Sleepless in Sayre

Here it is 1:45 a.m. with no sandman in sight, and I’m growing just a little weary of lying here staring into the darkness. So, I get out of bed, slip on some sandals and head outside to the front porch swing. Not that this little town ever provides much hustle and bustle but what there was during the day has now completely faded away.

First thing, the many insects swirling around and around seemingly battling for their place in the bright streetlight caught my attention. I can also hear a chorus of crickets all around me. Curiously there is a bird singing in a nearby tree that it seems you only hear at night, which instantly carries me back to a time of late nights at church camp where I’ve heard its kind before. Just a few blocks over begins a cascade of barking dogs. I assume some alley cat is sauntering by taunting its freedom of movement to them. In the quiet I notice there is actually a small but comforting squeak from the hinges as I swing back and forth. The heavy night air smells so fresh and untainted. Always seeing the stars and moon above, to me, somehow produces a feeling of permanence and security. 

About then a car drives by and I ponder where it could be off to this time of night when most everything in this town is closed. As I lay my head back and close my eyes, I can hear a distant faint hum of the semi-trucks traveling I-40 just on the outskirts of town. Suddenly there is a rustle in the grass and as I try hard to focus into the dark I can make out that it’s just an old stray dog wandering by. 

While I sit and sway back and forth on my porch swing in the middle of the night, I’ve come to realize I am no longer bothered by insomnia at all. Instead, I am blissfully relishing all the peacefulness this night holds in my small-town life. I just hope I can’t sleep more often.

Trying to understand

My sweetie got me a new laptop for Christmas, and I paid my yearly dues for my WordPress blog. When my fingers hit the keys, it seems all the feels running amuck in my mind and heart take a swift trip down through my arms, fingertips and onto the keys. There, I can find them written on a screen. Today’s post is just another compilation of all of that.

It’s nearing the anniversary of my daddy’s passing. It’ll actually be two years come April 10th. Of course, I’ll never ever forget that day. I was working out in the yard in a flower bed when I got the frantic call from my mother. In her panicked voice she told me she found daddy lying in the driveway unresponsive. I’ll never understand why she called me and not 911 but I can only assume she was in too much shock. I dropped everything and headed south. In my state of fear, I could not remember the address of my parents’ house. I was frantically trying to give directions, descriptions and throwing out neighbor’s names to the dispatcher over the phone all the while my car was accelerating more than it ever had before. I paid no mind to the speedometer until reaching 100 mph when I figured the governor must have kicked in and said that’s’ enough. Or perhaps the spirit of my father had something to do with it. At that speed it was such a blur, but I could have sworn I passed a car with emergency lights on top going the opposite direction. Never in my life had I wanted so badly for them to turn and come after me. If so, they would have been there right as I arrived. But for whatever reason, that just didn’t happen. I pulled in to see the most heartbreaking scene of my life. My mother bent over crying over my lifeless father’s body. I ran over to him and I could tell he was no longer there. Still, I pleaded with him not to leave us.

It seemed an eternity waiting to hear sirens. My mother asked if i knew how to do CPR. I’d had trained many years ago. And as last I remembered it wasn’t as important to breathe as it was to keep the heart pumping. All of those classes had failed to prepare me for the fact ribs would break. As I pressed on his heart, as best I could remember how to, the feel of his fragile ribs cracking was so very hard to bear. I knew in my heart he was already gone, and I didn’t want to damage him anymore. The ambulance finally arrived along with some firemen and other law enforcement. They began to work on him with such force it seemed cruel. One of them instructed my son to take us in the house as they were going to insert something into his groin area. In just a matter of minutes they were off to the hospital while we were all inside shocked and in the very beginning stages of the lifelong grieving process.

