Fire on the Rocky Road Today

It was bad enough that our biological clocks have to cope with Monday, but mine got topped with a fire where I work.  We are getting a new roof, and one of the roofer's pick-ups was backed up to the building.  Something in the bed of the pick-up caught fire.  The bed of the truck apparently contained a lot of flammable material because it burst into flames.

I was in the ARC when one of the workers and one of my co-workers came running in looking for fire extinguishers.  At that time, I had no idea what was on fire or how bad.  I showed the man where the fire extinguisher near my office was located.  Everyone was rushing around frantically.  I peeked out the window to see how bad it was, and I saw that the flames at that time were bursting forth about three to four feet above the bed of the truck.  I knew that we needed to call the fire department, so I ran to the front office to tell the assistant director what was happening, and that we needed to call the fire department.

You can see the back end of my car
 just on the other side of the truck.

I was going to go tell the Dean, and about that time the fire alarms went off.  Everyone in the building evacuated.  The fire trucks began to arrive, and by that time the flames were really engulfing the truck.  We heard a small explosion. The black smoke was boiling up in the air.  Someone said to me, "Isn't that your car sitting close to that truck?  Shouldn't you move it?"  I handed my keys to a personwho volunteer to try, and they took off toward my car. (I knew that I could not get in the smoke because of my breathing problems.) They were back in just a moment or two telling me that it was too hot to get near the car much less get in it and move it. 

We stood and watched while the firemen finally got it out.  The truck was black and gutted.  It is amazing that the gas tank did not explode.  There was a gas can in the back of the truck as well and it had made it through the that fire as well. 

My car appears to be okay, but it has a lot of soot on the roof. The fire chief is sending me a copy of the report today, and I am going to contact a business that specializes in convertible tops to see if it needs to be replaced because extreme heat does damage them.  I called my insurance company in the event I needed to get it replaced.  I learned a long time ago that you should always call your insurance company when something happens to just be on the safe side.   

One thing about it, my life is never dull!

http://www.amazon.com/Sylvia-L-Ramsey/e/B002BMJ5NI/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1326569308&sr=1-1

The Highs and Lows of the Rocky Road and Hanging on With Love, Faith and Guts

The paperback proof has arrived! This weekend will be spent going over it carefully looking for any errors.  The final look before it goes to press.  There are so many things yet to do and so little time.  The brain is in a foggy whirl and writing at this point is difficult to find the words.  I have planned, but there is so much yet to do.  This book and the others are of more importance to others than to me.  Who knows, it may even save a few if they read the book. 

Right now it is difficult to write for more reasons than the book.  One of my very dear friends is going through what I did with my first husband.  Another young person I know is facing so many hardships right now, and I cannot do anything but stand by and be there if they need me.

In both situations I feel empathy, but useless.  I am a doer and a fixer...I can do none of this...so, I wait until I can.

The Silent Muse

Silence surrounds the muse

    like the murky veil

    on a smoke-stained rose

   that enfolds a city’s dawn

   as the elegant words

   of pomp and circumstance

   are as voiceless

   as the cry of a city’s neon lights.

In agony, he craves respite

    from the tyranny  of a need 

   that makes him a wanton, helpless pawn

   that lures him tauntingly

   like a siren lures a ship

   toward the hidden craggy rocks

   on cold, rainy, foggy, nights.

Thus, taunts this siren

   tricking the mind

   with ghostly strains

   of lilting rhyme

   to entice the muse,

   causing the need to be stirred

   when the mind’s curtain is drawn

    to suffer silent, voiceless nights.

© Sylvia L. Ramsey 2005

The Rocky Road Levels Out for a Moment in Time

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky".  ~ Rabindranath Tagore

It is back to work on my blogs, my book and my writing.  My computer has arrived, programs installed, and now all I have to do is to acclimate myself to a new operating system and new word processing program.  The only complaint I have about the new word processing program is that they do not just add new features, but they move the commands for the familiar ones.  It becomes a games of hide and seek,  and a challenge to overcome. 

The final editing is almost complete, and the only thing left to do before it is off to the publisher is to indicate where the pictures are to be placed.  Sometimes it is tempting to go back and add more to the book, but you have to stop somewhere.  My editor said that it will required a revised edition in the future, and I suppose that will be the rest of the story. 

The writing of this book has been difficult at times because it has brought back memories I would rather forget.  But, I decided that if recording my experiences would help someone else to let them know they are not alone, and that with perseverance they can survive, the discomfort of my reflections are worth it.

One of the poems from my book:  Pulse Points of a Woman's World

Reflections of My Mind

I have grown weary

of the reflections of my mind.

As it mirrors images

of life‘s ups and downs.

It holds memories

both harsh and kind,

Rushing into view

by leaps and bounds. 

The mirror of my mind is

marred with clutter and dust,

Demanding to be cleaned

by a cloth with a ruthless hand.

