Posted by: namesconnie | January 13, 2015

Free

She woke up in the morning by herself
without anyone else’s moods or thoughts.
She could be herself now and not worry about a significant other.

When she woke up, it didn’t matter if her hair was messy,
or her breath wasn’t unrealistically minty fresh –
she didn’t have to worry about that.

At night,
she got the whole room and whole bed to herself.
She could read or watch anything on TV she wanted to
before she fell asleep,
and she didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone.

Her life finally was really all her own
to do with as she pleased.
She could come and go without conferring with anyone –
freedom at its best.

Her meals were all to “her” liking;
Not having to people please anyone but herself.

So if she ever started to think,
she needed to be in a relationship again,
she would remember she didn’t “need” to be,
Because on her own she got to hog all the blankets;
she got to watch whatever movie she wanted to at the show;
she got to wake up in peace and serenity;
she got to go for long walks alone enjoying nature;
she got to be her true self more;
Than when she was a prisoner with him.

So don’t worry about her being single.
She is okay as she is, until she finds someone who is okay allowing her to be her and

Free!

Posted by: namesconnie | January 12, 2015

If Gus Could Talk

Please take me to my home,

I miss my Master so much;

I miss his smiling face,

I miss his gentle touch.

Please take me home,

Something has gone wrong;

I got away from my Master,

Now I have been gone too long.

Please take me home,

Even if you think I am sweet;

I have another best friend,

I really need to greet.

Please take me home,

I’m just a little dog that’s lost;

I need you to help me get there,

Don’t worry about the cost.

Please take me home,

A reward you will find;

When my Master jumps with glee,

From you being so kind.

Please take me home,

Even if you really love me;

But I have to get to him,

To end his and my misery.

You see we love each other so,

We are the best friends ever;

He was so good to me,

And would never hurt me never.

He just wants me home with him,

To enjoy our daily walks;

To enjoy our TV times,

To enjoy our daily talks.

You see he is now 77 years old,

Not sure how long he has left to live;

And I am just a young dog,

I have so much love to give.

I want to be with him,

Through many more happy days;

So please take me home,

We will thank you in many ways.

The first way will be when you see our faces,

Light up when we are reunited;

The second way is when you see our love,

Equally undivided.

Yes, there will be a reward for you,

But it won’t compare to the reward for us;

To be again together,

An old man and his little doggie, Gus.

By, Connie Webb

Posted by: namesconnie | January 10, 2015

How It Made Her Feel, But The Truth Of It All

Like she was a nothing.
Like she was ugly.
Like she was worthless.
Like she was not worth rescuing.
Like God hated her.
Like she would rather have died.
Like she wanted to disappear.
Like she wished she was stronger.
Like she wished she could have escaped.
Like she deserved it.
Like she asked for it.
Like she was stupid.
Like no one will believe her.
Like she was at fault.
Like she was the one who made it happen.
Like others will think she liked it and wanted it.

The Truth:
He was a nothing.
He was ugly.
He was worthless.
He was not worth being on the planet.
Even God hated him.
He deserved to not live.
He ought to disappear from earth never to be seen again.
He really was a weakling to harm an innocent woman.
Only a horrible devil-like person would trap someone and degrade them like that and it wasn’t her fault.
He deserved severe punishment for what he did.
Her “no” was “no” and she didn’t ask for it.
She was smart and survived and one day he will pay somehow, no harm ever goes without punishment.
She is to be BELIEVED!
He is fully at fault.
He made it happen.
She never liked it and never wanted it.
HE IS TO BLAME.

One day he will pay – somehow!

And she won’t have to do anything
except wait and see;
that is just how the universe works
and she sleeps well at night
just knowing that fact.

Posted by: namesconnie | January 10, 2015

When I Hear They Don’t Like Their Mom

When I hear they don’t like their mom,

it kind of makes me cringe,

because there will always be that day

when they will wish they spent more time with her.

 

They will wish to hear her laugh,

see her smile,

feel her warm hug,

And they won’t even care about

that red lipstick she always placed on their cheek

that they would quickly wipe away.

 

They will wish to hear another one of her stories,

learn more about family history,

hear how she coped through some trying times.

 

There will come that day,

when they wish they never even thought

of not liking their mom.

 

When I hear they don’t like their mom,

I want to scream –

Don’t believe your lie!

You really do love her!

Give her a call.

Be patient with her.

Be tolerant of her.

Tell her all the nice things you know a mother would love to hear.

And remember,

no matter how much you don’t like her,

she will always love you,

even if you don’t think she does,

and that is lots to be grateful for!

 

When I hear they don’t like their mom,

it kind of makes me cringe,

because there will always be that day

when they will wish they spent more time with her.

Posted by: namesconnie | January 10, 2015

Critical You

You can criticize all you want.

State all that is wrong with me;

perhaps that is the only way you can feel superior.

So go ahead and keep criticizing

all you think is wrong with me.

 

I will just accept that you are critical

and I will not allow your criticism of me

to take away who I am.

I will continue to know

That the one who needs to change,

Has never really been me,

But critical you!