Surprisingly we got a call that the ambulance had gotten a heartbeat. So, we all anxiously loaded up to head to the hospital. When we arrived, he was lying in the ER with basically technology keeping his body going. Even at that his heart would stop and again with such cruel force they worked to get it beating again. We stepped out into the hall and it just so happened that daddy’s long time heart doctor was walking by in the ER. He stopped to talk to my mom. He put his arm around her shoulder and told her, at his age and as long as he had been without oxygen his quality of life would be very diminished. The medical team had gotten his heart going again and we went back into the room. I could just tell his body was there, but he was not. Once again, his poor heart stopped, and again they went right back to CPR. As we watched them pressing so hard on his chest, I could see blood backing up into the tube that was running down his throat. I knew how much he must be broken inside, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Knowing my daddy and how this is not how he would ever want to continue to live, I said to mom, they are just hurting him let him go. She finally nodded to them and said, let him go.

I spent the next 6 weeks with my mother. I couldn’t bear to leave her alone at night. As I’m sure some of you know, it’s so hard to know just when to say, I think you’ll be ok now. Knowing they won’t be ok, but life has to go on. These last two years have been the hardest years of my life. I miss my father like crazy, but I also miss the mother I had before he left because she’s not the same anymore. I/we have tried to do all we know to do to help her along this journey. But she refused grief counseling, socialization, or finding anything creative to do. For a brief period, her personality changed so much it was almost like she was trying to recreate the carefree days of her youth. She had spent all but 18 years of her life with my dad. To say she was lost without him is an understatement. She had found “friends” on the internet which were only internet scammers. But there was just no convincing her of that. So, I had no choice but to take away her access to them. It caused so much discord between her and I, that our relationship has been permanently damaged. 

My love language is acts of service so I do all I can for her but yet still leaving her some to do so she doesn’t just become one with the recliner and remote. It actually tears me up inside to watch her struggle every day with a life she no longer cares to live, and I can’t really blame her. Her body becomes weaker every day and I know it won’t be long before decisions will have to be made. Her memory is slipping, and this is new area for us both to navigate. I try to let her still feel she has control and dignity while at the same time knowing I’m soon going to have to start making the final decision on matters because there’s too much she no longer understands. I understand her clutter gives her a feeling of safety and satisfaction while I worry about the hazard of it all. 

I so wish my brother was still here. It’s so hard doing this without siblings. All of my growing up family is already on the other side. She’s lost everyone in her life, all her family, my brother, her long-time best friend and now her husband.  Yes, she’s still got the grandkids, great grand kids and me. But I know how much she longs for those that left her behind.

It seems so cruel when life turns from living to just lonely existing.

Bye……certainly not good bye

I’ve spent the last several years watching the young family across the street live life and grow. I would really enjoy sitting on my front porch watching the young girls play on their bikes, skates, practicing throwing and batting balls, as I’m soaking up that youthful laughter. Also everyday their dogs would come out to run and play. I remember one snowy day the whole family and the dogs were out having a grand time playing in the snow. In the early years I’d see dad come pulling up to the house in his semi truck and the young girls being so excited to see daddy again would come running out and practically climb all over him, young mom was right behind them. I’d often see the girls with young mom coming and going loading and unloading athletic equipment for either practice or games. They might see me on occasions on my porch and we would exchange neighborly waves. It just seemed like I’d watch the girls go in the house and then in no time these tall lanky girls would re-emerge from the house. They were growing up so fast. I figured soon they would be driving. It gave me such joy to see all that youth and energy around that house.

Young mom and I would text and check on one another from time to time. We would try to comfort and console one another when life would hit us with the hard stuff. Her and the girls would leave get well gifts on my porch and at Christmas we would exchange some goodies. I enjoyed seeing her house all decorated outside for Christmas and she enjoyed seeing mine.

