Team Teddy Tuesday

Team Teddy

Published by Mollie Lyon · 23 mins ·

Tuesdays have been busy for me, lately. I need to revamp how I do Team Teddy Tuesdays. Like write before Tuesday and push publish on Tuesday. wink emoticon I'm also in transition between jobs. This process drains me more emotionally than I anticipated. I start the new job next Tuesday, so I will work on a post  before Tuesday and push publish next Tuesday. In the mean time, I again remind you to watch the children. Watch our words. And look for clues as a new school year begins for signs of abuse, physical, emotional or mental. New teachers, new caregivers, new kids on the bus can all be sources of turmoil for our children. Pray and watch.
And on a personal note for me as an author, a poem I wrote will be published in The Way It Was coming out this evening and always the first Wednesday of the month at over eighty local businesses in the Shenango Valley.

Wordless Wednesday

Sunset heating things up at Waterfire, Sharon, PA August 22, 2015

Team Teddy Tuesday

Three incidents lately remind me that child abuse aftermaths last a life time. One lady tells me of how her step father beat her, but not her siblings. He singled her out. She sighs, "It kept him off my mother." On the outside, she is coiffed, beautiful- she's beautiful inside as well, lives in luxury now. But fifty years later, even though she was homecoming queen and popular, the emotional scars remind her that somehow she is not worthy. We never knew her pain, then, or even later as an adult with her sparkly eyes and sweet composure. She confided in me only recently.
A comment on my sister's post about missing our dad's hugs from another woman stated her dad never hugged her. I don't know if it were abuse or just some men have problems showing affection. Still, the loss screams in her written word.
A friend today recalls how she was raised in an alcoholic family. The beatings, the screaming, and the abuse sound like too many stories. She affirmed since she met Jesus, she determined it would stop in her generation. Her grandchildren are taught love and acceptance. She doesn't bite the bait her sister throws out to fight anymore. Jesus makes the difference.
These abuses happened long ago. Like my resident, who will be ninety six in October, I wrote about before. The memories don't fade. They haunt in the quiet evening hours, as she sits with her thoughts. I see her head bowed, she's not reading, but she bringing back those hurts, wondering what she did to deserve the emotional neglect. I hug her when I see that hunched, lonely position, if I'm there. A hug brings the smile, but never erases her hurt. I tell her about Jesus. I feel she may slowly be getting it.
When an adult is mean to you, like a clerk in a store, remember she may be hurting, too. Show that little extra kindness. Offer a prayer. Tell her about how Jesus loves you and loves her as well. We may not change the world, but one person may be who we need to love.

My Gut Instinct Validated

http://www.everydayhealth.com/columns/my-health-story/nfl-cheerleader-breast-cancer-survivor-fights-pink-washing/?pos=4&xid=nl_EverydayHealthHealthyLiving_20150821
In my initial feeling stated in That Bastard Cancer http://missmolliesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/09/cancer-awareness-or-that-bastard-cancer.html, some ways of raising cancer awareness does nothing for the cause. October is one of those months. As it looms on the horizon, I will probably re-post this in that month.
We need to be aware of how we are manipulated. Relay for Life helps the victims of cancer- all cancer. I have a sneaking suspicion that the medical community does not want a cure because, Cancer makes money. Even when I worked home health, the hospice aspect of our company scoured the diagnosis of new home health admissions for a cancer one so they could be on the case. Why? Hospice is covered totally by Medicare and it makes money for the company. I'm not putting down Hospice, it is a wonderful service that is needed, but some days it felt like morbid obsession for a cancer diagnosis.
I hope I'm screaming in your ear- Show me the money. Show me the results. Don't be manipulated by pink or any color, ribbons or sexual innuendo on Facebook. I will put my money where my words are. And as always pray for a cure.

Wordless Wednesday

Unsettled Summer Evening

Come Again Soon

Come Again Soon

By

Mollie Lyon

I have this feeling I can't explain

A feeling I can put no name.

I think of summers past.

I see beauty that cannot last.

Playing and free.

My mother took care of me.

Dad, too, for the fun.

He loved the sun.

The beach, the yard, the lake

A picnic with Kentucky fried and cake.

Summer, summer, summer

Why do you have to end?

Visions of the shore

I want more.

Homesick

Sad

 Names I could use.

The stories from this muse.

 Of summer change.

Of summer growth.

Mom loved September.

I do now, too,

But not as kid.

School,

Putting on shoes.

Buying sweaters and jeans

The year I entered my teens.

Life changes fast.

Seasons mark the time

A childhood doesn't last.

And I repose on children mine

And their childhood is over, too.

Maybe the name should be Blue.

But I carry on

For summertime will soon come around.

The next year better

I plan for fun.

Wordless Wednesday

Blue Heron on the upper lake at Buhl Farm Park