Too Lazy To Push a Turd

       

I feel her fingers scratch the side of my head as she rolls my hair in pink sponge rollers for church the next day.  My grandmother’s hands are wrinkled, rough, and scarred. As she is rolling my hair I ask her to tell me a story about when she was a little girl. I love to hear of her adventures and looking back now I realize how much I learned about life through these tales. She breathes in deep and I hear the air move through her lungs, left scarred by TB.  She was diagnosed in her twenties and had to be quarantined, the only appropriate treatment for the illness at this time.  She once told me of the devastation and sadness she felt when they took her from her babies and took her to the infirmary with all the other TB patients.  She told me of the many friends she made with the other women in quarantine and of the deep sense of loss and fear when one succumbed to the complications of the disease.  Through the sadness of her account I always looked forward to the part of the story when she was taken in the exam room and the doctor told her she would survive, but only because her heart was on the wrong side of her body.  He told her that she had been born that way, and although rare, it did occur.  He went on to explain that if she had been born as everyone else the damage caused by the TB would have taken her life.  Every time she got through telling me the story she would pause and then tell me, “But what he didn’t know is that I wasn’t just born that way.  I prayed to God to let me live and raise my babies…and he moved my heart that night.  Thank you Jesus!” 
 

She continues to roll my hair and starts the story I requested.  “When I was a little girl like you my hair was white as snow.  We were really poor like the colored folks.  My best friend was a little colored girl.  We walked with each other every day to the plantation where we would pick cotton.” She began. “Do you know what they used to call me?” She ask with slight laughter in her voice as she put her face beside mine so I could look at her.  “Cotton Patch!” She exclaimed as she let out a half laugh/half cough with a smile that went all the way to her beautiful eyes.  “Life was hard and we all had to do our part to help Moma and Daddy put food on the table.  I didn’t get to be a little girl like you do.  One day when we was pickin’ cotton the man who owned that whole plantation,” she started with a hint of awe in her voice, “walked up to Moma and ask if I could eat lunch with them.  His wife couldn’t have no babies and she wanted them real bad.  Moma said yes of course, and off I went.  Their house was the fanciest thing I could ever imagine.  I sat at a big ole table that I cant imagine why just two people would need.  I guess they had hoped to fill it with babies…” she trailed off momentarily.  She paused rolling my hair as well  and I feel her come back into this moment as she begins to roll again and starts back with her story, “Anyway.  We had fried chicken, taters, green beans, and so many other things.  At first I was really nervous and I guess they could tell ‘cause she asked me if I wanted a coke!  I wanted one! Real bad. I had heard they were so good, but we could never afford any.  She went to the kitchen and came back with it. She sat it in front of me.  It was in a pretty glass bottle that was frosted cold out of their ice box.  I remember how it fizzed and burned my throat when I took that first drink.” She pauses again as she briefly gets lost in the moment she is recalling.

 

“We went back to the fields and I could tell Moma was nervous when we walked back home that evening.  I heard her and Daddy talkin that night about me.  I couldn’t hear what they were sayin, but I could here them say ‘Jettie’ now and then.  Moma cried some.”  She said with sadness in her voice.  She cleared her throat and carried on. 

“The next mornin’ when me and my friend was walking to the field he came to me again and said, ‘Jettie you want to eat breakfast with us today?’  I nodded my head and looked back to see if Moma and Daddy would let me.  Daddy shook his head yes and off I went to the big house again.  When we go there she had a huge breakfast fixed.  Everything you could imagine. It smelled like heaven in there.  She had so many beautiful things too.  I wanted to touch them all, but I knew better.  I sat down at the table and she asked me what I wanted to eat.  I looked up and saw a box of corn flakes on the kitchen counter.  I had always wanted to try corn flakes, so I pointed to them.  She looked back at the counter and laughed, ‘You want cereal? That is all?’  I shook my head and she filled up a huge bowl with ice cold milk poured all over the top of it!” I could here the child in her voice as she recalled this magical experience.  “I ate that cereal so fast! I guess I thought it would just go away if I didn’t gulp it down so fast!” she said excitedly.  I felt a little jump from between her knees as she threw her hands up.  “I went back out to the fields almost too full to pick cotton!” she laughed.  Then the serious returned to her voice.  As she finished telling me the story in which I was completely fascinated by.