Young mom and I hadn’t communicated in a while. I had heard rumor there was a storm brewing. I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I just hoped it would all blow over. But then the day I saw the big u haul backed up to the front door I knew the storm had hit and in its wake the young family were left devastated. It broke my heart to see only certain items being taken out of this young families home and packed away for travel to its new destination. When the u haul was full and finally closed out came the two dogs and two cats. Two dogs were loaded up and one cat was secured. Another young cat climbed onto the car curious as to what was going on. Apparently there wasn’t room for one more cat. Young girl picked it up and took it back up to the porch. In no time young cat was back on the car again. Once again young girl took it backup to the porch. Then the time came for drivers and passengers to take their place in the u haul and the cars The u haul pulled out first followed by the cars. To me it might as well have been a funeral procession because it felt like a death. The life of this young family is now gone for me and I couldn’t hold back tears any longer.

Young cat thinking it had just been let out for some sun and play time stopped for a moment and sat in the middle of the now empty drive way. It is sadly unaware how much his and this young families world has now been forever changed. The splitting of a family is so heart wrenching. Now there won’t be any sparkling Christmas decorations for me to enjoy across the street this year. The once young families home will now just be a cold, dark and lifeless house. I really wanted to keep watching this young family grow and took for granted they would just always be right across the street.

Sitting on my front porch just got a whole lot lonelier.

Molly the dolly

AHHHHCHOOOO oh my goodness it’s so dusty. I remember the first time you saw me, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree! You were so very happy. I was brought to life by you. You held me so tight and told me you would love me forever! That made me so very happy too! We were inseparable and we went on so many fun adventures together. You were so proud to show me off to everyone you came across. You always bragged about me and told me I was the prettiest doll in the whole wide world. You never went to sleep with out me in your arms. It’s funny because you would never let anyone else hold me, you told them I was yours, they had to go get their own. You took such good care of me and made sure I had the nicest clothes. I loved being your dolly. But then all of a sudden I don’t know what happened. One day you called me a cry baby but you were the one making me cry. How come you did not need me to sleep with you anymore? I’m still Molly your dolly, remember? It makes me so very sad to be here forgotten and left in the dust? Did you just outgrow me? I’ve heard some say that could happen. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no no no! I see now…. you have found a new dolly to play with.

Driving Miss Rose

I can’t take my old dog Rose Bud for walks anymore, she’s too arthritic and doesn’t have the stamina anymore. So I load her up and we go for little drives in the evening. I crack the windows open for her so she can take in all the smells of the neighborhoods we pass through. She’ll let out a bark or two if a particular smell warrants it. I don’t mind, she’s not long for this world and it’s mostly peaceful just her and I.

We drive around town mostly. Unfortunately it always leaves me feeling a little melancholy though because of what I encounter. I see elderly houses looking so lonely and forgotten. Some literally shells of their former selves. Once majestic homes that have lost their honor seem to convey the message-time has not been good to me. Dwellings so incredibly run down but yet are still sheltering occupants that I can only imagine how much they must struggle with their daily lives. There are so many homes that the idea of renovation for them is beyond consideration. Some families occupy these less than ideal places because it takes everything they make just to get by. Maintenance and home improvement are way down on the list of their needs. Then there are those that can only be described as shacks but still considered habitable by some because the alternative would be homelessness. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if there wasn’t such an abundance of them.

I like to imagine what they were like when they were brand new and the new owners were so proud to move in. I like to think about the babies that were brought from the hospital and raised in those nice homes. What kind of memories families made in them. Maybe Christmas trees in the window. Neighbors coming over to sit on the porch and chat. Kids running and playing in the yards.

It’s not just the homes though. The buildings that once conducted so much business in town now boarded up or walls/roofs caving in. Then there is the old hotel. I’m sure it has had guests arrive by horseback, covered wagon, train, bus and not long ago automobile. It has provided rest for thousands of guests over the many years, probably since the foundation of the town. Now it is dilapidating by the day but yet eerily still has a light burning inside. Kinda like Motel 6, “We’ll leave the light on for ya.” The only ones left to check in now are the varmint variety.