– By, Connie Webb

Posted by: namesconnie | January 8, 2015

Where I Got My Courage

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Mom left my alcoholic dad for good.
She loaded up four kids, a dog and two cats
into her station wagon.
We drove from New York to Florida
– a three day trip,
never to return to him, even with a fifth baby born.

This was in the sixties –
a courageous act that mostly was looked down upon.
How dare a woman leave her man like that!
With divorce,
Mom had to sit out taking communion at church –
a weekly shame on her.

She had to endure long waits in welfare offices,
with all us kids getting antsy from the wait.
She didn’t have money for babysitters, most of the time.
Again she felt hurt and shame from her dire straits,
but even through many nights of crying,
her courage helped her continue on.

I left my alcoholic husband for good.
Left with my two kids.
Drove up the California coast with a brother and his family
– a thirteen hour trip,
never to return to him.
Spent years as a single mom –
welfare, food bank lines,
my shame of poverty!
But whenever I felt it was just too hard to go on,
I remembered my mom’s courage
and that gave me the strength to continue on.

Years later, the kids are grown,
and I look back at all that was accomplished.
I treasure the love the kids and I share and it all started with me witnessing courage,
from a mom who got things done,
even when it seemed most difficult.
Mom, thanks for the courage!

Artwork and Poem by, Connie Webb

Posted by: namesconnie | January 8, 2015

Discouraged, Then Encouraged

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Discouraged, Then Encouraged

Hadn’t been to church in years,
Decided to give it a try.

It wasn’t a Sunday,
But I went in and knelt down to say a prayer.

My life was difficult and discouraging.
I was young and poor and didn’t see much light ahead.

No one was in the church,
But then a lady came by and knelt down beside me.

She asked me if I would like to visit for lunch at her place.
I said “sure” and felt a brightness and warmth.

We talked for a long time, her and I.
She told me she was going to Italy soon.
I told her my Grandpa was from there.
She asked for my address and said she would mail me a postcard.

I didn’t see this lady again,
But at just the moment I needed some more encouragement,
A postcard from Italy arrived.
I treasure that inspiring visit with her
And remember her encouragement to just stay strong during tough times.

Whenever I need a lift, I remember her light.

Artwork and Writing By, Connie Webb

Posted by: namesconnie | January 8, 2015

The Day I Stopped Loving You

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There came a moment in time,
When my mind just said,
I don’t love you anymore.

It just hit me in that one moment,
Not the moment you hit me;
Not the moment’s you put me down;
Not the moment’s you made me cry;
But just a moment in time,
When I found myself thinking,
I don’t love him anymore.

And I knew that your flowers,
Your “I love you’s”;
Your beautiful cards that I never got before;
Could never change that moment in time;
When I discovered,
I just didn’t love you anymore.

I am thankful for that moment in time,
That woke me up to the fact,
That I no longer deserved abuse;
But I just had to have that moment,
That helped me to leave you;
Which was the moment I fell out of love with you;
After years of being in love through many tough times.

For anyone abused,
I wish you that moment in time;
When you fall out of love,
In order to get your life back!

Artwork and Poem by, Connie Webb

Posted by: namesconnie | October 20, 2014

In Memory of You

You motivated me with inspiring words and actions,

That made me want to do better in my life.

Just seeing you cheered me up.

I feel lucky to have known you.

Though you are gone,

You will always hold a dear place in my heart and mind.

-By, Connie Webb

In memory of one of my most treasured friends who passed away in the month of October.

Posted by: namesconnie | October 6, 2014

A Disability Called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

You can’t just look at me

And say to yourself

She’s disabled.

My disability is invisible,

But it is always here,

Even if I try to hide it,

From you.

It has a label of

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

And it doesn’t always appear

Even to me.

But there are times late at night

When I have wondered

“Did I lock the front door?”

“What was that sound?”

And I tremble in fear

Not acting to check anything out.

Then there are times

I am just paranoid

For no good reason at all,

And I try to talk myself out of it

But it doesn’t work,

Most of the time

Until it just somehow passes.

And the next day

I wonder what that was all about

As I calmly face my day.

There are times

When I could be like the most efficient person of all

Getting many things done in just one day,

But then there are those other times

When I am lucky to just take care of my basic needs

Not going anywhere or doing much of anything.

I have been lucky enough

To have had therapy for years

And still am in therapy

As they really have no cure

For this invisible thing

Called PTSD.

And sometimes I wonder

If the haunting memories

Were to be played out to the public

If there would be more awareness

Of what it is really like to have this

Happen in your mind

Over and over again.

Maybe while doing your dishes

Or while taking a walk

Or while even looking at the ocean

And flashbacks

Of times you never want to remember

Haunting scenes of abuse and violence

Other scenes of places you could not escape

And had to suffer the pain

Times guns were pulled on you

Times knives were held to your neck

Come back vividly and in living color

Relived over and over again

Traumatizing you over and over again.

I have tried various methods to lesson the pains

I do know I have improved somewhat

But still

I have a disability

That you can not see

But I hope somehow

I have shown you

A little of it.

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