“Again that night I could tell Moma was sad and when I looked up she would be starin at me and smilin’  When we went to bed I listened real hard and I heard what her and Daddy was talkin about.  Turns out that man and his wife wanted Moma and Daddy to give me to them.  Daddy was tellin moma that they could give me a life that neither of them could even dream of.  Moma was cryin hard and told daddy that they couldn’t give her the love that they had for me.  She told him that we were a family and we worked hard.  We didn’t have nothin fancy, but we had God and just what we needed.  Just what God thought we needed.” She said matter-of-factly.  “I got scared cause I didn’t want to leave Moma and Daddy and my family.  I liked drinkin that coke and eatin them fancy corn flakes, but not more than my family.” She said with a hint of sadness in her voice for the people I was sure she missed on this very night.

“Your grandma aint afraid of work and you never be either.  Your great-grandparents worked hard their whole life to give me better.  I did that for your moma and they work hard to give to you so you can do better.  God tells us in the bible that you aint supposed to be lazy. Some people so lazy they caint even push a turd!” She says as she laughs at her own funny saying.  “Work is a blessin and it can be taken from ya like that!”  She snapped her scarred worn hand.  You can lose your job or you can get sick like your moma.  Then you will know the blessin that so many people complain about." she asserts.  "Them people stopped havin me over to eat.  I guess cause Moma and Daddy said they couldn’t have me.  But that was ok with me…” she finished in a satisfied tone.  I feel her snap in the last roller and I am now ready to go to toss and turn all night as those things pull my hair and poke me in the head!  But it will still be some of the most restful sleep I will ever get.

It is graduation night and I am so nervous.  I have completed nursing school despite the odds against me.  I show up to my first day in the ICU and I hit the ground running absorbing all around me.  I have no time to eat or even take a bathroom break.  I return from maternity leave to my job as a Case Manager.  It is so different from the nursing I know.  But I work day in and day out to learn every aspect of it.  I take online CEUs and find better ways to do things.  I find myself behind a computer screen as I take on the new challenge of Informatics.  I know nothing about the software, but I click here and I click there.  I ask questions.  I ask for more assignments until I make sure that I know the computer system inside out and upside down.  I want to be better.  I need to be better and do an excellent job.  Through the exhaustion that work can sometimes bring I close my eyes and I see them.  I see my grandmas wrinkled, worn, scarred hand clasped in prayer.  I know who I am. I am her granddaughter.  I am not now nor have I ever been scared of work.  I am thankful for the privilege to have a job and the health to complete the tasks entrusted to me. 

My grandma would be beyond proud and beside herself to know that her granddaugher, Jodie Tucker Howell, is a Registered Nurse with a Bachelor’s Degree in my field. She always used to tell me how smart I was.  “You was smart when you came out of your moma.” She would say to me.  “I told Martha you are going to be something better than any of us ever imagined!”  Man that always made me feel so special, and it gave me part of the drive that I hold today to be who I am in all aspects of my life, but especially the professional part of it. 

My friend Amanda Bradley shared this today and I loved it! It is part of what inspired this blog posting…

"Hold yourself responsible for a higher standard than anybody expects of you. Never excuse yourself." -Henry Ward Beecher

And the good Lord put it this way (and many more ways in numerous scriptures)…

“For even when we were with you, we would give you this command: If anyone is not willing to work, let him not eat.”  -2 Thessalonians 3:10 ESV

A Realistic Love Affair

The dramatic music finds its climax as the two main characters embrace in a passionate kiss.  The heroin pulls away and very eloquently expresses his undying love for the beautiful woman he holds in his arms.  As the rain pours down around their faces you can’t tell which are raindrops and which are tears!  I feel a lump in my throat and my eyes start to sting.  I peel my teary eyes away from the TV and look at my soul mate.  He is sitting in his recliner studying his iPhone while playing words with friends with a dip in his mouth. I guess he feels me looking at him because he looks up and immediately registers that I am crying.  He look at the TV, rolls his eyes, lets out a sigh and says, “We should watch something realistic…like a superhero movie” and laughs at his hilarious joke. I shake my head, motion at the TV, and remind him how much he really does suck at romance.  It annoys me that he cannot remember to say sweet things, write sweet notes, hand pick some flowers, pine away after me all day while he pours his heart into deep poetry written in calligraphy. I mean am I asking too much?

