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Moving On

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Moving On – by Anonymous

I always feel a need to explain myself to others when I say that I don’t have a relationship with my mother. She used to be a raging alcoholic, but now she is a highly functioning one. I know that this isn’t who she really is and that addictions take over the ones we love the most.

JH1It is a very disheartening process and it unfortunately strikes many people.

Recently, I have cut her out of my life in the most complete way. It wasn’t mean and not a lot of words were exchanged, but it feels like my soul released toxins from itself. My anxiety is at an all-time low and I am a much happier person.

Compared to my siblings, my mother and I barely had a relationship. It was the best it had been for us since I was a pre-teen… before she started drinking again. I am not sure why it is different, but I am glad. I am truly happy that my siblings have a different relationship with her and their kids know their grandmother.

I would never want the situation reversed, no matter how many tears have fallen. She did a lot of terrible things before this, but the purpose of my writing isn’t to tell you how terrible she can and has been. It is to know that it is ok to let toxic people go, even if they are your family.

You are the only person who can truly make yourself happy, don’t let others get you down – NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE!

When I was in college, my mother would call me screaming about random terrible things. This was a time before I had the strength to not answer when she called me. The want and need to have a relationship with my mother pulled tightly at my heart, so I answered almost every time. It usually didn’t go well. I would fall back into a deep depression after every phone call.

My life felt like one step forward and two steps back. I wouldn’t speak to her off and on for various reasons, most had to do with her actions. The internal need to feel loved by her felt like gravity and I would fight it, but the instinct would win each time. It was a high feeling when she would show me love, like I couldn’t get enough of it.

She, of course, knew it.

I eventually became icy when I was around her, even when things were good. It was my only defense against her when she became cruel. If she couldn’t read my emotions, then she wouldn’t know how to hurt me.

The screaming phone calls came less and less and things were better for a time. When I would tell her something positive in my life, she would take over the phone call about her “Glory Days” and run over my positive news. I took those types of call over the ones we previously exchanged.

JH2I wanted her to get healthy so bad that I offered her help in every aspect of her life that was negative. She hated her house, so I offered to help fix it up on numerous occasions. Felt ugly because of wardrobe, so I offered to buy her new clothes. The list goes on and on.

She was always immediately excited, but once we got to the store to get paint or Kohl’s to buy something new, she wanted to wait for some unknown reason. I finally stopped asking and offering, because I didn’t think she really wanted change. It was either scary or she wouldn’t have anything to complain about.

The only ammunition my mother had left to hurt me was my relationship with my siblings.

I honestly didn’t know that there was anything left she could hurt me with, but I left myself wide open. It was a shock and a surprise when she got in the middle of us and used manipulation, it destroyed me completely.

For two weeks I had crippling anxiety and slipped into a deep depression. It had been years since I allowed her to do that to me.

Yes, “allowed”, because I have control of how I react to events and what events I will take part in.

My mother refused to tell them the truth and tried to turn the events on me, this was the point of no return for me. It wasn’t a breaking point, because it wasn’t climactic at all. It was as though something fell off of me and I realized that she can’t hurt me anymore.

No amount of hitting, screaming, guilting, manipulating, or any type of abuse can hurt me anymore. She played her very last hand and it was over, finally over!

I don’t wish my mother any ill will or hope something bad happens to her. I will always love her, but it has to be from afar. I honestly hope that she quits drinking and starts making positive life choices for herself.

JH3I wish her the best and I hope that she forgives herself for the horrific things she has done throughout her life, not just to me, but to a lot of people. I wish her a peaceful mind and a wonderful life, even though I do not ever wish to be in it again.

It has taken a few years of therapy to know that I am worthy of love and that I can walk away from any toxic situation or relationship. I used to be mad at the world for what my mother put me through – I didn’t want to live like that anymore.

It turned my life from thinking negative all of the time to positive. I am complimented each day for how positive I am and how I live my life to the fullest.

