear. The television, books, and news make adoption out to be the best thing sometimes, and while that is the case for many, it is not for others.
I am not a “bash adoption person”, on the contrary…
If you can love someone completely, without bias or harm, then do it! Lots of children, and others need to be adopted. They need love, nurturing, caring and a stable home environment. If though you are seeking adoption for any other self satisfying urges, desires or fulfillment, or to be a “savior” to someone then you might want to think about it over again. No one wants someone to adopt them out of pity or because you feel like being a good Samaritan. They want actual caring, selfless people. Humans are and must not be an “agenda” for anyone seeking monetary praise. You are not here to necessarily “save” another individual. You might find you are the one who they save. Just saying.
I was adopted as an infant. I did not have my world turned upside down by being ripped out of the arms of my biological parents. I did not have a life where I was taken from the only family I had and given away to some orphanage. I was not found on a door step.
I was adopted by a family member. I was adopted in a court of law. I was too young to decide where I wanted to go and frankly I did not have a difficult time being placed in my relatives home. I was a baby! Some other people may not have had the same experiences as I but that is okay.
My biological father died before my adoption. He was fatally shot. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. My biological mother was alone for the first time with two kids. She did not fair well with all that, let’s just say. She was not able to care for me and my sister. She had to leave me with my grandfather, and then I was adopted by my Aunt.
I never really understood the power of that dark period for my biological mother back then. I figured liked most she was taking the easy route. I figured she was being a sorry mother. I never fully understood how she must have felt back then. Now, I can somewhat see what she must of felt. Years I hated her, yet hate seems like a too strong of word for how I felt about her. I never saw her till I became an adult, and then it was like a lightbulb came on and I felt something I never knew I could, about her. She made me sad, she made me feel pity for her. I realized the first time I saw her, that she was actually a HUMAN…yeah, seems she was not one until I actually saw her.
I so hoped that first time, I would get all my answers answered, but I did not. wanted to hug her and hear about how much she missed me, but I did not hear that. I also thought we would get together and go to her house and she would show me her life and what all she did, but that never ever happened. I was standing before my own biological mother and felt more of a stranger than I did her own flesh and blood. I felt so out-of-place and awkward. Here, I had waited 23 years to see her, to talk to her, to hug her, to know her… They say parting is such sweet sorrow, but that day felt like terrible sorrow. I was happy to finally see her, and I was delighted to hear her voice, smell her perfume, and touch her skin. Sadly, I was wanting this instant connection, this simultaneous combustion. It was not there.
I was more at home in a hotel lobby than I felt with her. That was okay because I was determined for us to change all that.
Some times things do not go as we plan…sometimes they never will. We should expect the least from someone and we will never be disappointed.
I was finally face to face with this ICONIC figure in my life. Even though she was not an active participant in my life, that did not matter, she was. I found myself looking her up and down and studying her talk, studying her walk, and mannerisms. I was soaking all that up like a “sponge in water”.
To be continued…
MwsR ❤
I remember that day as clearly as if it were today. I was a younger mother with three young kids. I had the news playing on the television. I always watched Good Morning America, a news program. I was folding baskets of clothes and drinking my coffee.
My coffee that I drank was black and black would soon serve as a description for that day. September 11th it was. Black day in the world’s history.
We lost so many lives that day. I see people in other countries always dying and losing their lives, but until this day, Americans were not tragically affected as much as we were in our lifetime, with all that death and terrorism.
You sometimes take for granted that you are safe, that you are not going to be affected by what the world has going on. Unfortunately though, we, Americans were. I am an American and if I had been in another place in this world, this tragedy would still strike a sense of uncertainty, of being unsafe, and of loss. I cannot speak for the other parts of our world but I am certain tragedy no matter where, who is involved, or how it is in reference to us, we all are impacted.
I believe my naive sense of being safe in America left that day in September.
I was watching this tragedy unfold live on my American news program. Even my kids had a sense that something was really wrong. I remember calling my husband at his work and feeling so panicked and scared at the same time. He always tries to reassure me of things so he was desperately trying to make sense of what I was telling him at the very same time. He was in shock and he tuned in to news on the radio station he was listening to. It was so fresh and so new that I remember the news correspondents were trying to make a judgement as to what they were hearing . You could tell they were struggling to find the words to say what they were being told and what they were seeing for the first time. It soon turned to panic in their eyes and I found myself glued to the television. I was trying to come to terms with it all.
Never before had something like this and of the same magnitude happened in my lifetime. I was just all struck.
I think the hardest thing to watch was the many individuals that were jumping from the high-rise buildings and out of the windows to free themselves from being burned alive. That was terrible. I have no words to describe that. I had o take my young kids into another room so that they would not see me cry or see those poor helpless people choose the fate of their own lives. They would willing jump rather than BURN alive. How devastating is that. Imagine you were their loved ones and you saw them jump. The news replayed these kinds of scenes so much you felt like you knew every detail of those days following.
I think that I shall never look at another high-rise building the same. I now dread being in a hotel, even, that has many floors. Even though I was not in those buildings it has greatly impacted me.
Those Twin Towers were huge and those people , some of them, never had a chance to survive.
I still feel the impact of that all .
What kind of person does it take to bring such devastation to another group of individuals, that you do not know?
I often try to think of who all was in those buildings. I think of the child who might had been visiting their father or mother at work. I think of the mother who lost her child or children to this event. I also think of the many people who realized they were not going to make it and what went through their minds as they accepted their fate.
It is so sad and disheartening to know that those people, their families and their friend’s lives were so abruptly changed forever. They will try to go on with their daily lives but the world will remind them always of that day. They will see it on the television all the time and read it in the papers and books and magazines. They will never get a chance to let it rest.
They will have mourning for their lifetime.
I am so sorry for that. I have a hard enough time with personal mourning of a loved one myself. To see that magnified would be so unbearable.
As if life came to a stand still, that day back in September 11, 2001, I saw one of the saddest events that forever will shake our minds, our security, and our faith. I saw a nation come together, but I also saw it crumbled just a little more. I lost hope in some of humanity that day as well. Those who did this horrendous thing, they are not human in my mind. They were cruel.
I hope we all learn something from this tragedy. I hope we became stronger together because of it. I also hope that everyone knows we are not guaranteed a tomorrow and we should live fully today.
As on September 11, 2001, I will remember, and so will all of America and even beyond.
We all should stand together, less we all fall.
Thanks for reading!
MwsR ❤
Memorial 9-11 tshirts are available on Amazon. Click link below
Books about 9-11 , click link below
9-11 Memorial stuff, click link below
She is talented and shy about sharing her stuff.
I managed to get these she let me share.
The first is her son.
The second is her daughter.
Mws R Writings 