SoCS- 9-24-22-Home- Our Personal Journey

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “home.” Use it as a noun, a verb, an adjective, or an adverb. Enjoy!

“You can’t go home again.”
No truer words have ever been spoken.
Of course, gathering as families or connecting with old friends can be a pleasant experience but how often do our hopeful expectations of somehow being transported back to a ‘happy place and time’ come true? I guess that all depends on how specific one’s expectations are.
I know some people would probably say that my initial declaration is a bunch of nonsense. That’s cool. I don’t intend to ‘harsh’ anyone’s experience.
But for me, the sugar-coated memories I have are too precious to experiment with by adding a 2.0 version. I’m well aware of the selective nature of our memories. Heck… I never even put much stock in any ‘eyewitness accounts’.
I also realize that there are varying levels of optimism and pessimism in each of us. Some people dwell only on the pleasant memories and others (sadly) give too much of their time and energy to the unpleasant ones. Either way, there’s no doubt that we have embellished those memories.
So, for me, ‘there’s no going home again’. And that isn’t a sad concept.
Perhaps, we who choose to take the path of blowing off high school reunions or trips to childhood ‘stomping grounds’ have a concept of life as an ever-flowing journey of learning and collecting experiences and are compelled to keep moving forward. Reflection on our ‘roads taken’ is a marvelous affirming experience but there’s no return trip in our itinerary. We prefer keeping our memories like a classic movie- without alterations, modern revisions or remakes.
A case might even be made that people who keep “moving on” value the route they’ve taken the most.

Happy Saturday everyone! I hope you make some new beautiful memories this weekend.
https://lindaghill.com/2022/09/23/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-sept-24-2022/

d’Verse Prosery Monday- Bloody Hope

Here’s how to take part in the Prosery Prompt:

– Write a piece of flash fiction or other prose of up to or exactly 144 words, including the given line.
– Post your Prosery piece on your blog and make certain to link back to this post.
– Place the link to your actual post (not your blog or web site) in the Mister Linky site.
– Don’t forget to check the little box to accept use/privacy policy
– Please visit other blogs and comment on their posts!
Remember: You must use that entire given prompt line for your Prosery piece. You may change punctuation and capitalize words, but you are not allowed to insert words between parts of the sentence.
Prompt line:
“For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May”
–From “May Day” by Sara Teasdale
___________________________________________

Bloody Hope

The bloody battle suddenly paused because of an unusual mid-April blizzard.
A tempest of icy crystals obscured visibility to a few feet as the under clothed soldiers huddled in small groups.
Jimmy’s tour-of-duty was due to end in thirteen days but his gut was warning him otherwise.
He felt compelled to scratch a short letter to his mother with numb fingertips and place it in his pocket.

Dear Mother,
We’ve been in a most bitter fight today.
Victory will be ours as soon as a brutal snowstorm lifts and offers my company its due.
Our resolve is solid and my discharge is imminent yet I wanted to let you know my heart is already home.
I am not afraid and I love you.
For how can I be sure I shall see again the world on the first of May?
Your loving son,
James



144-words

https://dversepoets.com/2022/05/09/prosery-sara-teasdale-and-may/

Friday Fictioneers – 6/18/21

Rochelle has offered us the photo prompt below:

PHOTO PROMPT © Alicia Jamtaas

She’d resided here for four years.
Having made the decision to move, Mama led her young ones deeper into the woods.
A surveyor had walked through their woodlot, two nights before, disturbing the family’s treasured privacy while the sound of machinery had been “closing in” on their reclusive setting for two months. It was time to go.

Mama looked back a final time. The old pumphouse had stood up well in spite of neglect. She felt too old for the abrupt change but reluctantly moved on.

Twelve successful litters, in one safe place, was more than most opossums could claim.

(100 words)

18 June 2021 | Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple









See the source image

Six Sentence Story- Perilous Promises 2

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Return here, link your post Wednesday night through Saturday late…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers

PROMPT WORD:  HOME

It had been an agonizing two weeks and almost four hundred miles with Ernesto praying every night for their nightmare to end; sometimes even if it had to be with a merciful death.

He was haunted by too many things to count but having Butch’s imagined lifeless face nightly pursuing him in his dreams was the worst, even overshadowing their discovery, just yesterday, of the stiffened, rat ravaged, corpse of a newborn baby in a village dumpster.

As he and Abria inched toward America, some small kindnesses were afforded them by other ‘travelers’ even though the children weren’t part of any group, so recognizing the woman who had once dressed his knife wound waving to him from atop of an overloaded cattle truck, offered him an unexpected flicker of comfort.

She signaled him to hurry but Abria had already stopped moving her feet during the last hour so he dragged his sister even faster hoping to catch that blessed ride, when suddenly he let her go, because Abria, who hadn’t spoken a word since her attack ,screeched, “STOP! I want to go HOME!”.

Dust coagulated her tears and thickened the nasal discharge she’d had for days as she collapsed like an ancient woman on her deathbed; that scene of her crumbling before his eyes manufactured anger and anguish in Ernesto to the point of threatening to rupture his heart.

As the truck pulled away without them, Ernesto swept his frail, nearly weightless, sister up in the last daylight while cursing their father to HELL through clenched teeth, then rushed to find a hiding spot far away from the impending next wave of the caravan, which held far more danger than anything unseen they’d encounter in the brush after dark.