I am not perfect, but I try to be a better person each and every day.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Honesty

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

People Change – by Anonymous

Honesty.

It’s a simple word yet it’s the toughest thing to do. I try to be as honest as I can within reason. There is so much more I would like to say and tell people in all aspects of my life.

H1 - CopyFamily; there are few I would like to tell how they constantly hurt me with stories from the past about how I was treated different because I chose one parent over the other during their divorce. I was a child but it was not fair to treat me different for the rest of my life or tell me how I wasn’t wanted.

After being told these things, I was able to look back and see how true it was. At the time I was unaware.

Because of those things, I can’t be honest myself about some things because I know it would hurt those around me and make things awkward. I want to say how things bother me about the way the people in my life are treating each other and their attitudes.

I would love to tell a few how I honestly feel. Some I can’t stand because of loud and annoying tendencies they have, others I think are great and attractive, and how some are just there in my life.

The friends in my life – I would like to tell a few off, and others how much they affect me without knowing. Some just do and say the dumbest stuff while others ignore the fact that I am trying to remain their friends while they ignore me… won’t even return a text.

Some I would like to just sit down and open up wholeheartedly to but feel I will be judged too harshly. I shouldn’t feel that way but people today don’t know how to be real friends. And this is about honesty so I am being just that.

Like some of the others I would like to tell them they are great and attractive while others I just think “what the hell?”

Work is a whole new ball game. There is just so much I would love to say to my boss. The way things are delegated and handled at the top is a joke. It used to be a family-based company, as far as for them and the employees, but not anymore.

It’s about one family… theirs and making them rich. Would be nice if things would go to the way they were when the employer cared about those working for them.

I am not sure the world could actually handle if everyone were totally honest because there would be a lot of hurt feelings. With the way society is today, those hurt feelings would most likely end in more lawsuits or fights, or any way that isn’t progressive.

Everyone would know where they would stand with each other but that’s not necessarily a good thing.

H2 - CopyI am one of the most honest persons I know but I do hold back. There is such a thing as too honest, or honest to a fault.

So to those of you out there… you are assholes, you keep screwing up, you are very attractive and I’m drawn to you, you need to handle your shit better, and you are great and I love you.

You figure out who you are and where you stand.

If I were to tell you… then things would just get weird. So be selective with your honesty, but still be as honest as you can.

That’s how I live and will continue to do so.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Crushingly Beautiful

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Crushingly Beautiful – by Anonymous

There are times in our lives that we need a boost or a leg up to make the world a little more stable. I had been wearing the same clothes for two weeks, some of them unwashed.

The foster system was an unknown, scary place that I had only heard horror stories about. My mother and stepfather told me that girls were beaten and raped when they enter and are never seen again.

CB1From the last encounter with my family, I knew I stood a better chance on the “what if” than in my house. Death or an “accident” would have happened and they promised it if I told anyone what was going on.

My mother was drastically losing control of her once perfect life and threw us down the rabbit hole with her.

When I entered the system, I only had the clothes on my back; ripped boy pants, a throw away black t-shirt, a bra that had the wires poking out at either sides, broken sandals, and my underwear. I wasn’t looking back and hoping for my clothes back, because the future held more for me than the past.

My mother was forced to give me a bag of clothes before I went into my first foster home. She sent a bag that consisted of one sock, one shoe, my sister’s size zero jeans, and my stepdad’s ripped jacket.

All unusable…

When I was placed in my foster home it was unnatural – the people were not monsters as my family had promised. They were not warm and kind, but they were much better than where I came from. So, I kept my mouth shut.

My first day back to school was rough. Everyone wanted to know where I had been and why. I didn’t tell anyone and I didn’t shed a tear for myself. I was under the impression that crying was weakness and admitted defeat. My good friend asked me about my situation in our Math class and I told him that I didn’t live at home anymore.

What about your stuff?” He asked.

I told him, “This is all I own.

