Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Afraid of the Dark

We feel what we Believe.

A lot of kids are afraid of the dark but they usually grow out. However, my mom never really did. Today she still sleeps with a night light or a lamp glowing. Sorry Mom! :)  Growing up, I, too was afraid of the dark.  Fortunately I could place the blame on my mom for leaving the kitchen light or lamp on all night.

I got my own room one summer for awhile when we moved to the old schoolhouse. There was a "backroom" attached to the back of the schoolhouse.  It had been used as the lunchroom when the school was first built. I was happy to have a room of my own.

There are no "street lights" in a holler.  Only outside porch lights or a "pole light" supplied by the electric company provides a little light at night in a pitch black holler.  There was a small window in my "new" bedroom.  At night I would open the curtains for a little light to shine in.  I felt less afraid that way.

One night I couldn't sleep and lay restless in my bed staring up at the window.  After moments of staring, the curtains began to close in on their own -- much to my surprise.  I quickly closed my eyes and opened them. Unlike before, the curtains remained opened as they had been.  As I continued to gaze, they appeared to be closing again.  This went on for a little while even with me inspecting the curtains.  A few times the curtains seemed nearly closed all together.  Each time I would get scared and hide under the covers or close my eyes. When I opened them, they would seem fine again. It took me awhile before I realized that my eyes were deceiving me. The curtains weren't closing at all but it was my perception in the dark that made them appear that way.  If we stare at something for so long and become so focused, we lose sight of the things around us.

I have been living my life the same way as staring at those curtains.  I become so focused, worried, and lose sight of the truth of who I am. I lose confidence in me.  I tend to believe the lies and deceit that has been built up from my past.

Those negative feelings of shame, worthlessness, imperfection, alone, doubts, worry, the list could go on and on, are just lies about who we are.  These lies are so convincing that many times they are the only truth we know.  Sadly, they keep us in bondage.  By believing or focusing are these negative feelings, we can never really live a peaceful life.

We focus on the lies of deception because it's easier that way.  We think " Its always been that way."  We know what to expect, how to react, and fear trust or change. Sometimes we don't know how to even begin to change.

Believing and accepting ourselves can be hard. We have been brainwashed for so long that we now have to "re-program" our thinking.  This may mean re-experiencing the pain, trauma, and negative emotions that told us the lie about ourselves to begin with.  We re-experience the memories so that we can let go of the lies about ourselves. Re-experiencing trauma or painful emotions can be traumatic and should be done with a trusted source (counselor, sponsor, pastor, therapist, and/or and friend, etc.)

 
Letting go of all that you thought "was the truth" can be a new scary experience as well. Who will I become? Will God "really" be there fore Me? Reprogramming and letting go of hurts takes time.  It is a slow process but awareness is the key. 

With help, I am hoping to stop staring at those dark curtains (lies) and believe in my abilities.  May you find the truth in yourself and allow God to bring you the peace you deserve.

Fear is not of God

Friday, October 21, 2011

I Found Me just got a Fancy Upgrade!!!

Howdy Friends!!!

It's the two-year anniversary of my book, I Found Me Appalachian Stories of a Lost Hillbilly Girl.  I am happy to announce it is now available for iTunes and the Barnes & Nobles Nook.

Download my book for only $9.99 for your iPhone, iPad, or iPod Touch:
Not a fan of those fancy Apple products?? Really? You can also purchase it at the same low price for the Barnes & Nobles Nook:
If you have a Kindle or a different reader, a format for those are also available at Amazon or Lulu:
Of course, I will always be happy to mail you an autograph copy for a low price as well.  Contact me at cgailfugate@gmail.com.

By the way, don't forget to leave a customer response wherever you purchase my book,  I Found Me Appalachian Stories of a Lost Hillbilly Girl. 

I hope you enjoy reading my hillbilly stories of growing up in the hills of Eastern KY. I am looking forward to writing more stories.

Thanks for your Support. May you be Blessed!! :)

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Sweet Williams

While some cities are complaining about the rain and floods, Texas would gladly pay big money to have a few thunderstorms pounce on our state. We have had record breaking temperatures these past couple of months.  The drought has been rough on our plants and wildlife.  The rivers and lakes are drying up, water lines are breaking, and people's yards have holes that go to China. Is there no end?

As the sweat poured down my back the other day, something distracted me from the 110 degree heat.  Amazingly I came across some beauitful purple flowers.  I was surprised to see them thriving in the evening heat.  Many sweet memories of my Grandma Jean flooded my mind. The flowers resembled the Sweet Williams (or Blue Phlox - the official name) that grows in KY.  It was always one of my Grandma's favorites.

Since there wasn't a lot to do in the holler, picking these and other flowers in the summertime was one of my favorite hobbies as a kid.  Many times I would put the flowers in a used jelly jar as a gift to my Mom and Grandma.  Within a day the flowers would wilt and be thrown away.  I didn't mind.   The summer days and those flowers seemed endless back then. I can still smell the sweetness of the flower.  Some grew close to the creek.  I enjoyed getting my feet wet just to pick a few.  Afterwards it was hard to walk in my squeaky flip flops so I would run home in barefeet only to have my mom scold me for getting wet.

I didn't realize the specialness of the flowers until my Grandma Jean passed away in the summer of 1985.  Her passing was one of my first hardest lessons in losing someone so close.  I couldn't imagine being that close to anyone again.  She always had a way of making me feel special and important since I was her first grandchild.  Being an only child, I thrived on any attention that she gave me.