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)
It’s Six Sentence Story Thursday Link Up! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (wordpress.com)

Example Rules

Al Sharpton
Al Sharpton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was remembering one of my first triumphs at school. It was an aptitude test on English grammar. In second grade, we were asked to choose the correct form of a word to plug into a sentence. Since we had no formal grammatical training before the test, I was very pleased to “ace” it.
Why did I have those skills at age eight? Simply because proper grammar was spoken in my home.
The English language has rules… not the kind meant to restrict our behavior, but those which apply in order to keep us on “the same page” and in the “same game”.
When I consider the modern distaste for rules, in general, and the emphasis on diversity, I realize many young parents are throwing an obstacle into their children’s education (and success) when they refuse to use proper grammar.
I understand that bilingual households are at a disadvantage automatically. All the more reason, in my opinion, for parents to school themselves in proper English.
Language has little to do with culture, so the clinging to slang and the blocking of the kids’ understanding of the rules of English grammar in the home, make no sense.
Al Sharpton is an intelligent man…Yet, he talks in a “street” dialect that, I assume, is an attempt to be “common” and endearing to the African American community. He “ain’t” helping anyone by confusing folks about English enunciation and grammar. Especially those people who have never lived in an environment where the rules of English were followed. Leading by example would be more helpful and honorable, in my opinion. Breaking other rules may gain a person attention and bravado but the rules of English language, once ignored, are terribly difficult to reclaim.
So, when parents consider helping their children’s efforts for a good education, the most important edge they can offer is the example of good grammar spoken at home.

Family Gathering

Deb and meMy mother organized a family gathering that we celebrated on June 1st. A collection of cousins, and their kids, some I had never met, came. Afterward, there was an unexpected let down. So many people and so little time to interact beyond small talk.

For the next few days , following the event, I’ve had a “woulda/shoulda/coulda” feeling. You see, if a person is presenting a party, they are busy with meeting the needs of guests instead of enjoying the people. Certainly, watching our children, and grandchildren, making brand new family friends was a joy. I was overwhelmed though, with people whom I was unable to fully appreciate and subjects I was unable (because of limited time) to talk about. My cousin, Debbie (pictured with me above), made a 5 hour trip and spent 5 hours returning home after our mingle.

For those an hour or less away, I had little time and I have a heavy heart about that fact. Although we live relatively close, we do not gather for years on end. A smaller, more intimate gathering would do us but to “make time” for those many smaller gatherings doesn’t seem doable. Work, and family duties are many and it’s a burden to ask too often. My sister suggested a catered event in the future which would lighten the load upon the party organizers to afford more real “visiting”.  I believe, with a family so large, there will be the inevitable regrets, even still. Some folks are going to be “left out” whenever there are so many. Having the duty (a wonderfully fun one) of photographing the event, also sadly, puts the “photographer” outside of the mingle. Next time, I believe buying disposable cameras for each family, might be a better way to get a more varied and complete “picture”.

I would love to hear suggestions about how to make a large party work without the extravagance of a wedding reception.

It was a fun day and, those who could not come, were missed.

Ha! If you had come, I probably would have ignored you guys too!  At least, the no-shows kept my regrets fewer. 😉

Cultural Dissolve

Homecoming "He's everything I hoped for a...
Homecoming  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No political correctness
No political correctness (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

There’s a dissolve going on in our culture. Very few actions, that bear a burden of public shame, still exist. That fact, is clearly an alarming example of the erosion of our cultural foundation.

Consider what having a baby out-of-wedlock or being in tremendous debt used to mean. Our culture policed itself by frowning upon such things in years past. Now, those things have no stigma and, therefore, have become culturally acceptable.

The feminists were so zealous in their quest for workplace equality, that they ended up redefining the art of being a “lady” and the act of being a “gentleman”, which I maintain are still worthy titles. Strange how being thoughtful and polite are now viewed as weaknesses? A bad sign, me thinks.

The equal rights defenders have made the fight for justice such a racial endeavor, that it divides us, and distracts us, from our American oneness.

Fairness has replaced, justifiable, in every argument and there IS a difference. Things that seem “fair” quite often don’t justify the burden placed upon others to create such a utopia. Might I add, Utopian ideals belong in the land of unicorns where, I understand, there is no unemployment, debt or greed.

The steps to citizenship have turned into an elevator, with buttons labeled in 7 languages, rather than a goal worthy of being hard-earned.

We accept that all politicians lie, and justice is for sale, without “blinking an eye” while we squabble about semantics (political correctness) to the point of ignoring our common cultural erosion. There is not one problem, other than foreign terrorism, that cannot be explained by and blamed, partly, on our ailing culture.

We don’t recognize that by creating new laws, we also are defining new categories of criminals for an already over-burdened justice system and refuse to realize that the overburdened system, is the reason the current laws aren’t already enforced.

Our media takes advantage of our busy distractions and choreograph our outrage by carefully choosing or boycotting information according to their own tastes and addiction to sensationalism.

Parenting used to be a cultural obligation to our children. Parents who did not take their roles seriously were treated as deadbeats.  Look around, parenting has become a choice according to personal comforts, decided after kids are born. There is no backlash, no stigma, any more.

Look at our current culture and ask, “Is there no shame?”

Seems to me, that pretty much says it all, doesn’t it?