He didn’t say anything else the entire hour. The next day was very similar to the first and it was really depressing. I came to school in the same clothes I wore for the last 14 days; they were getting pretty ragged from the extra wear.

I went to my Math class expecting it to go like every other class, but something unexpected happened.

My friend had a very large bag with him and a smile plastered on his face. He handed me the bag and said, “I just had these clothes lying around my house and I was going to donate them. Can you see if you would like anything before I give them away?

CB2I knew that he was trying to not make me embarrassed and feel like a charity case. It was very kind of him to take this approach.

I softly said, “Thank you” with my head towards the floor.

Later that night, I opened the bag on my borrowed bed and found many t-shirts and pants. I didn’t care that they were boys’ clothes or that they were a little big; I loved all of them.

I instantly started crying.

It was the first glimmer of hope that I had in a long time and it felt crushingly beautiful.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

People Change

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

People Change – by Anonymous

People change.

Not everyone does but some do.  When I was younger I was part of the “in crowd”, thought I was something and believed the friends I had then were close and forever.

PC1Now – as I repeatedly look back… I see I was an ass.

I was helped to realize this because of social media.  I have requested some friendships and have either been denied or ignored.  It’s an eye opener.

What I used to think was funny was actually hurtful, but at the time I didn’t realize it or I probably just ignored it.  I used the way I treated others as a type of enjoyment for myself and to entertain others around me.

People would say it was because I was younger and didn’t know better.  We knew better.  We knew the difference between right and wrong and we can see when we hurt people.  I didn’t do it physically, but verbally and a little mentally.

I have reached out and messaged a few directly and also was ignored and not responded to… and I don’t blame them.

I wouldn’t want to be friends or be reminded of my past by a name I was hoping to forget.  It hurts me that my name is synonymous with the term “bully”, but I cannot change my past – and I have my present.  I do what I can for others and do so without making a fuss.

I don’t like attention anymore.  Good or bad.

I would like a second chance, but not everyone is willing to give it.  I have been thinking about this a lot lately because of the loneliness I feel.  I am not completely alone, I have a family that I love and love me in return.

I am not the same person who I was back then and I am relieved they didn’t know that person.  I have new friendships but I am not really known by anyone.  I don’t let people in because I myself don’t know who I really am.

PC2… I just know who I am not anymore.

I will keep doing what is right and helping when I can, but – most important – I will keep reaching out to those from my past to make amends.  I will raise my kids to be like the person I am… and not the one who I was.

I am on them constantly about doing the right thing and being a good person. I AM one of the people who have changed and will continue to do so.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Is It Just Me??

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Is It Just Me?? – by Anonymous

Am I the only one that feels this way?

I live in a house with my spouse and two children, work around a bunch of people, and attend a church with numerous members… yet nobody knows me. I am surrounded by people but have a constant feeling of loneliness.

BMG1I give a great performance of a strong, outgoing, and happy person. Deep down, I don’t even know who I am. I don’t like what I do for a living, or – more accurately – who I work for. I feel lost in every part of my life. I want more but I’m not sure what it is.

I feel I should be doing more to help others and constantly offer yet nobody takes me up on it. I try to be a good, true friend to most who say they are my friend in return – but they all seem like a one-sided friendship. I can go days or even a week without my phone going off with a phone call or text to see how I’m doing.

Nobody calls just to chat, and when I reach out I feel as though I’m being a burden. I don’t have a friendship where we share inside jokes or have memories that just we share. I have no stories that start with “Remember that time when we… “.

My phone does however go off when somebody needs something. “Can you do this or do that for me; I will give you some money?

I would rather you just ask, as opposed to insulting me with money. I would do it because we are friends.

My family doesn’t even know me.

I avoid most of them lately because of things that I keep being told. Things such as how I was unwanted when I was born, or that my sibling was my parents’ favorite.

Nobody wants to hear these things. These are things people should take to their grave. It serves no purpose in telling me other than to drive a wedge between us and the people who said it. I know and feel things that I would like to say to others about the past, but would do no good but to hurt them.

