Five Minute Friday: LOUD

Around here we write for five minutes flat on Fridays.

We write because we want to, not because we have to. We write for fun, for joy, for discovery.

We just write without worrying if it’s just write or not.

Won’t you join us?

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them.
OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:
LOUD

Its been six month since her Father died; her family knows she’s not ok. Her friends haven’t had a real conversation with her about life and emotions.

All they know is that she’s different; rightly so, losing someone you love dearly changes you. But this is different; she’s changed. A loud change, one you can hear from a mile away. The clothes, the music, the lifestyle, sadly the friends.

As if scared to stop for a moment; ponder life, ponder her father, ponder death. But no, quiet is painful. Its easier to keep talking, keep the music loud, the tv on. Watch the different colors, hear the noise. Something on all the time.

There is no time for quiet, no way to turn off the tv, not turning down the radio and definitely not going to stop talking so you have no way of asking me how I’m doing and have my noise and loudness in my soul quiet down for even a moment.

They basically didn’t want him.

I work at a school district  in the Nutrition/Food Service department. This department processes applications to free/reduced lunch.

The other day this lady calls and is asking about her ‘child’. He is considered a foster child.

We had to call her back and tell her to fill out an application at the district office so it can be processed later that afternoon and her child will be able to start receiving free lunch. My co-worker began to ask her questions.

The foster child is her grandson.

Co-worker: What happened to his parents?

Grandma: They basically didn’t want him. They were druggies.

Co-Worker: Oh my goodness really? That’s so sad.

Grandma: His mom had custody over him and she wouldn’t feed him. She would leave him alone for 4-5 hours everyday. She taped the refrigerator shut so he couldn’t eat anything.

Co-Worker: That’s horrible.

Grandma: I plan on keeping him. She can’t have him back. His dad is no better either. If she has another one, I’m going to kill her.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

After the conversation we started talking about that subject. How do some “parents” not even care? How can they leave their infant unattended for so long?

Personally, I’m sickened by some people and their selfishness. How selfish can someone be? What possesses one to completely neglect their child instead of seeking help? Even animals don’t forsake their babies.

When I was younger up until I started dating my Junior year in college, I didn’t want children. I babysit children and took care of them-fed them, played with them, etc. They weren’t even my children but I still made sure they were fed. They were happy. They were clean. It’s insane when you really think about it. I never had to FORCE myself to take care of them even through my laziness or frustration in watching 3 kids at one time…they still were getting that necessary attention.

 

So tell me, how does one become so twisted and psycho that they cannot take care of their child?

Delayed Gratification…

This past weekend life threw one of its many curve balls. . . Sickness, pain, suffering, were among everyone’s feelings this past week. It has caused me to ponder a bit.

In the Filipino culture we are taught at a very young age to pursue our studies to have a better life than our parents have. No matter how “well-off” we were when growing up, it’s not good enough they expect us to live better than that.

My parents have worked hard. I don’t think I grew up deprived of anything. I suppose one could make the argument that although materiality was readily accessible or able to be bought my parents never spoiled us by buying items we wanted just because they could. My parents made sacrifices for us and I have never felt the desire to take advantage of them.

I’m concerned. When have you actually reached “better” isn’t there always something “better”?

My parents have worked hard. Earning every vacation day they took whether in actual time off or dollars. As I sit here looking at their life, I would say they have reached the “American Dream” everyone hopes for. The “American Dream” right…? Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. They have definitely pursued this happiness, they found it freely in Christ. They gained a few extra things along the way: each other, 3 children, a home, a car for each driver, healthcare ( I had to throw that out there, sorry)…

Since I think they’ve reached the “American Dream” I want to know…”Have they enjoyed it?”

Everyone talks about delayed gratification. Putting off pleasure and happiness now and trading it in for sweat, hard-work, and tears. So what is the time limit of delayed? For a child, it may be graduating from High School or college. For the college student, it’s graduating from college and getting that first job. For the young adult, it’s vesting in an IRA. Do you notice how the time stamps never end? There is always one more rung on the ladder to step up to.

When is one able to enjoy his accomplishments? For the Senior, it may be the summer before starting college. For the college graduate, it may be the summer before adult responsibilities kick in (or maybe 6 months after graduation when the student loan bills start marching in). That’s when it stops though, the time. Maybe I should say that’s when time snowballs. As soon as the first bill comes in, adult life snowballs: “How do I pay this bill when I’m still looking for a job?” The questions and concerns never end.

So tell me. When does one enjoy? Does it take a medical scare to jar us from our delayed gratification goals? Does it take a family member’s death to shake us to what is really important in life? Does it take a fire to burn down all our possessions to realize we never enjoyed our “props” in the house.

So I ask you today: leave the housework for tomorrow and spend time with your children. Take a break and pick up the phone and call your parents. Sit in front of the computer and Skype with your cousin. Drive 3 hours on Saturday to visit your aunt. Write the letter, the 2 page hand-written letter you said you were going to write ages ago.

If you die in your sleep, your housework will be done by someone else but one cannot hug your child for you. One cannot write the letter you said you were going to. One cannot be ‘you’ as hard as they try.