Amazing Grace

Today I went to Sunday school. I saw a smiling face.

We sang how Jesus loves me, of his amazing grace,

The preacher stood before us with a smile upon his face,

He told us of a story where true love was displaced,

The boy left home and spent his all, he squandered all he had ,

He lead a life of trouble then he thought back to his dad,

He looked up from a pig pen with mud upon his face,

He said I'll just go home to dad a servant at his place,

He walked along the dusty road his steps a rapid pace,

He wondered if they'd welcome him, would they reject his face?

His dad glanced down the dusty road, Who is that lad I see?

I can't believe my eyes he said God's brought him back to me.

With hurried steps he ran to him, he welcomed him with glee,

Today we'll have a feast for kings my boy's come back to me.

 Today I went to Sunday school, I saw a smiling face

I've come back to the father, I sing Amazing Grace.

Crazy Grandma

I used to tell my children. Don't have children, I don't want to be a grandma.

They would just look at me like I was crazy. I meant it, every single word.

When Lacy my youngest daughter became pregnant she did not even tell me.

I wonder why? Anyway inevitably I found out. I ask her, Lacy why didn't

you tell me? She answered; Mama you don't want grandchildren. How stupid I was.

Stupid is a harsh word but not harsh enough. Then my beautiful little Michelle was born.

Julangela I called her. She was so beautiful with silver blonde hair and a scream that

could shatter glass. Then my oldest daughter gave me two little boys. Both are mischievous and bold, both daring and acrobatic. They climb, and roll and torment my dog. They have broken my valuable things, and have won my crazy heart. I can't even remember not being a grandma nor do

I want to. So if you get a chance encourage your children to procreate and then hang on

for a fun exciting ride.

I Dream a Dream

As a night bird sings a familiar song my

 hopes and dreams go on and on,

dreams of houses big

and cars shiny bright, or will I be content tonight?

My house is small but my roof don't leak,

and in my kitchen there's food to eat.
On my feet is a pair of hose

full intact without any holes,

My shoes are sound, I walk where I will,

and for this day I have paid all  my bills,

What more can I ask, I am sickness free

but if some were to come to me,

I'd still have to say that my lifes been good,

my dreams fulfilled as only God could.

As the little bird sings his song tonight,

I rest easy knowing that I am alright.

What Have I Done?

As days of life drift slowly by I often wonder what I was put here for?

I am a friend to the friendless, a mother to my children, a sister to my siblings, a child

to my mother, a wife to my husband, a co-worker to my co-workers yet in all of this am I

doing and being what I should to fulfill my purpose? Do I do enough? Do I give enough?

Have I influenced one soul in a positive way? Have I been the reason for positive change in the

life of others? Am I about my fathers business or have I goofed off and dropped the ball?

Only time will tell so I continue hoping that in the end I will somehow have pleased

my maker, the maker of heaven and earth, the only one who matters.

The Last Day

If I knew that today would be my last

What would I do, Who would I ask?

To forgive me for harsh words or deeds,

How could I help fill someones needs?

Would I cry or be depressed,

Or would I strive to do my best?

To win a soul or help the lost

to find their way before the cross.

And as I go would I look back and

see my heart was filled with black,

And on my knees before the throne

I'd ask forgiveness for my wrong.

And as my black heart's cleansed and white,

I know that he may come tonight,

While others here may take my place

I smile and sing Amazing Grace.

Thumbelina

Her name was Thumbelina she was ugly as could be

Not soft and cute like dolls today yet beautiful to me,

I held her tight I told her stuff she was my dearest friend,

When Sandy ripped her arm off I knew she would not mend,

I carried her to mama and placed her in mom's hands

She said bring needle and some thread I'll fix her up again

With tender hands she sewed each stitch with thread that did not match,

All I wanted most of all was Thumbelina back,

As I became a woman and dolls were put away,

All I have is memories of some far yesterday,

And then it was on Christmas a few short years ago,

A box with shiny paper tied with a pretty bow.