I’m not about hurting others the way they hurt me.

BMG2I have been vague about some of the things about me because I don’t want the attention it would cause. I’m not one who likes to have, or be the center of it all.

I will continue with my charade around everyone, family and friends, though I have a hard time believing in what a family should be or what a true friendship is anymore. I am hoping that one day I will witness what those two things should actually be and wish to be a part of either or both.

I’m not a writer by any means, but wanted to let people know that no matter what one looks like on the outside… they could be hurting on the inside.

Take the time to reach out to family or friends and show how you truly feel about them. A little of your time will make a huge difference to one that feels lonely in a world of people.

 

(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

When Did YOU Choose?

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

My wise and talented – beyond her years – daughter has once again graced us with her work.

 

When Did YOU Choose? – by RMFP

One of the popular debates lately has been, “Should we allow gay marriage in the United States?

RP1In my opinion, that should not even be a question.  In a country where we are supposedly free, why are some people not allowed to marry the person they have fallen in love with?  Just because the marriage consists of two men or two women, how does that change anything?

Love is love, and gender has nothing to do with it. Why shouldn’t two people be allowed to live out their love story?

Many people say that the marriage of two men or two women is “against my religion”.  If it is against your religion, then I advise that you do not get one.  Let other people live their lives and don’t worry about it.

When is it ever our business if two people get married?

In my English class we have been talking about diversity between race, gender and culture, but we have never discussed the diversity between people who are LGBT… and people who are straight.

Because of who somebody loves, we judge them.

I honestly do not care if you love a man, a woman, or both. You are the same person you were before I knew about your love life.

Some people also believe that LGBT people choose to be who they are.

For people who believe that, I ask you a question – when exactly did you sit down and decide that you were going to be straight?

RP2I truthfully cannot wait until people realize that who we love does not change who we are.  One day, I hope we will love everybody because of their personality, not their race, gender, sexuality, religion, or culture.

That is all I have to say, and I hope that after you have read this, you have a different perspective on this topic.

 

-RMFP

 

(RMFP “Be My Guest” columns: http://www.thekmfp.com/author/rmfp/)
(Other “Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES:
http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Fly High Nines

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Fly High Nines – by The Pad

This might be the hardest humble pie I have ever eaten. But it is necessary, so here goes.

TP1I want to apologize to everyone I have ever hurt, manipulated, lied to or treated with anything but respect. I’ve made a lot of bad choices in my life, and I have paid the ultimate price for them. I am alone because of it. No marriage, no children, and the only substance in my life after baseball… was substance abuse.

You know – you start out and you start to live a lie, and it is easy for people to believe them, so it’s just a spiral downward.  Then you realize you’re not fooling many of the people that you used to fool, when it gets to the point where you know you’re fooling anyone but you know of no other way to do things, so people learn to accept it… and things keep going.

Then – one day – you wake up and realize everybody that cares about you, everyone you cared about, everyone that had faith in you is gone.

But it’s still easier to keep going the way you know how than it is to change.

This was my definition of insanity……. not doing the same thing over and over again expecting something different to happen, but doing the same thing over and over again knowing nothing was going to change; that’s fucking insanity!

This all culminated in the climax of my nephew passing away. What hurts worse than him passing away, is that – because of my stubborn ways and just plain ignorance – I didn’t talk to him for five months before, and got the phone call at two in the morning.

Believe me; I couldn’t even begin to describe the pain and guilt that I feel because of that. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret picking the phone up one time and calling and talking to him.

It haunts me to the point of tears every… single… night – which is why I’m even writing this.

Call it a testimony, apology, or just call it the right thing to do, but I never want to feel this feeling ever again, so I’m telling anybody and everybody I’ve ever hurt, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Don’t ever let stupidity, a false sense of security or just plain ignorance get in the way of telling someone how you feel about them ‘cuz there will come a day when you can’t.