I’m getting ready for bed.  I hear James click the front door locked and turn out all the lights.  I climb into bed and feel the warmth from my heated mattress pad.  Hmmm… I don’t remember turning that on. The thought is fleeting.  I notice the glow from the heater in the bathroom and I really don’t even give thought to it already being on either.  James turns the lights out in the bathroom. “Sorry honey,” I say over the book I am reading, “forgot to turn those lights off”.  He replies, “No problem” and smiles sweetly when I jokingly point out that I never remember to turn them off.  I wake up in the morning to his voice, “Honey are you up?  It’s time to get up.”  He now wakes me up in the mornings since I am not a morning person and was constantly running late.  I feel a kiss on my forehead.  As I am getting ready to get in the shower I hear him taking the dogs outside and I am so thankful.  I tremble at the thought of the cold morning air.  As I shower I become aware of all the things James does for me out of love.  So many little things…that I just take them for granted.  But they are wonderful things that I rely on and should appreciate more.  All of these little things he does for me are wonderful, but there is that really big thing I tend to forget…that thing that they really don’t write romance novels about.  The “constant”  amongst the chaos of what it mean to be Jodie. As you are all aware I struggle with anxiety, and I can tell you that God gave my husband a unique ability to calm me…like no other can.

I knock on the door of my grandmother’s back bedroom door, it opens slowly, and I know whatever is behind it is not good.  As the door partially opens I see him.  My heart drops and my body tenses in overwhelming fear.  It is my abuser.  I can see his bare chest, as he stands before me in only his jeans. His greasy hair slicked back on his head.  I feel sick and I want to run but I can’t. I’m frozen.  Just as I am contemplating my escape the door swings completely open.  There is someone behind him.  I see her.  It is Hannah! I can’t breathe.  Dread rushed over my entire body and I feel like I may vomit.  I open my mouth to scream but only a whisper comes out.  I am trembling with fear and anger.  She is crying.  Oh God. No! No!  No! Please God no!  Please, not my baby.!  I beg God not even knowing what I am begging for.  To take this away? To undo this circumstance? To be able to make my feet move, like my brain is telling them, in order to grab my baby and run.  My mind is racing and I feel tears as I try to scream again. I still haven’t take a breath.  I’m suffocating. 

 I sit straight up in the pitch black dark awakened by my own screams.  My heart is beating out of my chest, I’m sweating,  and I feel hot tears running down my face.  I’m so confused and scared. I have to get Hannah!  Where am I?  Oh God, where is Hannah?  I hear a voice, “Baby.  Baby.  Are you ok?”  It’s James.  It’s ok. You are home.  You are safe.  Hannah!  Is she ok?  “Oh God James.   Nightmare,” I say and he knows exactly what I mean.  I put my face in the crook of his neck and sob for a minute.  “He had her.  Oh God he had her.  He had Hannah. It was the worst nightmare I have ever had.” my cries muffled by his shoulder.  He replies in a soothing voice, “It was a dream baby.  A bad dream. Hannah is fine. She is sleeping in her room.  You want me to get her?”  He pauses.  I nod my head yes.  I hear his footsteps return as he places her little warm body beside me.  She mumbles and I whisper, “Hey baby girl, wanna sleep with moma?” as the tears start to fall down my cheeks relieved as I see the silhouette of her round cheeks in the darkness of our bedroom.  “Yea.” She mumbles back in her sleep/wake state.  James lays back down beside us.  I feel her breath on my check and I reach across her and place my hand on his chest.  His heartbeat continues to bring me back to this safe reality.  He puts his hand over mine and says, “You feel better?”  I whisper a yes in response and thank him for getting her.  He reminds me that I am safe and how much he loves me.  I drift back off to sleep as my heart continues to slows down even more.  

I am reminded again of the great gift God gave me in this marriage…in this love…from a man who wants nothing more than my happiness and well-being.  The next time I watch a sappy love story with the perfect circumstances and rehearsed lines I remember what love really is.  Love is not a perfect moment that conjures a temporary emotion.  Love is an ongoing set of very imperfect circumstances where two people choose to see past all the ugliness of this world and imperfections within each other in order to offer a safe place to live life without fear or insecurity.  

As we celebrate this day of love I am reminded that not all love stories are wrapped up in a beautiful heart shaped box, but sometimes those are the couples that are in the deepest kind of love.  The unconditional, unbreakable, forever kind of love.

Happy Valentine’s Day…

Psalm 85 (English Standard Version)

  ¹⁰ Steadfast love and faithfulness meet;
    righteousness and peace kiss each other.