Like a lot of evenings that summer, I sat on the hillside next to her grave which was just down the road from my house. It was easy to escape and share with my Grandma all of life's problems. Even though she was physically gone, I somehow knew her spirit lived on within me. Yet I was still alone. She couldn't converse back to me but I could imagine what she would say.

I looked out at the beautiful evening sunset feeling lost and alone as usual.  As I did, something caught my teary eyes.  There they were on the side of the hill, the beautfiul Sweet Williams flowers, growing strong within the dry leaves.   From that moment I knew it was her way of conversing back to me.  It was a reminder that she would be with me always.  I realized how life goes on even after our loved ones pass.  The flowers grow, the rain comes, the leaves fall.  All of God's creations works in perfect harmony.  Even though we can't see them, our loved ones remain in our spirit and in our memories. Those are the things that keeps them alive. It is our faith and hope that they have never left us.

Perhaps we live life as if the days and flowers will never end. We may ignore the beauty of the flowers and those around us.  We may become ungrateful towards life and those who mean the most to us.  Sometimes we don't appreciate the special moments until there are no more special moments. 

Its no secret that we are powerless over time and death.  Death is just another step that we all have to take one day.  What gives me hope and courage is that I will not be alone. While I would gladly pay money to have another moment with my Grandma Jean and my Daddy, I am grateful for the memories.  I am grateful for the moments and the people in my life today.

Make and enjoy every memory of today.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Response

A Nation that's blinded?

Negativity, sadness, and blamelessness seem to be the mindset of many today. Just look at any TV channel or news headline. Rarely will you find good news promoted. We all seem to be at a loss on how to fix our economy, stop the war on drugs, protect our children and their future, or even stand up for our personal freedom of rights. Amazingly, we humans have conquered a lot of things...just look at our history! Many have come to the conclusion that we alone have the power to create, control, and end life. But even with all this power, we are unable to hold our very own tongue at times, forgive others, or maintain that peace within ourselves when someone has a different opinion, belief, or treats us unfairly.

Admitting that we are powerless and refocusing is usually the first step with anything. The Response was that stepping stone. Seeing this nation in its current turmoil, this wonderful gathering happened, Saturday, August 6th, 2011, which made an impact on my life that shall never be erased. No words, no video, no testimony can explain the Spirit that was felt that day.

This all day free event was held at the Reliant Stadium in Houston which brought together people from all walks of life, from different races, cultures, ages, political views, and denominations, praying compassionately to our Heavenly Father for the state of our nation and our world.

Yet with every positive step there will also be naysayers or those who may not understand. The weeks leading up to the event, the media fueled the fire with a negative outlook mainly because the Texas Governor, Rick Perry, called out for such a day of praying and fasting for the state of our world. Many judged the gathering a discriminating failure before it even got started since only 8,000 people had registered.

As any believer will tell you though, our faith, hope, and determination relies not on mankind and his judgement of the future. We believe in God, a Power bigger than anything on Earth. We believe that any and all things are possible with Him. We believe in peace and forgiveness. His Power was truly felt that day. For many of us, myself included, The Response was a dream, a prayer, and an inspiration that had been in our hearts for many years.

This was not an event to promote a politician, a band or celebrity, a church leader, a ministry, or any denomination. In fact, no announcement was made of the lineup or even the process that was to take place at the event. There were no flyers, no CDs/DVDs, no books, no posters, no shirts – no keepsakes for sale. Only a small agenda listing 4 prayer segments was passed out by an assortment of volunteers.

People simply only knew to follow their heart, visit the stadium if they wished seeking prayer for the nation. Whatever the case, the people followed through...

Over 35,0000 people responded and followed their heart to Reliant Stadium that Saturday. Many fasted. Others volunteered. Some stayed the entire day of prayer while others stayed for a few hours. Some came from Houston and the local areas. Others had traveled as far as Maine, Mississippi, Georgia and New Hampshire. Over 1,300 web telecasts from the nation and around the world were tuned in to pray as well.

Overwhelming joy and compassion filled me as I looked out across the diverse crowd. From Pentecostal to bikers with leather jackets, no one could miss the wide range of ages, races, and cultures crying out to God in one place. By the end of the day, the emotion that had filled the Stadium brought many to tears.

The time had come to leave the Spirit-filled place and return the world. Yet we were taking with us the experience to share with others and prayers for future gatherings. As I returned home that Saturday, I was sadly reminded of the negativity once again. The news media gladly showed a small set of protesters at the event, none of which I had seen on my end. There were no good news or positive reports of what I had just experienced. Was this nation blind or had it all been just a dream to me?

Like any toxic relationship, we subconsciously love negativity. Positive stuff is just too boring. The same goes for our society. We have turned into a self-righteous and self-loathing type of people. We moan over our own or the nation’s problems. If we are not moaning, we escape into a lost world surrounded by the latest and greatest materialistic items. Society has taught us to continue to be ungrateful and fulfill our own personal needs. We have become insensitive and selfish to the world around us.

We unconsciously idolize and lose our own self-worth through celebrities, sport stars and teams, and public figures like our politicians. Sadly, we are teaching our children this same lifestyle. The new generation is becoming a self-centered with a blameless and insensitive attitude towards others and the world. What’s worse is that We, as nation, are blind or ignore it all....