The last heartbreak

Betrayal of trust is oh so hard to take. It’s such a shock to the system, so devastating, so wrong. It’s sent my mind spinning and questioning everything and everyone. How did this happen, why did this happen.

The stress, inability to eat or sleep as the body struggles to find homeostasis again when normal in now gone. The world is no longer the same. Because of one-none will be granted trust, even though it could well be deserved. Innocent people are being driven away as I lick my wounds.

Tin Man has been playing on repeat as the tears flow. It seems the skies are even in collusion to maintain the mood as dark, grey and without hope as possible. The rain pouring through my ceiling seems almost an added insult to my life as it is.

This heart has taken it’s last battering! It’s no longer open for business. It’s a really good heart I just couldn’t do that to it again, it deserved so much better. I may try and find an out of order sign to wear across it.

Then to have the blame placed squarely on my shoulders. To hear the words,” I really don’t care anymore.” Twisting the knife deeper and harder into my wounded bleeding soul. When only days prior we shared a bed.

Maybe some people are strong enough to handle it but I wasn’t…..I wasn’t at all.

Being made a fool does something to you. It’s an exceptional kind of hurt. It has an element of embarrassment along with a feeling of worthlessness. Why did I deserve this?

Another hard hard lesson learned.

I’ll just be so glad when class is finally over.

Life is but a stream

When we are born we are placed in a small boat and set upon a stream. This beautiful stream is flowing down stream and all around the stream is beauty and wonder. The further we travel down the stream we begin to encounter small twists and turns along with some mild rapids. Yet it’s still a very nice place to be. Still further on though we encounter some rapids that cause us to sit up, pay attention, hold on and learn how to navigate them. Most of the time we are sailing down the stream enjoying our time and all the amazing things we experience along the way.

Then suddenly up ahead we notice we are approaching rough waters. We brace ourselves, hold tight to our little boat and use the skills we have to guide our way through. Once we’ve gotten through we are back to smooth sailing again. There are times, however, we may come around a bend and there are rapids we weren’t expecting. Again we hold tight to our little boat and do our best to manevuer through it all.

Along the way there may come a fork in the stream. We can see one way seems calm and uneventful. The other we notice has rapids that appear to be the fun ones. Some may chose the way of the rapids. This stream starts out with fun rapids and it does seem fun and exciting but then the rapids become more treacherous than anticipated. This choice has brought us into unknown waters and we are afraid. It’s getting harder and harder to hold on to our little boat because the stream is taking us farther and deeper than we thought it would. Although our little boat is strong, because of the path we chose we are faced with large jagged rocks. Our boat crashes into one and we are tossed into the icy cold of reality. We struggle to swim and stay afloat as we have gotten carried away. It’s possible that now we may go under never to resurface. It’s also possible that we may reach a rock and hold on for dear life begging for mercy. Fortunately another boat comes along. We grab hold and hoist ourselves inside with all our might. Sitting there we are grateful for another chance, another boat to rescue us from the wrong path we took. As we sit in our boat, the bright sun warming us, we have time to reflect on the decision we made and the lesson learned.

There will be times the stream will no longer be going down stream, it has shifted and now we are faced with going upstream. We put out the oars and row with all our might. We grow weary and it seems as if there is no end to going upstream. Eventually we can see far enough ahead to see it will level out and we have hope we will soon go downstream once again. At last we reach downstream and as we sit back to rest a while we notice how strong our arms have become. We know now that if we should be faced with another upstream we will be stronger and better prepared to handle it,

This stream also has little whirlpools strung throughout. We will get caught in these from time to time. Here we will be circling around and around seeming to go nowhere. We jab and push with our oars trying to escape but it seems the stream will not release us from the hold of the whirlpool. Eventually at just the right time a wave will come along right as we near the exit and off we go down the stream again.

There can also be times when we are blissfully floating along and an unexpected wave will come and upend our little boat and under we will go and that will be the end of our trip. But that is just the nature of the stream.