I peeped inside It could not be, a treasure from my past

I lifted Thumbelina out Oh what is this I ask

Her limbs intact no mitch matched thread around her arm you see,

My sister searched this whole wide world to find this doll for me.

My grandchild begged to hold her once with hesitation done
She gave her back I looked at her Oh! my where is her thumb.

Terrified Teddies

In my den are teddy bears all lined up in a row,

there's red and brown and beige and gold with girly frilly bows,

They sit alone from day to day untouched by human hands

They come to me as gifts of love from family and from friends,

Then she walks in with long blonde hair determination sure,

She dosn't stop till she has her hands on each and every bear,

Their in the chair, their upside down from ceiling to the floor

The look of horror on their face till she walks out the door

In my den are teddy bears all lined up in a row

there's red and brown and biege and gold with girly frilly bows

If I Had A Dollar

If I had a dollar for each time I've felt his grace

I'd put it in my pocket then I'd give a lot away,

I'd find a needy person and I'd buy them some new clothes,

I'd find someone with torn up socks and buy them some new hose.

I'd buy some food for someone who has nothing left to eat

then, I'd buy a home for someone who is living on the street.

And if I'm left with nothing when the evening time is come,

I'd smile and feel his grace again though money I have none.

I Met A Friend Today

On the street today I saw a friend I never knew before

A tattered shirt and ragged pants set him apart once more,

The people there they pass him by as though he don't exist

But underneath that shaggy coat I knew I'd met a friend

He grinned at me, he tipped his hat, I offered him some lunch,

 A grin as big as Cheshire cat as he said thanks a bunch,

I watched him saunter down the street and he vanished out of sight,

Underneath my breath I said a prayer that he'll be safe tonight.

This to Shall Pass

When tear drops fall and will not cease,

Then days seem long and nights won't leave,

When sadness overwhelms the heart 

and grief lingers in the dark,

Look up above to skies of blue

The raindrops fall God cries for you. 

Another day will bring the sun,

Through fields of flowers you will run,

And looking back on days of pain

You will look around and welcome rain.

Our Differences

                                   http://angelasullivanfineart.com/works/491884/crossing-the-pond
   I guess with cigarettes it is either that you love them or hate them. I don't believe there is a middle of the road. If you are addicted to them they are closer than a friend. right in you front pocket or at least close within reach. You eat , you reach for them. You drink, again your hand fumbles instinctively for them. You experience any stress and you feel the instant need to smoke. I know all of these things because I live with and love someone who has smoked for 45 years.
          I have never smoked but I can remember when I was a lot younger I found or somehow obtained a cigarette. I snuck out back and pretended to smoke. Funny how of all the things in life some things of insignifence stand out as if it happened yesterday. Anyway, there I was standing behind our house leaning up against the cool cinder blocks pretending to smoke. I was feeling so grown up and powerful. Why I only smoked that once I don't know because I still remember that feeling. It felt really good, or maybe it was just the adrenalin from my little secret.
        My husband Benny smoked when I met him but I sure didn't know then what I know now or I probley wouldn't have married him. Now I love him with all my heart but we have been through some hard times partly because of him smoking. When my children were small he smoked in the house. I didn't know any better. Thank goodness none of them had asthma or breathing problems.
       Because of him being a smoker my life has been changed. I have endured riding in the pouring down rain with the window down cause he had to smoke. I have seen him buy cigarettes when we needed milk. I have smelled smoke and smelled like smoke. I have seen him angry and almost frantic when he was out.
       Today after 28 years of marriage and many heart attacks, severe lung disease,along with constant shortness of breath he still craves cigarettes. He quit about 2 years ago but the desire still remains. He will never be over them, his love for them and his addiction to them. He is in a hospital bed now struggling for breath with each coughing spell. Now he has ekg changes which is probley the beginning of another heart attack. If he were offered a cigarette right now mabye he would take it even though I hope he wouldn't.
       Now that I have said all of that, here is the rest of the story. I am greived and my heart aches for what I have lost and what I am surely going to lose. I realize that I have certainly been blessed. I have been married to him for over half of my life. I have lived with him longer than I lived with my Mom and Dad. He is my everything. He is my best friend and the love of my life and now I stand at a crossroads. What will happen of course I can't say for sure but I have a pretty good idea. I dread the thought of having to live alone. Even as he has been in the hospital I sit at home sometimes just me and the dog and I don't like it. Benny became disabled in 1993 and since then day in and day out we are together. Now that our comfort is threatened I am afraid, Afraid of being alone and  taking care of myself. I have depended on him for too many things. He washes my clothes and keeps my house clean. He holds me when I am lonely and comforts me when I am sad except for now because he dosn't realize my fears. I can't tell him that. I think of all I will lose. The gentleness of his embrase. The reckless abandon of his laughter. The warmth of his skin. The scent of him. 
His crazy thoughts which are so different than mine. He is thin while I am fat. He is friendly while I am reserved. He is strong when I am weak. He makes me laugh. Despite our differences He is everything to me.
      I hate Cigarettes.