...So what's Your Response? Whatever happened on that Saturday should not be forgotten and misinterpreted. This should only be the beginning for positive changes. May others Seek compassion for our great nation.

May you be Blessed to Respond.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

My Uncle Gobel

Since my dad's passing in 2008, Father's Day naturally has been a little depressing to me. I'd give anything to still be sending him gifts and cards. However, the month of June also reminds me of another blessing that I still have, Daddy's oldest brother, my Uncle Gobel, whose birthday is this month. Named after his father, Gobel Fugate, (brother of George "Do-I" Fugate), he will always remain "Uncle Jr." to me.

Look up the words humble and selflessness in the dictionary and you are liable to see a picture of my Uncle Gobel in there. Even as a child, I was always drawn to Uncle Jr.'s passive and gentle nature. He has a quality that cannot be duplicated or imagined. One of my earliest memories was seeing him working and digging tators in the hot sun on his Uncle George's farm. Even at 6 years old, my sudden instinct was to immediately to go help Uncle Jr. dig tators.

He may seem like a man of little words and experience but this wasn't always the case in his younger years! He use to work and party with his aunt Dora Campbell and her brother General Lee when they moved to Chicago. His younger brothers soon followed in his footsteps to find work there as well. My uncles enjoyed partying as well on their days off but then, kids came along! One to rarely ever say no, it was then that Uncle Jr. became the "designated" babysitter a lot of the times! I can't imagine the hell my cousin Alonzo and I must have put him through. He wouldn't even stomp a bug so there's no way he scolded us.

The good times in Chicago didn't last very long though. His Uncle George ("Do-I") got sick and was unable to take care of the farm. Being the "single" one, Uncle Jr. agreed to move back to KY and help out on the farm on Fugate's Fork. What was to be a "temporary" stay, turned into over 10 years of Uncle Jr. working as a farmhand for his Uncle George, George's sister, Laura, and her husband, Garvey. He never married, never had children, or got another job after that. His life was surrounded by the duties on the farm until Uncle George's passing in 1985. It wasn't until then when he moved off the farm and eventually got his own place.

His life is a real example of selflessness. From him, I have also seen how giving and caring too much (co-dependent) can also be a curse at times. For years, Daddy struggled to protect and warn his older brother from those who wanted to take advantage him. Many times, Daddy would "kidnap" his older brother from the farm so they could go have a good time. :^) Yet Uncle Jr. is a smart man, full of kindness and good heart. He loved his family, the farm, and he loved my daddy very much. He always returned to his home on Fugate's Fork.

Sadly, I rarely get to see my Uncle "Jun" since I don't live close by but we still manage to talk on occasions. He's very independent and active even though he currently lives in the nursing home in Jackson, KY. His generosity is still there as he helps the nurses with the other patients. :^) Yet no matter what, I know his heart belongs to Fugate's Fork and his family. It brings joy and brightens his heart each time he goes back there, just as it does mine. Home is where your Heart is.

Happy Birthday, Uncle Jr.

I love you VERY Much!!!

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Missing the School Bus

When I was growing up, we rarely ever owned a vehicle. So the school bus was my only transportation for getting to school. Catching the bus was one task I dreaded. Unfortunately for me, we lived in an area, around South Fork in Jackson, KY, where the school bus was unable to drive near our house. So naturally I had to walk almost 2 miles out of the holler to catch the bus. The journey out always seemed longer than usual on those bitter cold winter mornings plus the bus took forever to arrive. Since I was the only one at my bus stop, I would usually skip and jump around to fight the cold. I couldn’t wait to climb aboard to the warmth of the bus. It was actually a joy to finally see the bus coming.

Climbing aboard the bus and seeing all the strange eyes glare at you was like being onstage naked in front of hundreds of people. Nervously I would walk down the isle hoping to find an empty seat.

I had been warned early on to avoid the back seats of the bus. The so-called “bad” people sat back there. Many of the “high schoolers” loved to sneak on their smokes plus bully and frighten the younger kids. I had a chance to see the damage they did to the back seats a few times when I had no alternative but to sit back there. My experience was a little terrifying. The seats had been cut and ripped up plus there were a few cigarette burns. I nervously sat in my seat refusing to look or speak to anyone. A couple of bratty boys who were a year or two older than me stuck their pencils through the crack of my seat and jabbed me. I avoided the back at all costs after that incident.

Most mornings it was a struggle to find a seat as many of the kids were reluctant to share theirs. They would quickly scoot to the edge so you would not able to sit down. In addition, the grouchy school bus driver would yell at you for standing up too long. A lot of the times I sat on the edge of a seat forcing some kid smaller than me to scoot over. Thankfully our bus wasn’t as crowded as other school buses that ran on South Fork. Quite a few of the kids on those buses had to stand up throughout the entire ride to school.

For anyone that went to school in Eastern KY, you know the excitement of snow days. It was those happy occasions when school was either canceled or released early because of the bad weather. It was exciting to listen to the radio waiting for Breathitt County schools to be announced. When it was, I cared less about the other nearby counties and snuggled back to bed.

There were a few rare occasions when the school let us leave early if the weather got too bad. Yet it was important to pay attention to the announcements on the school’s intercom as they would announce the bus numbers departing. This called for a little more responsibility for a 3rd grader like me at the time. Being the lonely dreamer lost in my own pretend little world, I happen to miss my bus home the day our school got out early. It was a scary experience that I remember all to well and had always feared.

