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Heaven is Real

But first.....let's talk about this life for a few minutes.

I've had three, physical therapy visits this month. I won't go into the gory details on how much fun they aren't. I think I've mentioned my first one and I don't care to revisit that horror.

However, on my second visit I was told I was walking wrong. Did you know you can walk wrong? Apparently you can. And I am. Was. Let me explain.

When you injure your leg and/or knee, your body doesn't want to hurt any more. Smart body. In order to not hurt when you walk, your body automatically makes changes in how you walk in order to avoid pain. Avoiding pain is good. I like avoiding pain. In fact my body likes avoiding pain to the point that it's made me walk wrong.

This means I have to learn to walk the RIGHT way again. You might think this would be an easy task. I mean, I've been walking correctly for the better part of half a century. I should know how to do this.


My left leg has been turning out in order to avoid pain when walking. Now I have to train it to walk straight. I thought I was. I wasn't. See how this works? Yeah, me neither.

Now when I walk, it feels like my left foot is turned in at a 90 degree angle. That's what it feels like. What it looks like, is, um, straight. Each step I take is a conscious act. My brain says I'm turning my foot in at such an angle that I must be walking with my left toes pointing directly at my right foot. Not so. They are simply pointing straight forward, as they should be.

My leg is not happy about this turn (ha, see what I did there?) of events. Not happy at all. It hurts. It hurts a lot and I walk like a zombie. Not like an Egyptian, which would be a lot more fun, but like a zombie. Stomp, lurch, repeat. The cane helps me stay upright but I think I lose zombie cred for using it.

Now, about heaven being real. I think I set a new land speed record for purchasing a book on my Kindle and reading it. I saw a news article about this little boy in Nebraska who says he visited heaven when he was gravely ill. His name is Colton. I saw the video on him, grabbed my Kindle, bought the book and read it in a couple of hours.

I've always known heaven was real, and this little guy's experience reinforces that faith I have in what the future holds. If you get the chance, you should read his story. Life is good, but I'm sure that heaven is a whole lot gooder.

It is too a real word!


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Thank You

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Had I only first read
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I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
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