I'm Just No Good Without Him

I'm Just No Good Without Him

My husband who from this point on I will refer to as My Benny is in

the hospital. I am Home Alone and I don't like it. Not only am I sad but I hear

things that go bump in the night. My dog Oliver is even sad. For instance today

I came home from the hospital and he is just howling to beat the band. I sat down on the sofa and even though I tried to console him he just wasn't right. Another reason that I know I'm just no good without him is that I went into the kitchen to make me a balogna sandwich and I glanced at the dog dish and realilzed he was totally out of food. No wonder Oliver cries when he is left alone with only me. I miss My Benny and want him to come home. I'm Just No Good Without Him.

http://angelasullivanfineart.com/works/471864/follow-the-leader

A Dog's Love

http://angelasullivanfineart.com/works/456062

I look at you with trusting eyes, Your scent I won't forget.  I lavish

you with kisses on your face that is now wet. My heart is tied to your heart,

I will love you till I die. A dog's love goes beyond the grave

and never says goodbye.

Top of The Mornin

Top of The Mornin

Today is a wonderful day because I am still breathing, and breathing easily I might add.

I do not need supplemental oxygen. I can walk without a cane and I don't have to be confined to a

wheelchair. I am somewhat in my right mind. I can and do make my own decisions. I am able to support

myself. I have a great job as far as jobs  go. I am a nurse and have been part of saving the lives of others.Better than that I have an awesome home life. I am a painter of

pretty things. Some are good and some not so good. I have the pleasure of loving and being loved by my

husband, my children and my grandchildren. When I do have a bad day I have comfort in knowing that there will be a tomorrow. And if not, that will be okay too because I will hopefully be going to an even better place. So in light of all this Top of The Mornin to ya! Have a blessed day.

The Other Side of The Rainbow

The Other Side of The Rainbow

James Elisher Johnson

June 28 2010 my dad went to the other side of the rainbow.

In his memory I post this.

Who was he? I never want to forget so while it is so fresh it hurts I will tell you.

He was a great dad. He was good to me. I can remember when I was a small child he held me lovingly in his lap. He smiled at me a lot with my blonde curly hair I thought he hung the moon. I knew he loved me. I felt it always. He taught me so much, from fishing, and playing to hard work he helped to make me who I am today. He taught me to never give up and that nothing is impossible to those who persist. He was a hard worker very rare was the time that he would take a break. He was up at first light and to bed early. He taught us never to cheat , lie, or steal. He held us to a high level of honor. He had steel blue eyes and gentle hands. He was missing part of his thumb from an accident. He had soft gray hair which was always neat and trim. I remember him in overalls and in later years a baseball cap. He loved fresh tomato's and mayonaise in his lima beans. He was an avid fisherman and had a camp on the Alabama river. He taught me to fiddle for worms, tie on a fish hook and how to clean fish, and roof a house. He didn't go to church when I was a child but prayed a lot during his last days here. He called me puddin. He thought I could do anything. I thought he could. I loved him more than even I realized. He loved cats, and sitting on the porch watching the hummingbirds. He could be found there early in the morning as the sun came up. His coffee was always a half a cup with just a little creamer. I can remember him whistling as he worked. In fact I just remember him. Randy Travis wrote a song about him , it was titled I thought he walked on water. I know it had to be about him because it described him to a T. When I think of him I think of the river, of fishing, and hard work, a big open smile and hands that rolled biscuit dough. When I would say I can't he would say yes you can. I remember hearing him say I love you baby.