Banishing the blurred images

from view is a must.

So, with arduous determination,

a clean mirror, I demand.

Soon my mental mirror

is bare as a tack,

But then, I analyze it

from my mind‘s door,

And, I know no peace

until it is back,

The reflection cluttered

as before.

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams". ~  Jeremy Irons

Overcoming the Rocks in the Road

“Opposition is a natural part of life. Just as we develop our physical muscles through overcoming opposition - such as lifting weights - we develop our character muscles by overcoming challenges and adversity.” ~ Stephen R. Covey

 My new computer is scheduled to arrive tomorrow.  I can then begin the final polish on my book.  I have an angel who is proofing it.  I must thank Dr. Aman Kay who is an Internationally published author who has encouraged me along the way to completing this work.  He has been a mentor, an encourager, and now has volunteered to serve as an editor to make sure the book is ready to be published.   

He keeps telling me that my story is one that must be read by all.  He says that is tells an honest story of survival , faith and perseverance that will inspire others to hold on to hope and to not give up.  I hope he is right because I have been honest in the telling even though it is simple and a "literary" work of art.   

Cynthia Kinsella who is the President of the American Bladder Cancer Society has contributed a message recalling our first meeting, and the importance of the messages within the book.  I have added this message as the epilogue to the book.   

If  my story can be helpful or inspiring to others, that is all I can ask.  I am a firm believer in what Edward Everett Hale said, "I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do".

More about Traveling a Rocky Road with Love, Faith and Guts

By the time I was born, my family had built a small modest home, and lived in a very rural area.  My mother and father had survived the depression, managed to buy some land, and start a business.  My family was not rich by any definition of the term, but during my childhood and considering the time when I grew up, we were comfortable. When I was about four-years-old, I traversed my first personal rocky road of illness.  There are some memories that are vague about the experience, and some remain very vivid in my mind.  I remember that I was very ill, and because we lived in a fairly remote rural area, the medical facilities were limited.  Our family doctor’s diagnosis was polio. 

There is more about this journey in the book, and how faith and determination made a difference.  Coming in 2012.

I remember that he told my mother that I needed to go to a hospital where I would receive the care I needed.  He said he would try to find one, but it may be difficult because there were so many children with polio.  It was during the time there was a polio epidemic around the country, there was no vaccine, and hospital beds for children were hard to find because the beds were full with so many children who had this disease. The doctor finally found Saint Mary’s Hospital in St. Louis that had a bed in the children’s ward open.  During those days, it was a very long trip to travel to St. Louis by car or by train.  My father took us to St. Louis where I was admitted into the hospital.  

Sharing "Charlie's Story" from my Book, Traveling a Rocky Road

The Story of Charlie

            There was a very important lesson that I learned about the importance of faith and giving when I first starting teaching.   I learned this lesson at a very small, rural school in the Midwest. There were a total of two-hundred and fifty students in the entire high school.  I selected this school because I wanted to know my students and their families, and so I could be close enough to take care of my mother whose health was failing.  The school was located in a fairly remote area with very little means for employment.  There was only one school in the county, and the county was considered to be one of the poorest in the state because most of the land was state and federal forestland. 

            I taught communication classes, and I began a Speech & Debate team.  I had one young man in a speech communication class that had the reputation of being the class clown.  At this time, I did not know this fact about him because I was new.  We will call him Charlie (not his real name) for the purpose of the story.  On the first day of class, the students were to take turns going up to the podium to introduce themselves.  When Charlie’s turn came, he walked to the podium, and before he could say a word, the entire class burst out laughing at him.  I knew they were making fun of him, but I had no idea why.  It really made me angry so I chastised the entire class.  Charlie had a wonderful deep vocal quality that would make a great radio announcer or a public speaker, and this is what I told the class. 

            After I had been teaching a few weeks, I learned of Charlie’s reputation.  However, I also learned that there was more to the story.  Charlie was a big boy, overweight and his father was dead.  In addition to that, his mother was an alcoholic.  Charlie was apparently drinking with his mother because he occasionally came to school with the smell of alcohol on him.  The other teachers had already decided that his future would be the town drunk.  They had no faith in the possibility that he would be anything else.  After about a month in my class, Charlie approached me after class to ask if I thought he could be on the Speech & Debate team.  I was thrilled, but I was also feeling a bit cautious after all things I had been told.  However, I said of course he could be on the team and that he would be good in original oratory.  I knew that was one of the categories I could help him put together, and he could memorize it for competition.  He joined the team; he competed and even brought home a few ribbons.