That morning started off similar like all other school days. Once Daddy woke me, I whined and got ready while he listened to the radio for the weather. Mommy gently snored away unaware that I was up or that it was even morning. She had spent most of the night eating popcorn and watching TV. I knew this very well because my bed was only a couple of feet away from my parents’ bed.

Since we lived in a small 3 room house, our bedroom was also our living room. On school nights, my set bedtime was 8 p.m. plus I wasn’t allowed to turn over while Mommy watched TV. I hated it because all the good TV shows came on after 8 p.m. Many times I slept half way on my side and back, pretending to be asleep, especially on those nights when Taxi came on. As usual, Mommy would catch me with my eyes half way open and make me turn all the way over to face the wall. It was hard to go to sleep with the flickering of the TV screen on the wall.

I dragged along that cold morning while Daddy listened for the school closures. As the closure announcements were made, unfortunately Breathitt County was not on the list. As always, Daddy pushed me off to school as I irritably stomped out the door with my books. The weather was so cold, wet, and just plain yucky. I angrily trudged along the broken muddy path during my hike out to the South Fork highway. I took most of my anger out on the semi-frozen mud puddles. Seeing the ice break like glass underneath my muddy boots made me happy.

Like always, the school bus took forever. I climbed aboard yet I didn’t have to struggle for a seat as many had stayed home. Finally I could have a seat all to myself. As my nose and hands began to thaw, I suddenly saw snow flakes begin to fall outside the school bus window. I had wished school had been canceled like the other counties. It just didn’t seem fair. By the time we reached my school, LBJ, the ground was almost white with the fresh snow.

I had not been in class very long, when all of us 3rd graders were squirming and talking about the snow. Like everyone else, I wondered if we would get to go home early. The teacher, Miss Turner, tried to quiet the class while she impatiently called the role. It seemed like a long process since many of the students were missing.

We had not been at school for very long when the early bus departure announcements soon began. Wow! I was surprised. Every few minutes, bus numbers were called out. Yet I was disheartened when I didn’t hear mine announced. Then I began to wonder and doubt what bus number I even rode. Is it bus 23 or 32?

Soon we lined up for breakfast. Yet I couldn’t think about food at a time like this. I was so distraught and nervous about my bus being called that my stomach started to ache. Two more buses were announced by the time we entered the lunch room.

One of the odd amenities at LBJ was having the lunch room shared with the gym. Unfortunately the intercom in the gym didn’t work very well. The voice over the intercom reminded me of the teacher on Charlie Brown. It was nearly impossible to understand what was being said.

Like always, I stared at the painting above the bleachers on the one side of the wall. The blonde-headed girl in painting provided the written blessing over our food: “God is Great...God is Good..And we Thank Him for our Food. Amen.

The other side of the gym included a small stage with heavy orange curtains representing our school color and our team, the Cowboys. Large lunch tables with connected bench seats ran vertically across the gym floor. Behind the gym we gathered our tray and lined up for breakfast. There wasn’t an option to pick the food you wanted. You simply got whatever the lunch lady gave you and you had to drink your milk as ordered by the teacher. I don’t remember anyone being “lactose” intolerant back then. If so, I would have claim to be as I hated milk!

For those students who didn’t receive “free” lunches, a few brought their cute lunch boxes that had popular 70’s characters like Wonder Woman, Superman, the Hulk, or Charlie’s Angels on them. I used to dream of having my own lunch box. I even asked my mom if I could get one but naturally she said no since my lunches were free.

Before long we were sitting down and picking away at our breakfast. The older kids sat in a far distance from us 3rd graders. As usual, laughter and chattering was everywhere. There were a few announcements made over the intercom yet it was impossible to hear any of them. I was distracted by the noise nearby.

A bus announcement came over the intercom once again but it was so muffled and low that I could barely make out any of the bus numbers called. I began to see kids get up and take their tray away. Some were my age but most of them looked a little older.

Suddenly I saw two or three older girls who looked like they rode my bus, get up and leave. Was it a coincidence or did my bus get called? I began to wonder. Maybe they were just done eating. Should I go? What if it’s not my bus and I get into trouble for leaving? What if it is my bus and I miss it? I tried to ask a couple of kids what bus was called. They didn’t know or even seem to care. I looked around for my teacher, Miss Turner. I could she was busy eating breakfast with the other school teachers and seemed content being away from us students. I wanted to go ask her about the buses called yet my fear kept me frozen to my seat.

A few more buses were called and I saw a lot more students getting up to leave. I recognized quite a few of them as they were my 3rd cousins who lived on South Fork a bit farther up above the road from me. Their bus was one of the overcrowded ones. I suddenly got scared again. If their bus had been called then it was probably my bus that had just left earlier. Oh no! My stomach grumbled with fear and hunger. I felt my eyes begin to water. Yet the voice in my head kept trying to convince me that my bus wasn’t called.