I miss him already.

The Coming Storm

As you know I am an artist. I painted this in response to the sad news of my dad's health condition.

The Coming Storm.

It was Sunday, Fathers day. Three weeks ago my dad who is 86 years old decided to go and check the garden. He got on his motorized chair

and started out. About two hours later when he did not return my mom went to the door to take a look. Off in the distance she could hear him calling. Mom woke my sister Sandy and she went to him, laying there on the hard ground.  She didn't know he had already had visitors. My dad loves cats and he has a mama cat and some kittens. Each one of them had drifted by to lay beside him until help would come. Each one of them heard his cries and responded in their own way. That was just the beginning. My dad was taken to the hospital and was in horrible pain. In and out of confusion we watched him. Sad yet realizing that we are so blessed to have had him for this long in pretty good health.

Sunday Fathers day we came to see him in droves. Probley not what the doctors and nurses expected. I am sure they think we should come more often and less in number yet everyone lives in different towns and none of us within a 2 hr drive of the hospital. To our surprise he knew all of us. Calling each one by name he just kept saying take some pictures so the children won't forget. I knew what he meant. He knew more. He kissed the kids, held hands with my mom, laughed and made plans. We visited for a couple of hours and then all went our separate ways. Tuesday Sandy took  mama back to see him. He was confused and did not recognize them. He was in pain. The doctors spoke with them and told them that he probley has cancer of the spine. Crying my sister called me and we wept together over the phone. When it is your dad you are never ready. When it is your dad it hurts to the bone. I am only glad that God gave us one more day ironically it was Father's day. A wonderful day with our Father, (Daddy).

Even though we had a wonderful day yet even now I feel it , The Coming Storm. 

11-7

11-7 , The best shift. In my opinion of course. Humor, laughter, giddy laughter I mean comes out in all of us in the wee hours of the morning. Work is a wonderful thing to do because not only do you make money but you meet the most unique people. This story is about someone I met at the hospital in the middle of the night. The security guard. I don't even know her name yet I speak to her night after night. She is so nice. Always smiling and pleasant. She is in her 50's, a woman of short statue, long wavy hair and a few missing teeth. How my life crossed with hers is a blessing to me. It makes me think about the luxuries I have like a car. She comes in at 11 pm and gets off at 8 am. Last night it was a horrible night out. The wind was blowing hurricane force and the rain coming down in torrents making the 30 degree weather feel like 15. She waltzed into ICU with the usual smile accentuating all the missing teeth. I like this lady , she makes me smile. She stated that she was cold tonight. She was wearing long sleeves under a woolly vest with a jacket over. I ask her why she was so cold? Obviously it was warm in the setting of ICU. She told me she just could not seem to warm up after her walk to work. Usually she rides a bike but not tonight , tonight she walked for the distance of approximately 7 miles through the wind and rain. The weather was to bad to ride the bike. Then it hit me of how lucky I am, how blessed that I never have to walk to work especially in the rain. I look at her as unfortunate because she doesn't own a car. She looks at it as a blessing that she has a bike and is able to walk if she needs to. Then I consider how I would feel if I had to walk to work especially on the 11-7 shift in the pouring down rain in 30 degree weather. As far as I know she has never once called in sick. And as I pull out of the parking lot in my nice warm truck, I think of her again knowing in just a little while she will start the long walk home in the pouring down rain with the wind still whipping the leaves along the highway. I almost wait to offer her a ride home but then I don't and am grieved by my decision not to.