            Later that year in the spring, he came to me again.  This time Charlie asked if I thought he could ever go to college.  Even though I had a few doubts, I kept them to myself.  He was beginning to show change, have confidence in himself, and his classmates were beginning to see him differently as well. I told him that of course he could.  I told him he could do anything he wanted, as long as he wanted it badly enough and was willing to work hard to achieve it.  I, also, told him that if he really wanted to go to college, it would be very hard because he had goofed off so much.  I told him that he would have to take classes to prepare for the college level courses.  I wanted to make sure that he realized that the road he wanted take was not going to be easy.  Charlie worked hard the rest of the year.  I did not tell him, but I visited the community college that was in a town close by.  I went to speak with the Speech Communication Department Chair.  I told him about Charlie, and I did not leave anything out.   I even had the courage to ask if there was any way Charlie could be helped financially.  Because of my faith in Charlie, he was given a small departmental scholarship. 

            The fact that Charlie got that scholarship put me in the doghouse with most of the other teachers.  I received a lot of flack over it.  Charlie graduated, and began college.  He had to take many remedial English and Math classes to make up for his past behavior.  He was given a work-study position at the college, and he worked part-time at another job.  Charlie kept in touch with me to let me know how he was doing in his classes.  He took his first speech class that first semester, and at the end of it, he came to my home to show me that he had made an A in his first real college class.  He was so proud of it.

            Charlie did not give up on his quest for a college education, he earned his Associate of Arts degree, and then went on to a University where earned his Bachelor’s degree.  While he was working on his bachelor’s degree, he kept in touch to keep me up with his progress.  Once he achieved this degree, he went on to get his Master’s Degree.  His job today is in the field of social services that helps handicapped adults. 

            Charlie was one of my students some twenty-plus years ago.  He still calls at Christmas to let me know how he is doing, and to check on me. 

Lesson Learned:

            Charlie taught me never to judge a student by their past, their records, or what other teachers say about them.  He taught me that having faith and caring can make all the difference.  It brings to mind the last verse in Robert Frost’s poem, “The Road Not Taken”.  

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I did not make judgments based on others opinions, or past history.  I learned that had I not had faith in Charlie, the outcome more that likely would have been quite different. Charlie taught me that a little faith, hope and love goes a long way, and as a teacher our attitudes and behavior plays a very big role in the lives of our students.  All these years I have remembered Charlie, and what he taught me about a teacher’s influence on his or her students. 

         I wrote the following poem, after I had encountered several Charlies along my travels on life's road.  There are so many Charlie's along the way, and everyone that can be reached, everyone one that you can do something to make a difference in their lives is the most rewarding thing you can do.  So, if you run into a Charlie who is going through a really rough time, you never know what influences you can have on his or her life that makes all the difference.  Maybe, just maybe, they will take the road less traveled.

                           

                            Little Boy Lost 

               Little boy lost with big brown eyes

                           all alone in a crowd staring back at me

               Reflecting memories clear and blurred

                           watching, waiting for someone to see

               The stains of heart-sick tears cause

                            by illusion’s shimmering veil torn

               And stripped by neglect and pain leaving

                            youth’s shining armor scarred and worn.

               There sits the little dark-haired boy,

                           with sorrowful eyes that taunt,

               Invading my sleep as they squeeze through

                           the bars of my mind to roam and haunt

              Like a twisted road that somehow strayed

                           to leave me awake with mocking tears

              Wondering how such harsh, callous wounds

                           on innocence and youth can be made.

              How can I reach this little boy lost

                          with such bitter wisdom, so full of gall,

              From forgotten worth by the wraith of life

                          fighting a battle to survive it all, or ease

             The suffering from many a remembered blow

                         giving relief from the long dull pain

              So that the bright brave banners of youth

                         may fly unfurled and true again.

If you want to know more about others and their works in the publishing world, don't forget to visit my other blog, Thoughtful Rflections Blogspot at  http://wwwthouhtfulreflections.blogspot.com/.

My first blog about my book, Traveling a Rocky Road with Love, Faith and Guts

As I have traveled along life’s highway, I keep running into people who have let the rocks that have been thrown in their life’s road giving up on themselves, or life in general.  The truth is that life is harsh, and it is not like the movies that give a false impression that it is smooth sailing.  Being the hero that toughs it out and keeps on regardless of the situation is difficult, but with faith, it can be accomplished. It often takes a backbone, humor and a wishbone to survive it all.

Because of this, I decided to write a book to share my life’s experiences so that it may inspire someone to come back fighting when life knocks them down.  The book is a journey though time from childhood to mature adulthood.  The stories and poems in this book reflect the lows and highs of life.  The loving memories, the hardships and the things we learn as we travel the road of life.  It covers an abusive mother who had mental problems because of being abused as a child, childhood polio, a rocky marriage with a husband who was often abusive, the role of caregiving, death and grief, coping with bladder cancer, asthma, losing a home and more.  Therefore, to not to scare you off with gloom and doom, there are funny stories along the way and an ending that I never dreamed would happen.

My hope is that the book will bring about understanding to others, and be inspiring to even more.  Our journey in life has a purpose, finding it is often the most difficult task of all.