“Nah! It probably wasn’t your bus. I really don’t think they called it yet. Besides, there were a lot more people than that who were on the bus. But then, there were some high schoolers on the bus. Oh no! Nah…I bet the bus hasn’t been called but then…”

My mind debated back and forth even as Miss Turner lined us up to empty our trays. The others around me giggled and chattered happily away. I suppose I would giggle too if I hadn’t missed my bus. My happiness about getting to go home was so distracted by my fear. In my mind, I was almost convinced that I had missed the bus but I had to stay calm. What do they do to a person who misses the bus? Do you get in trouble? How would I get home? Would I have to stay at school all night until the buses ran again?

One of my big fantasies as a child was dreaming of spending the night in the school. I loved the thought of writing on the chalkboard in every classroom, playing with the duplex machine that made those stinky purple lettered copies, exploring art class, and hopes of finding all the cookies in lunchroom. What fun I thought it would be! However, the thought of spending the night at school seemed too real and scary to me at the moment.

Since my parents didn’t have a car or phone, I had no idea who or how to contact someone. In fact, there weren’t many people in my family who did have a phone. Even if they did, I had no idea what their phone number was.

As the morning grew later, our classroom was almost empty. Miss Turner sat quietly as the other students and I sat coloring. By now nearly all the school buses had been called. The only students remaining were those waiting for their parents to pick them up. Finally I got enough nerve up to approach Miss Turner about my bus since there were hardly any students to be embarrassed in front of.

I shyly approached her. “Miss Turner, I don’t know if they ever called my bus or not. I think I am bus 32.”

She paused and looked at me. “Doesn’t bus 32 run up South Fork? Is that where you live?” she asked.

I embarrassingly nodded my head. Then she yelled to the teacher in the next complex about Bus 32. I heard the teacher mumble something as Miss Turner went to approach her.

I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t missed the bus. I denied, denied, denied so I could stay calm. Then the voice came again. “You dummy! Of course you missed your bus. There is no one left in the school but the teachers and you. Boy, are you going to get it!”

I could hear Miss Turner and the other teacher blabbing and complaining. They seemed to talk forever. By the time Miss Turner returned, the other students had left with their parents, leaving me the only student left in the entire complex. Miss Turner didn’t look happy as she probably wanted to go home herself.

“Honey, Bus 32 left this morning. We’ll have to go call your parents, ok.” she stated.

Suddenly my hands nervously shook and my eyes watered up. “See, I told you, Dummy!” the voice said.

She gathered her things and took my hand as we headed to the front office. I tried to tell her that my parents didn’t have a phone or car but she seemed uninterested. Before I knew it, she left me at the main office as she talked with the secretary. The secretary didn’t look too pleased either.

Within minutes both were talking to the principal while I nervously stood outside his office. My nose started running from tearing up. As usual I rarely had tissues in my pockets. My knitted gloves and hat came in handy during these times. Thoughts raced across my mind. How will I ever get home? Would Mommy and Daddy spank me? Will I finally get to see that electric paddle the principal had? South Fork didn’t seem too terrible far from the school. I am sure I could walk back home.

Before long both the secretary and Miss Turner were leaving. They said good bye to the principal and headed their way. More fear struck me. I AM stuck here in this school by myself. I bet the principal does have that electric paddle. Now I’m going to get it!

He called me into his office while he fumbled through some papers. He repeated my name a few times, “Crystal Fugate. Crystal Gail Fugate. That’s your name ain’t it?” he gently smiled. I simply nodded feeling afraid to speak. He then began to make a phone call but apparently didn’t get an answer.

“Are you any kin to Oscar Fugate?” he finally asked. What a relief I thought! Uncle Oscar was Daddy’s baby brother. He had graduated from high school just a year or so earlier.

“Yes. He’s my uncle.” I answered quickly afraid that he might still be thinking of paddling me with that hidden electric paddle.

 
It was quiet for a moment and he fumbled through stuff then he stated, “Yep. I know Oscar. He’s a good ‘ole boy. I had him in a few of my classes.”

I didn’t know what to say. I thought he was a principal not a teacher. In any case, I was glad he knew Uncle Oscar and he liked him. Although he wasn’t a big talker, I loved my Uncle Oscar because he seemed so cool! I thought it was neat that we both were in school at the same time even if he was a lot older than me. Plus Uncle Oscar was well liked by many of the girls that lived near our holler on Big Branch. I was so proud to have such a handsome uncle.

“You live on South Fork? Do you live next to Oscar?” he asked.

“Yes.” I stated.

Soon he was getting his keys and gathering his stuff. I was hoping that he was taking me home but I couldn’t be too sure. I was afraid to ask.

“Come on. I’ll drive you up South Fork.” he motioned for me out the door. Whew! What a relief! I couldn’t wait to get home and so thankful that I didn’t get a paddling.

The drive seemed long and quiet even though my bus stop on South Fork was only 15 or 20 minutes away from the LBJ School. His cigar smoke filled the car and I thought I would choke. Yet I sat quiet and stared out the window. Hopefully the ride would be over soon. I was surprised that it had stopped snowing but who cared. School was out!

I felt a sigh of relief once we turned up on South Fork. My bus stop was the first dirt road on the left.

“I live up here on Big Branch.” I reminded him hoping he wouldn’t forget to stop.

“Ole Big Branch.” He pondered. “You got a long walk ahead of you.”

He stopped to let me out. As he did, he pulled out a couple of Dum Dum suckers out of his pocket.

“Here you go. You be careful now and don’t miss the bus again.” he smiled as I got out of the car.

