Tag: Life&#8217;s Alphabet

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

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Sixteen-year-old Natalie’s grandmother, suffering from dementia and confined to a wheelchair, lives in a nursing home and rarely recognizes Natalie. But one Halloween night, she tells her a shocking secret that only she and Natalie’s mother know. Natalie is the product of a one-night stand between her mother, who is a college English teacher, and another professor.

After some research, Natalie learns that people with dementia often have vivid memories of past events. Still not wanting to believe what her grandmother has told her, she finds her biological father online. The resemblance between them is undeniable. Not knowing what else to do, she shows his photo and website to her parents.

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

Her younger sister, Sarah, senses their parents’ marital difficulties. At Thanksgiving, when she has an opportunity to see Santa Claus, she asks him to bring them together again. Can the jolly old elf grant her request?

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P Is for Prom #TuesdayTidbit #Life’s Alphabet #Poetry

My senior prom was memorable and unusual, as evidenced by the following poem. You can click on the title to hear me read it.

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Yellow Prom Memories

A long yellow skirt and yellow blouse with three-quarter-inch sleeves

I wore to my senior prom in 1980.

Dad reluctantly agreed to be my date,

as no boy asked me, and I had no courage to ask a boy.

I don’t remember the color of Dad’s suit

or the corsage and boutonniere Mother ordered.

I do recall Dad and me dancing,

me taking off my garter,

placing it on Dad’s arm,

him immediately removing it, embarrassed,

the picture taken of the two of us

that Grandma displayed in her music room for years.

Dad and Grandma are gone.

Who knows what happened to the yellow skirt and blouse,

the flowers, the garter, the photo,

but the memories remain.

***

What do you remember about your senior prom? Please share in the comment field below.

Thanks to beetleypete for inspiring my Life’s Alphabet series with a similar one of his that he posted on his blog last December. Every day, he wrote about a different aspect of his life, using words starting with consecutive letters of the alphabet. Mine is a weekly series, and this week’s letter is P. Thank you for reading.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Photo Resize and Description by

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

M is for Macaroni and Cheese #TuesdayTidbit #Life’sAlphabet #Inspiration

Macaroni and cheese was one of my favorite meals as a kid, and I still love it today. When I was growing up, my mother used the boxed variety and added canned Vienna sausages. To this child’s tastebuds, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t homemade. It was still good, and I always looked forward to and enjoyed eating it.

As a single adult, I often bought Stouffer’s frozen macaroni and cheese. I don’t know why I didn’t add Vienna sausages to it, but it still tasted good without it.

My late husband Bill made macaroni and cheese from scratch by boiling macaroni and adding several kinds of cheese, and it was the best I’d tasted. He also introduced me to Schwan’s frozen macaroni and cheese, and it was pretty good.

After he suffered two paralyzing strokes and could no longer cook, I tried making macaroni and cheese the way he did. I even added Vienna sausages, which he liked. But it didn’t taste the same as his, Schwan’s, Stouffer’s or Mother’s.

Now that he’s gone, I rarely cook but instead receive home-delivered meals from the senior center. They don’t often have macaroni and cheese, probably because it’s not that healthful. Although I try to watch what I eat, maybe once in a while, I’ll treat myself to Stouffer’s.

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Thanks to BeetleyPete for inspiring my Life’s Alphabet series with a similar one of his own he posted last December, in which he wrote daily about his life, using consecutive letters of the alphabet.

I was also inspired to write about macaroni and cheese by one of last week’s ACB Presents the Daily Schedule calls, in which we were asked about a favorite food as a child that we still love today.
You don’t need to be a member of the American Council of the Blind to participate in ACB Community calls. They have a variety of programs on Zoom and Clubhouse, some of which are broadcast on ACB Media. For more information, send an email to: comunity@acb.org and request the daily schedule. Be sure to include your name and email address in your message because, believe it or not, humans handle this email list.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Photo Resize and Description by

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

L is for Lunch #TuesdayTidbit #Life’sAlphabet #Inspiration

Thanks to BeetleyPete for inspiring my Life’s Alphabet series with a similar one of his own, which he posted on his blog last December. Every day, he wrote about an aspect of his life, using a consecutive letter of the alphabet. In my weekly series, today’s letter is L.