The Boy Next Door

He was 12, a small framed little boy with dark skin and a beaming wide heart, and a bright smile. His short life started in turmoil. His dad in prison and a mom who left him at a very early age. However the love of his life was his grandmother. A grandmother who cherished him and tried to teach him right from wrong. A grandmother who sent him to school each day thinking, assuming he was safe. His name Tre Juan Figures (Trey) a relatively happy child who rode a bike, played basketball like many other young kids in his community. That happiness faded each day as he went to school. Each day as he left home and knew that he would be embarrassed, bullied, and made to feel worthless. Day after day this continued and a little boy who wanted to be happy began a downhill spiral. A spiral which ended in a bedroom decorated with little boy things, Harry Potter Books, baseball cards, basketballs and such. A room in bitter silence as a little boy hung there lifeless no longer able to endure the pain of this world. His family had notified the school repeatedly of the abuse. of the bullying of the sadness endured at the hands of classmates. Tre Juan did have troubles yet he did not deserve this. What can be done? I guess only time will tell. The investigation continues. ( Sad but true. The info I obtained from the local paper and gossip of course. No matter , it sickens me to my gut. How many children endure abuse at the hands of their peers. I myself was not popular as a child and I am sure things in my life were very much affected by this. My youngest child just this week after hearing of this sad tragedy told me that she endured harassment in the 5th grade. Why? How can we make this stop? Let's do something, anything. Let's make a difference. Please comment.)

Naked

A few weeks ago I decided it was time for me to visit a gynecologist for a routine PAP. I had not had a check up in maybe I don't know 10 years or so. Is that smart? Probley not. Anyway I went and after filling out mounds of paperwork and answering questions which I may not have been totally honest about I was taken to a room and told to undress. Oh Yeah!. You can just hang your clothes there I was told. I looked over to a small rack behind the door. Then I hoist my oversize body up to this table to sit. I am given a flimsy sheet of paper maybe 14x24" to cover my breast. another a little larger meant to cover from waist to knees. And I sit. I look at my watch and the minutes drag by. I look around the dingy little room. Clean yet not like the ones portrayed in popular magazines. I wonder if this is how it has felt for many women who find themselves in a little back office awaiting an abortion they would rather the world not know about. I am alone. Naked, on a little table waiting for someone I have never met before. Naked for a total of 35 minutes. Alone. I thought about getting dressed and just walking out. I feel ok. I don't really need this. But I stay and then he enters. A man with salt and pepper hair. A crooked yet pleasant smile. Mid 60's I would say as he peers over the top rim of his glasses. And then as he talked gently and calmly and I realized that he is actually just as wonderful as the women who had been to him before have told me that he is. The women I work with , nurses ,women who have also visited this office and who have also sat here naked on this same little table. And wanted to leave yet stayed and then invited someone like me to endure the same. Then just as quickly I am dressed and walk out into the world with a cloudy sky and the brisk cool air of November and I wonder to myself will I come back next year or will it be ten. Oh well, time will tell.

Anger Within

He is in his 40's. The prime of his life assured. Invincible , on top of the world, that was a few months ago. A few months ago when he first noticed that nagging cough which would not quit. That increased shortness of breath. Finally, reluctantly he sought medical attention. Test were done and a short time later he learned that the the little nagging cough which irritated him was a giant. A giant called Cancer. Lung cancer which has now spread to multiple places throughout his body. Cancer which he will probably battle for the rest of his life. He has no hair. His bald head glimmers in the glow of the bright exam light. Angrily he yells out. Yells at his family, the nurses and anyone else within close proximity. Every touch brings pain as his skin is sensitive to the slightest touch. His pain level increased and unrelieved by even the strongest medications. He is mad. He comes across as a mean bully. Some of the nurses say that they don't want to go into his room. He is so verbally abusive. He screams out at everything. He demands water, He demands food, He demands attention. He is what the medical field would call non compliant. I step back briefly from the obvious and realize I would be mad to. It is one of the only things left which he can control. It is now that I realize I am saying a small faint prayer. Lord help me to see through his anger and be sensitive to his loss. Help me to listen and to be what he needs at this time. Help me be able to see through the anger, the anger within.