Afterwards I thought it was so cool that I got a ride from the principal. He actually knew me and my Uncle Oscar. I felt so privileged. As I skipped up the holler I felt so thankful to be going home. I was sure my parents would be happy to see me as well. I didn’t fear any paddling for the principal brought me home! I was special indeed.

Not long before I made it home, I pulled out the sucker that he had given me. What a treat! I skipped along with the sucker in my mouth. Oh happy day! I was out of school, had a sucker, and could play all day at home.

Daddy was sitting on the front porch looking down the holler when I arrived. He had been listening to the radio and heard school had been out hours ago. I came running up the pathway to the house. As I reached the porch, I could see he had a worried look on his face. My happiness soon turned to fear.

“What’s that in your mouth?” he asked which I thought was a dumb question. Obviously he could see it was a sucker.

“What’d I tell you about walking and eating suckers at the same time?” he questioned angrily.

I was shocked. Daddy rarely got angry at me but he seemed more angry about the sucker than about me being late. Soon I remembered his one rule about not walking with suckers in my mouth. Like me, he had fears too. He was always afraid that I would fall and choke to death. I regretted having eaten the sucker on the way home. I got a swaddling for that one and that incident stayed in my mind for years.

Of course I got a lecture from him and my mom about “paying attention” or something like that. Who knows? I don’t remember and wasn’t paying attention! I was just happy that I didn’t have to spend the night at school!

Monday, May 16, 2011

One more day...

If I had just one more day to share with you, I'd give up almost anything to be by your side.
Just one more hour to hold your hand,
One more minute to tell you how much you mean to me.
One more second to see the sparkle in your eye.

If I had just one more day to be with you, I'd let go of my fears and anguish.
Just one more hour to grab another story from you.
One more minute to hear your laughter.
One more second to see you smile.

If I had just one more day to be with you, how grateful I'd truly feel.
Just one more hour to gain a bit of wisdom from you.
One more minute to let you know I care.
One more second to share an everlasting embrace.

The days are fleeting fast before me like a blink of an eye.
As time waits for no one to say their last goodbyes.
He leads them to that other side where we cannot see
We cannot reach, we cannot be until He's called us there.

For now, I will remain thankful for that last moment,
That last laughter, that last bit of happy life we use to share,
Knowing we will get that one more day, one more hour,
in the place where time stands still forever more.
~ Crystal Fugate (5/16/2011)

There is never enough time to say goodbye or prepare us for the loss of those who mean so much to us.  Every day should be a new beginning with those we care about.  Take advantage of the moment, the feeling to say, to be, and to live for today. We never know what tomorrow may bring nor can we see God's expiration dates on our lives. Yet we can be grateful for every hour and every second we share with one another.
Experience Today!

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Take It Easy...

These past few weeks have been really stressful for me. Losing a close friend, struggling with classes and work,  the worries of world and trying to keep up with other personal stuff in my life has brought me back to that place full of anxiety.  It's that place where I try to carry everything upon my shoulders while pushing God aside.  With so much going on in our society, I make up in my mind that He doesn't have time for me.  I assume my needy little prayers are so insignificant compared to the issues of others.

This is exactly how I felt today! :^) 
My mom with her grandpa,
Wayne Back (Bach). It's great to know God's
there when we cry like babies!

After sniffling over my troubles this morning, I remembered my handy little chart posted by my desk.  My chart has a list of those negative remarks that so often pop in my head.  I also have scripture and positive reinforcements listed against those negative remarks.  My favorite this morning was Hewbrews 13:5 which states I will never leave you nor forsake you.  Regardless of the troubles of the world, God has promised to always be there even when others disapppoint us or are not there.  He comforts us when we are scared, unsure of life, and even frightened of answered prayers.

A few weeks ago my cousin Teresa shared with me of photos of my mom from years ago hanging with her cousins, Charles, John, and Bob Fugate. How simple life seemed to be as a child with no responsibilities. Yet everyone seems to have struggles and responsibilities.  Wouldn't it be nice to just chill out in the wagon and let God pull it for awhile?
My mom hanging with her cousins,
Charles, John, and Bob Fugate

Blogging my struggles and getting refocused in His Word reminded me of chilling in that wagon.  The worries of my finals, family, friends, and the weight of the world is now in His Hands to carry. He can do a better job than I can.  :^) God Bless!
May your worries and struggles be lifted into His Hands.
Happy Mom's Day to My Mommy,
Patricia Colleen Fugate!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Heartbreak

Remembering a Great Friend - Thad Tranbarger
On Friday morning (4/15/11) I received the shocking news that my good friend & co-worker, Thad Tranbarger had passed away from a massive heart attack the night before.  For a moment I thought it was a joke as Thad always brought his goofiness and laughter to work. I was devastated and heart broken when I realized the truth. We had worked together for 7 years.  What's weird is that we were just goofing off the day before and he seemed just fine. He was only 47 years old and had gotten back on track of eating healthy.  How could this happen? I was and am still in a bit of a shock.

I remember that Thursday I asked his advice (as usual) on my degree plans.  His advice was to get a degree in what I loved the most regardless of the pay.  He said he wanted to be a chef! He always encouraged me to go for what I loved the most no matter what - to live life to the fullest; to never regret and take time to really enjoy life. Even though I never met his wife, he had such joy when he talked about their relationship.  I admired that they did so many things together. He provided her with so much support and loved spending time with his granddaughters. I can't imagine their little hearts breaking.