As we continue our journey down the stream we will experience all the ups and downs of the passage of this stream.

Inevitably there will be a time when your stream will reach an end. The stream will be reduced to only a small trickle of water that can carry you no further. At this point you will step out of your little boat, turn and look back at this mighty stream that you traveled filled with wonder, chaos, beauty and challenge. It is then you will look down at your little boat and realize your little boat was the love of God all along.

Gena Mayer

1/24/2020

The Shade Tree Writer

A different life

I’m not quite sure why as more years pile up behind me that I become so much more nostalgic, but I am. Seems it happens to us all. Maybe it’s because the future seems oh I don’t know shaky, scary, too uncertain. So anyway, nostalgic I’m going to wax.

Has anyone else ever noticed that once we are grown the life we had as we were being raised just ceases to exist. For example, I was raised watching I Love Lucy, Leave it to Beaver, Father Knows Best even the Brady Bunch. I thought and even had high hopes that when I was grown I would be a stay at home mom as would all my female friends. We would get together, have tea, exchange recipes, go shopping, play cards, attend PTA meetings all the while raising well adjusted children.

I also remember many times being at my grandmothers house and in the mornings the neighbor ladies from her little town of Willow Oklahoma would come gather at her house. She would have the coffee pot going and they would all sit around the table drinking coffee and having a nice visit. I loved being there among all that female energy. It wasn’t a gossip session, although yea maybe there was a tiny bit, but more than that it was a way of sharing their small town life. Sharing their concerns for others in the community. Sharing some laughs and occasional tears. Just being there for each other. They weren’t hurried or stressed about getting to work, they planned their days around the needs of their family. It seemed like a pretty good plan to me.

I believed those things were going to be a part of my grown up life as well, but sadly they weren’t.

I was fortunate enough to stay home with my babies for many years. I cherished being a stay at home mom. I felt it was important to be home with my kids. Financially though it wasn’t always possible. When I was home, I had maybe one other stay at home mom friend. It did get lonely, there was no Ethel to drop in all the time. I needed that female companionship. There were times I needed to commiserate with another mom to help manage the days when being a stay at home mom got to be too much. Then there were other times I just wanted to share the joy of being a stay at home mom.

But most women couldn’t afford to be home with their kids or simply preferred their own careers. So my little ones didn’t have play dates and I didn’t get to enjoy the fun and support of having other stay at home moms around. I felt cheated. This wasn’t how it was suppose to be.

This wasn’t what my growing up years prepared me for. It turned into a different world, a sadder world, a less connected world- in my opinion.

The way we were

I don’t remember the exact date but I do remember the exact day I 40 opened. Our house just happened to be located right along old Route 66. My mother and I were sitting in our living room and she made the comment how much quieter it is now that interstate 40 opened up. Not only was our house right in front of old 66 but we were also at the top of a hill. Semi trucks driving up the hill always shifted right in front of our house. But that day there wasn’t much shifting happening. I also didn’t realize at that time what shifting this I-40 was about to do to my little town.

I came of age in this bustling little town during the seventies. Oh it was the greatest time to be alive. The guys had hot muscle cars or pickup trucks all jacked up in back. Before I or any of my friends were old enough to drive we would sit out on my front porch and watch all those vehicles drag and of course we’d try to get the guys attention. Then the second that drivers license was issued we were out on the town drag as well. We girls knew all the hot guys from the surrounding small communities because they would come to our town to drag too. But along with the guys there were a couple of gals from a neighboring community that us hometown girls didn’t think needed to be in our territory so we politely escorted them out of town, every time! There was so much life going on Saturday night down town Sayre. We had a pool hall, a movie theater, a bowling alley, at least 3 drive ins which were encompassed in the drag. There were Saturday night dances at the legion hall. The full service gas station was open. We girls would stop in Popes DX to use their restroom. Rodney never cared because he was stuck at work and he was always glad to see us come in.