I was inspired to write the following poem from How to Build a Better Mousetrap several years ago during a poetry workshop. We were prompted to write about being inside something. It was close to lunchtime, and I was hungry. I could hear the caterers in the other room, setting up the buffet. Since I couldn’t smell any hot food, I assumed we’d have a cold lunch. Hence, this poem, which you can hear me read by clicking on the title.

Inside A Sandwich

by Abbie Johnson Taylor

Lunchmeat, cheese, lettuce, onions,

tomatoes, mayonnaise abound.

When that’s all gone, there’s only bread.

In the absence of dough, there’s nothing but hunger.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

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Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***

H is for Husband #TuesdayTidbit #Life’sAlphabet #Inspiration

Thanks to BeetleyPete for inspiring this series with one of his own he posted in December of last year, in which he wrote every day about his life, using consecutive letters of the alphabet. This week’s letter is H.

When I met my late husband, I was in my forties, and he was in his sixties. I hadn’t been in a relationship before and was content to remain single for the rest of my life, figuring it was better to never love than to love and be cheated on or abused.

Then, along came Bill. At the time, I was living in Sheridan, Wyoming, where I’m still living now. Bill lived in Fowler, Colorado.

In 2003, we met through Newsreel, an audio magazine where blind and visually impaired adults share ideas, music, poetry, etc. I posed a question about computers. Bill, having built and sold computers for twenty years, emailed me an answer. I wrote him back, and that’s how it started.

For the next couple of years, we corresponded several times a day by email and by phone once or twice a week. My father and I visited Bill in Fowler on our way to New Mexico to see relatives. Finally, in January of 2005, I received the shock of my life, a letter in the mail in Braille from Bill, asking me to marry him.

All this time, I thought he just wanted to be friends. But as I found out later, he’d been dropping subtle hints that hadn’t registered. When Dad and I had visited him the previous Christmas, for example, Bill had suggested we kiss under the mistletoe, but I’d thought he was joking.

Bill had proposed to other women before me and had been rejected. It had taken him six months to work up the courage to ask me to marry him because he didn’t want to face yet another rejection.

Well, he almost did. Taken completely by surprise, I didn’t think I wanted to be his wife. It took a couple of months and a visit from him with an official proposal, including a ring and necklace before I finally realized, for no reason I could fathom, that I loved him.

Bill moved to Sheridan, and we were married in September of 2005 in my grandmother’s back yard. Three months later, our lives changed again. Bill suffered the first of two strokes that paralyzed his left side. He spent nine months in the nursing home where I’d worked for fifteen years as a registered music therapist. In September of 2006, when I brought him home, he was in a wheelchair. We both hoped he’d eventually get back on his feet with the help of outpatient physical therapy.

But in January of 2007, almost a year to the day of his first stroke, he suffered a second one. It wasn’t as severe, but it was enough to set him back to the point that he would never walk again. I cared for him at home, most of the time, until he passed in October of 2012.

You can read the story of how I met, married, and cared for Bill in My Ideal Partner. This is a memoir containing a poem at the end of each chapter. I leave you now with one such poem. You can click on the title to hear me read it.

BILL’S HANDS

Soft, gentle, they caressed me,

once milked cows, fed livestock, gathered eggs,

tapped computer keys in a busy office,

glided across Braille pages,

placed a ring on my finger, as he said, “I do.”

When one hand no longer worked,

the other did what it could.

Now they’re both gone

but will be remembered.

Photo Courtesy of Tess Anderson Photography

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Note that I’ll no longer post my Joyous Jotting series here. So, if you like reading about my life from the perspective of my robotic cat, please subscribe to my newsletter. Starting next month, that’s the only place you’ll find this feature.

New! Why Grandma Doesn’t Know Me

Independently published with the help of DLD Books.

Photo Resize and Description by

Natalie realizes she has some growing up to do. Scared and confused, she reaches out to her biological father, and they start corresponding.

***