One Soul, Two People Forever Love (Part 2)

The days following our first date flew by.  Night after night James showed up at my house and we would sit for hours talking about anything and everything.  I felt like I couldn’t ever know enough about him and he was so curious about me.  No one had ever cared so much about me. He wanted to know what I liked and what I didn’t like and why.  He wanted to know my fears and my dreams.  I wanted to tell him everything.  I didn’t want to hold anything back.  I wanted him to know my best and my worst.  There was something about him and the way he looked at me that made me know he would never judge me. 

My legs dangle below me as we sit on the back of his black Nissan truck.  I could only see his silhouette in the dark night, but I could feel his warmth as he sat beside me.  Our conversation had spanned everything from our favorite food to our hopes and dreams for our futures, ones that we both knew had forever changed since our paths had crossed.  We both knew at this moment that no matter what happened from this point forward we would always be a part of each other’s lives.  As I listened to him speak I looked up to the beautiful sky.  Following my lead he looked up too.  A single star fell from the crowd that surrounded it.  It was like it knew it didn’t belong in the sky with the rest of them.  Almost instantly, as if in response to the first stars decision to leap, a second star fell right behind it.  “I’ve heard that if you see a shooting start with someone you will be in each other’s lives forever”, I say while I stare into the sky.  I look at him and see an outline of a smile on his face.  “I sure hope so…” he almost whispers. 

It had been another wonderful night out with friends.  We returned home from dinner and watched movies, but I had to return home so I could get up from school in the morning.  “Well guys I guess I better get out of here.”  I look over and James is already standing to walk me out.  He had seemed nervous all night but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.  I had momentarily feared a couple of times that he was growing tired of me and that tonight would be the night he broke up with me.  I was too scared to admit how much I already cared for him and could only pray to God to keep him in my life.  

He followed me outside and we stood there for what seemed like a long time with this unfamiliar  tension surrounding us.  I was preparing myself for his reasons that he no longer wanted to see me.  I was prepared to stand here and take whatever he had to tell me determined to wait until I was in my car to fall apart.  After all, I knew this was all too good to be true.  I knew it wouldn’t last forever.  Forever! What are you talking about?  You don’t want forever.  You are 17.  You have plans.  You are getting away from here.  You are going away to college to become a successful, very rich business woman.  You are leaving and not looking back.  So what if he breaks this off.? I mean whatever this is.    “So I will call you tomorrow night after you get home from work”, his question snaps me out of my thoughts.  I realize he wants to see me again.  “Sure.”  I responded before he could fully finish his sentence.  “Are you sure you don’t need to study.  I don’t want to distract you from your schoolwork.” He continues; as if trying to convince himself it is really ok.  “You know I’m a senior and I pretty much know everything they are teaching at this point”, I smirk.  “Yea you are pretty smart, huh?  I always had to work hard at school.  Should have worked harder...I guess.” He fidgets while looking off behind me.  I nod not sure what to say.  I want to make him feel better, but I don’t know what to ask to find out what is bothering him.  Suddenly he exhales really hard, laughs to himself, kicks the gravel with his foot, and stammers out, “Can I…uhm…kiss you?  Would that be…okay?”  My heart skips a beat, my stomach flips, and my palms are instantly sweaty.  “Yes.  I would like that”, I say with a nervous smile.  He leans in very gently and I feel his soft lips on mine.  I can feel a slight tremble in them and I am oddly comforted that he is as nervous as I am.  The kiss was perfect, and I wanted to stay right here…this close to him forever.  I wanted to feel this safe and this loved for the rest of my life.

One Soul, Two People, Forever Love (Part 1)

I pulled up the familiar drive in my blue Geo metero, the car my grandma left me when she passed away a couple of years earlier.  This drive was one I had taken many times before as I visited her.  Since her death making this drive makes me very sad. I kept her handkerchief in the glove box so that she was always with me.  I miss her so much that  it physically hurt some days.  But tonight, on this familiar drive, I was too nervous to be sad.  Tonight I was going to meet a guy.  My aunt and uncle had bought my grandmother’s house and I was meeting him at the house next door where some friends of ours lived. I cannot believe you agreed to do this! This guy is old and this is just desperate.  Well desperate is just what you are Jodie.  Need I remind you that you are 17 and have never. Had. A. Boyfriend! So, meet the old guy and maybe you will like him.  Ya’ll can do old people stuff together.  As I mentally tormented myself I remembered the feeling I experienced when I briefly met him the week before, but I pushed the thought aside.  I couldn’t explain the feeling, from just being in the same room as him, and I was weird enough without conjuring up any more reasons to confirm myself any more of a weirdo that I already was. 