Thad's joke backfired on him on this day! LOL

Going through this loss reminds me of a little of losing my Grandma Jean and Dad all over again.  Thad had a quality similar to theirs.  He brought sunshine and laughter into our office and always had a positive outlook about life. Thad was like having a big brother at work. He loved to joke around but help people out at the same time.

Coming to work, a strange emptiness surrounds us now.  You struggle to be strong and deal with the pain, to move on. But we are not robots and we have emotions.  For some, it's easy to share feelings while others tuck their emotions away to hid the pain, to be stronger.  For me, remembering his joy and his laughter helps ease the pain.


This was our nut ball - Thad!
He would kill me for posting this!

This is life....full of new beginnings and losses.  What I hope to learn from this loss is to not be afraid of Life or Death. To take Thad's advice and live life - to enjoy every moment, every person, every pain, every joy, and yes, even sorrow, for God has the Plan, not us. All He asks is for us to Trust and Believe in Him and His Plan.

Enjoy this Moment as if it were your last....


We Love & Miss You, Thad. PCS will never ever be the same :^(

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Determined to be Positive by Giving Back

I have a close friend who has been enduring breast cancer for the last year.  I’ve seen her strength from within as she struggles with a new body image and the side effects of the chemo treatment pills.  The chemo pills can be like an evil friend.  They are the magic beans that help her body fight off the cancer cells but they also drag her down.  Every day she tolerates the sickness from the chemo.  What amazes me more is that the breast cancer is just another battle to her as she has fought many in her lifetime.  I often wonder where her strength comes from and how she maintains the fight.  Much of her strength comes from knowing that God provides her with the courage to keep going. The other half is just pure stubbornness and determination. I wish I had even a 3rd of her strength and courage.

After seeing the devastion of Japan's tsunami and being reminded constantly of our country's downward spiral, I find myself easliy drawn to the depression and anxiety like a magnet.  Just like the blackness from the tsumani enveloping Japan, so too, the depression creeps up on me like a monster, destroying everything in its path.

Regardless of who you are, battles in life are never ending.  Natural diasters like the tsunami and battles with health like cancer don't discriminate.  Jobs are lost and our loved ones pass on.  In an instant, lives can be changed and we are reminded that we are powerless.

During these trying times, I lean even more towards that Heavenly Power, remembering that He is still in control. Even though some days seem a bit trying, I can still have Hope knowing tough times do not last forever.  God still is and remains in Control even when our world seems out of control.

When I see what my friend is enduring, I can draw from her strength.  Being around positive and strong willed people influences me.   They brighten my mood and encourage hope.  I remind myself that anything is possible if it's God's will.  I continue to lean on that understanding and search out encouraging forces.

Not long ago, one of my friends shared with me about her aggravation at a McDonald's drive-thru.  The customer ahead of her was taking forever!  She and her daughter was growing angry and inpatient.  Finally their turn came and the cashier explained that her order was free.  The person ahead of her had just paid for their breakfast! Small things like that impact lives, our children, and reminds me how giving can be like a domino effect.  Regardless of whats going on, kindness and giving back brings hope back into our lives and others. It causes positive changes.


Through the struggles, I continue to remind myself of the blessings I do have. I enjoy giving back all that I can. Spending time with people, volunteering, and praying for a total stranger can make a huge difference in your mood. Like my friend, we have to be determined and stubborn to stay positive in a selfish world. We can make a difference in other people's lives.

Ways to Help:
* May your World be brighter within regardless of your surroundings & situation. *

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Weighing In by Liz Curtis Higgs

My friend Kirsten sent me this interesting article from Liz. This is something all of us women can relate to - weighing in on our appearance.  I look forward to reading more of Liz's books.

Weighing In

It's important to remember than God accepts us just as we are.  Seeking His Guidance for our lives should be more important that any diet or rules from society.  We are not conformed by what society tells us who we are but by who God Says we are.



http://www.lizcurtishiggs.com/

Liz Curtis Higgs Facebook Page

What's in Your Head? (Revised)