During the day our town had so many businesses to shop at. We had anything you could possibly want. Jewelry stores, clothing stores, at least 3 appliance stores. A malt shop in the drug store that gift wrapped for free. A five and dime as well as an elegant women’s clothing store. Christmas time was so very special down town. The city would string decorations across Main Street and we all loved seeing the Santa Clause in front of Lawrence’s department store automatically go up and down his little chimney. Every Saturday afternoon during the holiday time so many people would gather downtown to be there for the big drawing. They put all the tickets in a big drum up on a trailer for all to see. I’d watch as the tickets spun around as the man turned the big drum. He’d stop and call a lucky number then shut it and turn it some more. It was an enjoyable community event where people got to visit one another and a few got to leave with prizes. I cherished being able to walk to town on Saturdays with my allowance and buy some 45’s or if I’d saved enough a whole album. I might pick up a MAD or Seventeen magazine as well. Being a growing girl, some Saturdays my mother would take me down town to C.R. Anthony’s. We would fuss over what she thought looked good on me compared to what I thought looked good. When we finally agreed on a few things on layaway it would go. No instant gratification for this gal! But it had its perks of generating anticipation for the day it was paid in full and they were mine to wear. The town had lots of motels and small cafes to choose from. There were even apartments rented out above some down town businesses. The oilfield was booming at the time and kept things going for a while.

But in the mid 80’s the oilfield started dying out. With the loss of that then the loss of the route 66 traffic was becoming more evident. Businesses were struggling to keep their doors open. They couldn’t sell out to anyone so one by one they’d close. A few smart businesses located near the I-40 exits and they are still doing well but as far as downtown it’s now such a sad sight to see. So many vacant run down buildings where so much commerce once took place. There’s not a soul downtown at night because there’s absolutely no reason to be. Kids are no longer making drags, honking, waving each other down for friendships or more. Actually there’s hardly any cars out at all on a Friday or Saturday night. If they are it’s just for a trip to pick up something then back home again.

Now if you’re a traveler just passing through you might not think as much of it, just yet again another small town that lost out.
But there are those of us that did live here when this little town was alive! When there were lots of employment opportunities, plenty of people, fun and excitement to be had every Saturday night! And we are still here. And we so very much long for the way we were.

Write away


Here I went and paid good money, got myself a blog and now I can’t think of a darn thing to write. Now that I feel pressured to write (from me anyway) (haven’t heard from any fans🤔)it’s just not happening. A fb friend of mine, that’s an excellent poet, said he only writes when the mood strikes. I suppose that’s what I should do.

My problem is I want to be an amazing writer right now. I want to be a Sean of the South. Or be like my favorite author Anne Lamott. I don’t want to put out dull uninteresting stuff. I want it to be amazing, awe inspiring or hilarious. I realize it may take time to get that good but I don’t like that. I want people to already be driving by saying, “hey that’s where that famous author lives.” And of course the town name a street after me. Oh and a strong apology from my high school English/writing teacher for that B.

It is getting frustrating that nothing is manifesting the way I want it to. It’s like my writing skills slipped out the back door and hit the road. There’s no conjuring up the stories at will I’ve got to sit around and wait for them to avail themselves to me.

I have started three different stories but they are just oh so bad and go nowhere. Maybe I need to try some shrooms or some such natural enhancer to clear the blockage.
Speaking of that, a little side story. Back when I was in high school and first year college I’d get horrendous tension headaches. I mean lose sight in one eye tension. Good ole Dr. Thornbrough hooked me up with some percodan. The world became such a rosey place. Have you ever wondered why we can’t just have a natural brain chemistry like that. Shoot there’d be no wars everyone one would get along, life would be just dandy. Darn shame we can’t all be naturally percodan brained like. Now I’m not advocating drug use here people just trying to paint a picture. Anyway….

I don’t know maybe I’m just trying too hard or maybe I’m just not a writer after all. Maybe I’m just……ordinary.