I step out of the car into the dusky evening, and feel the warm air still holding on from the hot Arkansas summer day.  It was early September, September 4th to be exact.  The night my life would change forever.  The night God gave me the most precious gift I would ever receive.  A chance for a happy, peaceful, unimaginable love filled life.  The night he gave me James.

I sat on the church pew in between my mom and her best friend waiting for Sunday services to start.  My mom had rededicated her life to God and we had started attending the church my grandmother raised me in.  My mom leaned forward and spoke to a man sitting in front of us.  My mom spoke to everyone, so this was not unusual to me.  She leaned back and smiled at me.  Oblivious to her thoughts I smiled right back and went back to reading a leaflet that I had stuck in my bible cover.  Church started and the music service was underway.  We sang our hymns, took up the offering, and they called for special songs.  The guy my mom had talked to stood up.  Oh this dude is going to sing.  Hmmm.  Hope he is good.  The music starts and he begins his special.  He has a beautiful voice and I see something in his eyes that just seems like...”home”.   I know that is a weird word to describe it, but I just felt calm, like I could sit her in this place for a very long time.  I fade away into his voice and eyes like some kind of weirdo.  Suddenly I am yanked from this wonderful unexplainable place into reality as my mom and her best friend simultaneously start jabbing me in the sides and grinning like idiots.  I am annoyed by this.  They think I like him.  I do not like him!  I mean this guy is OLD.  I hope they are not thinking I need to talk to him…like that…like a boyfriend. I quickly make a facial expression that says, “Uhm I don’t think so”, and follow it up with a mental note to myself to SNAP OUT OF IT! Nothing is going to happen here. Nothing.

 I walk into the camper my family is temporarily living in until my parents new doublewide trailer is delivered.  My mom is sitting on one of the twin beds facing me.  She nonchalantly says, “Hey…what did you think of that guy that sang in church last Sunday?”  I reply annoyed, “He could sing.  Thank goodness. I hate those people that can’t sing, but get up there to hear themselves.  Has nothing to do with God and it gives me a headache. That is it. Why?”  I pause and catch a smile on her lips.  “DO NOT CALL HIM MOM! I MEAN IT! THAT IS SO LAME. HE IS OLD!”  I glare at her.  “Oh good lord child.  He is not old.  He is 23.” She says stifling a laugh.  “Mom…how do you know his age?”  I ask already knowing the answer to my question.  “I swear I did not call. He knows John and Crystal and he asked about you. Crystal called Naomi and she called me.  He wants to go out with you.” She pauses and braces for my reaction.  Slight panic sets in.  “I don’t want to meet him. What would I even say?  You know I don’t talk to guys.”  I say with desperation in my voice.  “Honey you need to…talk to guys…ya know?  You are 17 and its time…” she trails off.  “Time for what?   To get married for God’s sake! Mom you know I’m leaving here.  I’m going away to college.  I just don’t know...”  I say sounding less sure.  I wanted to go on a date, but it had just never happened.  Between being overweight and shy I guess it just never happened… I keep asking myself the same question, What will I even say to him?  Everything I ever thought about saying to any guy just sounded stupid when I said it in my head.  After much persuasion on my mom’s part the date was set.  

I walk up to the porch and there he sits.  He is talking with John and I can see him smile as he laughs at something Jon says.  I catch myself smiling at his smile, like a buffoon.  I quickly stop smiling just before he looks up.   Our eyes meet.  I take a deep breath against the resistance of the nervousness in my chest and squeak out a shaky “Hi…”  I notice he is quiet too.  I like this about him instantly.  John and Crystal start talking and we make plans to go to dinner at Danny’s 24 Hour Restaurant.  I don’t feel uneasy sitting close to him on the ride to the restaurant, which is weird for me.  I am always uneasy…around…well… everyone. Conversation is relaxed and I catch myself smiling at him over and over again for no reason.  Get a grip Jodie. He is going to think you are mentally handicapped.  As we head back home I just keep thinking I have to see him again.  I want to know him. I want to know everything about him.