I want to take a minute to thank the people that have been, and are still in my life that cared: My mom, Margie Lentz – the best and strongest woman I have ever met in my life, FOR REAL; my sister, Gina Stewart – what else can I say? THE BEST COOK EVER, I LOVE YOU.

TP2My niece, Jordyn Stewart – my little twin. You might not be proud of that, but I sure am of the strong young woman you have become. Debbie Oathout – my second mom, and as cool as they come. Garrett Duross for having faith in me when the rest of the family saw my father.

This also includes you Thomas Fleming and James Longfritzz.

My BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD Julie Wichmann Spahr – the biggest heart I have ever known! EVER!!!!

Chad Buehner – for being the most intuitive catcher and teammate I’ve ever had. I don’t think I shook you off one time… and those trips to the mound were priceless – thanks brother.

Diana Watson and Duane Keith Daugherty – for bringing me into their home with no hesitation. Linda Ramsey – for always having something positive to say… always.

Brian and Kristi Abney for opening your home to me also – anytime. Timothy Bobbish – for making my sister happy, how to be Bobbish! Jim Herget, for giving me an employment opportunity – even though my health prevented me from holding up my end.

Chris Mautz – for teaching me it IS ok to tell someone how you feel without worrying about how it might make them feel. ‘Cuz when it is all said and done, take care of number one first.

Jamie Hartmann Patrick, Staci Iahn Schiele, Mark O’Toole, Kristin Kimmel-Roberts, Todd Tate, Shelly Wisniewski-James, and “K MOTHER-FUCKING P” – for always trying to lift my spirit and self-worth, even when it was probably what you thought was beating a dead horse.

By the way, first of the year and the pen will fly, I promise! “Barbara Anne” – I’m coming, how about Sunday? I just have to figure out how to get there – “Life of Brian”? Hehe.

And Andrea Schultz Passig – for putting up with my angry, out of control ass, plus anyone else I left out – it wasn’t on purpose. This is hard enough as it is, believe me. I just didn’t want to lose anybody else before I got the opportunity to tell everyone how I felt.

It isn’t a cliché people – you do get sick and tired… of being fucking sick and tired!

So – with a little bit of life that I probably have left – aaaaah who the fuck am I kidding…. assholes live forever… it is time for a change.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

Thank you very much, be safe and tell the people who you love that you love them, because it will make a difference – especially if you can’t anymore. Two things in this upcoming year: one – the me I was intended to be; and two – look the fuck out 1-2 pocket, here I come!!!!!!!

And most of all to you – Cameron Stewart – I’m sorry… and I miss you. #flyhighnines

Be safe and dream like you mean it.

TP3Thanks everyone. And thank you KMFP. I was never scared when I toed the rubber. This thing called life is a different story… but I’m trying… I’m really trying.

I didn’t do this for sympathy – believe me. There are a hundred things people would rather read than this bullshit, and I’m willing to bet none of it has to do with Ferguson either. But I did it so I am now accountable.

Gonna’ be a rough ride – but this time I can say; yes I am scared… but scared is good.

It has been quite some time since I have been scared of anything, so here goes – Merry Christmas my friends.

Live like you are dying… but love like you never will. Peace.

 

(“Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)
(The Pad ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/author/the-pad/)

Giving Thanks

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Giving Thanks – by BAB

Thanksgiving week hasn’t been a week of celebration since I lost my mother 27-years ago.  I was twelve when she passed away and to this day I can still  see my sister Mary standing by the phone downstairs as I got home from school, making sure my younger sister and I wouldn’t answer the call that was coming.

BAB1For the past 27-years I would look for any excuse to not celebrate the holiday.

When I worked at a gas station I would work a double on Thanksgiving and – once I moved into computer operations and IT management – I would volunteer to take the Holiday shift or the on-call responsibility for the holiday.