{Revised for Article}
I have never been that great at math.  I suppose I just didn’t “get” it.  Fortunately, my dad, who couldn’t read, was a math wiz.  My fondest educational memory was my 5th grade year when he sat down and drilled me on my multiplication.   He drew a multiplication table from my 1’s to my 12’s.  I memorized them all. My parents then bought me a “Mr. Professor” calculator for Christmas.  At first I was thrilled to have a calculator until I realized that Mr. Professor wasn’t a calculator at all but filled with math problem games.  In any case, these tools helped me do well in math for awhile.
I remember feeling so proud and excited the day I passed a math multiplication test.  However, some of my classmates and the teacher were aware that I didn’t do well in math.  One girl even accused me of cheating from her test and told the teacher.  Even though I knew the truth, I couldn’t convince her or the teacher that my dad had helped me.  I felt as if they wanted me to continue to fail.  Eventually my math skills started falling once again as their negativity towards me got “inside” my head.
I've been meaning to write this article for awhile now but just like that incident, the negative thinking gets the better of me.  With the negativity “inside” my head, I can’t accomplish much of what I really want to do.  Those phrases like, "Who cares what you have to say?" or "You're really not that good." seem to hold me back.  Actually those sayings are pretty friendly compared to a lot of the negative opinions I sometimes have towards myself.  
I endured a great deal of verbal abuse in my past. Though I am no longer in the situations of being attacked verbally, those weapons from the abuse are still lodged inside my head. Getting them out of my head is not an easy task.  Some weapons have been lodged in there for many years.  Yet I am determined to get them out someday.
Having a negative attitude and thinking negatively can feel almost like an attack to your own self.  Like the people of my past, I “lie” to myself by stealing my self-confidence and believing that I am not good enough.  So how do you defend yourself from…um.....your Self?? 
For me, awareness is the key.  There are those around us and even our own selves, who can steal our joy or bring us down, which may not be intentional.  However that negative atmosphere can cause us to lose the confidence in ourselves or even the world around us.  However, just by being “aware” that is happening helps us to see with clearer eyes.
A lot of times I may not take notice of the "inner" me - what I am really feeling.  I can start feeling angry, bitter, and complain a lot.  The sadness, numbness, or just the refusal to "feel" anything may set in.  When I feel worthless, out of control, or refuse to "feel" anything at all, that's a hint that the ghosts from my past are haunting my spirit once again.  I have allowed “something” to steal my happiness.
The sweet thing about awareness is realizing that we have choice.  I can choose to let the past control my future and fall into the same routine of being ugly towards myself.  Or I can choose to change my thinking and fight back.  I can choose to believe positive things towards myself such as "I am enough. I don't have to be perfect." I can choose to dwell on the positives of life by being grateful for every little aspect of my life.  Unlike my past, I can choose to associate with friends and family who have a positive impact in my life. Or I can be stubborn, like I am most days, and isolate myself. Regardless, I can choose my battles.  

I use to believe and was lead to believe that I didn't have choices.  Like many others in toxic relationships and addictive families, we choose to keep things "calm" on the home front.  We give up our confidence, feelings, needs, and wants just so that there is no trouble stirred up.  Amazingly, we bury those feelings so deep down within that we forget who we are, what we feel, and even what we want. Unfortunately, one of the worst parts about this behavior is that it’s like the gift {pain} that keeps on giving.  Verbal abuse, as with any abuse or negative pattern, can continue on within the family unless someone chooses to change the pattern.

Change can be easy but the willingness to change is the hard part.  We can take comfort though in knowing that we don't have to take on this battle alone.  That willingness part comes from realizing that we can't conquer those demons without God's help.  When we are willing and ready, God will provide the courage, determination, patience, and other stuff we need to change our destructive patterns. All we have to do is ask for His Help.  Remember to think about what you are thinking about by practicing.

Info about Codependency (http://www.coda.org/)
Info about Alanon (http://www.al-anon.alateen.org/english.html)

Negative Thinking + An Unwillingness to Change = Negative Results

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Whats in Your Head?

Verbal Abuse - The attack that keeps on attacking.
I've been meaning to write this entry for awhile now but unfortunately, my negative thinking gets in the way of me accomplishing much of what I really want to do.  On many occasions, the negative thoughts pop up in my head almost like an attack with phrases like, "Who cares what you have to say?" or "You're really not that good."  Actually those sayings are pretty friendly compared to a lot of the negative opinions I sometimes have towards myself.  In the past, I endured a lot of verbal abuse.  Even though I am removed from those negative situations of being verbal attacked, those weapons from the verbal abuse are still lodged within my head. Getting them out of my head is not an easy task.  Some weapons have been lodged in there for many years.  Yet I am determined to get them out someday.

Having a negative attitude and thinking negatively can feel almost like an attack to your own self.  So how do you defend yourself from…um.....your Self??  For me, awareness is key.  A lot of times I may not take notice of the "inner" me.  I can start feeling angry, bitter at times, and complain a lot.  Then the sadness, numbness, or just the refusal to "feel" anything may set in.  When I feel worthless, out of control, or refuse to "feel" anything at all, that's a hint that the ghosts from my past are haunting my spirit once again.

The sweet thing about awareness is realizing that we have choice.  I can choose to let the past control my future and fall into the same routine.  Or I can choose to change my thinking and fight back.  I can choose postive phrases like, "I am enough. I don't have to be perfect." I can  dwell on the positives of life. Being grateful.  I can choose to associate with friends and family who have a positive impact in my life. Or I can be stubborn, like I am most days, and isolate myself.  Regardless, I can choose my battles.  

In the past, I believed and was lead to believe that I didn't have a choice. Like others in toxic relationships and addictive families, we choose to keep things "calm" on the homefront.  We give up our feelings, needs, and wants just so there is no trouble stirred up.  Amazingly, we bury those feelings so deep down within that we forget who we are, what we feel, and even what we want. Unfortunately, one of the worst parts about verbal abuse, as with any abuse, is that its like the gift {pain} that keeps on giving.  That negative pattern can continue on within the family unless someone chooses to change the pattern.

Change can be easy but the willingness to change is the hard part.  We can take comfort though in knowing that we don't have to take on this battle alone.  That willingness part comes from realizing that we can't conquer those demons without God's help.  When we are willing and ready, God will provide the  courage, determination, patience, and other stuff we need to change our destructive patterns. All we have to do is ask for His Help.  Practice makes perfect, think about what you are thinking about.


Negative Thinking + An Unwillingness to Change = Negative Results

As Ethan would say "...Check your self before you wreck yourself." :^) (from the movie, Due Date)