See for all those years I was bitter; I didn’t want to give thanks or celebrate the day that served as a reminder of the day my life changed forever.  However – what happened to me on April 24th, 2013 made me reevaluate everything.

From 2000 to April of 2013, I had cultivated a comfortable life for myself.  I had become a well-respected Oracle Database Administrator at a large financial institution and lived near the beach. Life was going great.

However – for several months starting on April 24th, 2013 – everything in my life was on hold. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to work again, much less continue the high stress/high demand life of IT work.

I have no memories of what happened between that date and Christmas of the same year.

I couldn’t focus on anything, I couldn’t go out in public because of the noise and I couldn’t hold a conversation. Nobody, including the doctors, had any idea of what my diagnosis was – or IS – and that might be the scariest part.

I don’t know if it will happen again. Think about that for a moment… losing eight months of memories and knowledge – it’s a scary feeling.

Those eight months made me reevaluate everything in my life.

I still have trouble going out to this day; I can’t play softball or hang out with friends more than one night a week due to the amount of rest I need each day to function.  However I have come to realize just how much I truly have to be thankful for.

I have a second chance to make things right.

I am thankful for the strongest woman I know – my sister Mary, my mother Charlotte and the whole Dolan family who accepted my sisters and I as their own, and helped mold us into the people we have become.

BAB2I want to thank the many family members including my father, brother in-law and cousin Brian (just retired), who have served this great country of ours.

I am also thankful for my friends that have been there through thick and thin, especially Tony, Jonathan, Bryon, Kevin – whose stories I use to inspire other friends – and last but not least, my beautiful fiancé Julie.

Most importantly I am thankful that God has given me the second chance to truly appreciate how blessed I am.

What are you thankful for this holiday season?

 

(“Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

Crushed

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

“Crushed”

Running, Looting, Stealing, Burning

 

Tears come to meet me,

While emotions overtake you.

CR1Ruining fragile lives,

For a man you never knew.

Wondering and pondering,

Where your hate lies.

 

Running, Looting, Stealing, Burning

 

The city in flames

Ashes falling like snow

A rubble of your past life

What is your predicted outcome?

The war has started

Hate is all that remains

 

Embracing, Giving, Loving, Extinguishing

 

Should be the only way,

To save our humanity

From the evils within.

 

(“Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

My Hero

As hard as it is to come to terms with, I realize that my talent alone cannot carry this site, though I’ll never quite understand that…

Aside from what I feel is already a first-rate staff, I’d love to give others with my passion an outlet for their work and, personally knowing the satisfaction that it brings – as crazy as that may sound to those of you not blessed/cursed with the “gift” of pen to paper – the pride of having it seen by others.

If this passion burns inside of you – alright, I’ll cut the schmaltzy hogwash – if you dig writing and want a chance to put it out there, drop me a line and we’ll see what comes of it. (KMFPthe@gmail.com)

 

Our newest BE MY GUEST submission comes from none other than the daughter of our very own Barbara Anne!

 

My Hero – by KLH

A hero does not have to have powers or gadgets.  A real hero has courage, remains selfless, is a role model and cares about people.  A hero is a person who everyone looks up to because we want to be just like that person.

BMG1My hero is my Grandma Dee.

My grandma was a fighter of cancer.  She wasn’t scared of it either.  From the time she was out of the hospital she spent time with her kids and grandkids.  Most of the time she was in great pain because of the cancer, but she was selfless and continued spending time with us.

She was a fantastic role model.  She would do as much as she could before she had to go back to the hospital.

I remember when she went back.  It was a sad little room to stay in, wondering if she was going to die today.  These thoughts raced through my head too over and over I would cry every time I saw her there, just lying in bed with so much pain.

However – she was brave and didn’t let it take her normal life away.  She would talk to her grandkids and smile every time we came to visit.

Therefore, my grandma is my hero.

She was brave, selfless and a good role model who cared.

 

(“Be My Guest” column ARCHIVES: http://www.thekmfp.com/category/be-my-guest/)

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