How would you feel if someone told you that a love one that was close to you has only a matter of days to live? Would you cry? Or would you shout? Would you comfort that person who is going to die? Telling them that everything is going to be all right; but knowing in the back of your mind that there's nothing you can do about it. Telling them all the things you've never said, taking back all the things you never ment. Wanting to counsel them in there time need. People who know there going to die, seem to take it alot better then most. There only worry is about the people they leave behind. Especially if it is a mother and her child. I watched my grandmother die. I handled it better than I thought I would. Last friday, she was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Terminal. In all the 3 years she has been in and out of the hospital for her lungs and not one doctor has ever seen the cancer. When my mom told me that she was sick, I came down on sunday. Me and my mom stayed at the hospital sunday and monday night so she wouldn't be alone. Tuesday morning around 1 am she was asking me were is everyone(now prior to this she could barely stay awake, let alone talking to people). I told her they went home and she ask why. I told her because they were going to bed and that Tanya(her favorite daughter) was there. She said they should have stayed. By then I was crying because I new she was going to die. I t said that right before the person dies they awaken with a jolt of energy to say goodbye to there love ones. So I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me too and said her chest was hurting(she never had pain the entire time she was there). I told her I was going to get a nurse, but she didn't want me to leave her on her own so I pushed one of the buttons and a nurse came and gave her the medicine. Tuesday when we got her to my uncles house, the stuff that she needed was not there. So when we got everything and gave her her medicine she went to sleep. Everyone one went there separate ways but something told me to stay with her in her room, so I did. I was dozing off in the chair when my cousin told me to wake her up cause her friend was here to see her. But as soon as I saw her, I new she was going. At 5:55pm my cousin and I saw her take her last breathe. My cousin took it alot harder then I thought he would. But for me I took it alot better because before I came down I new she was going to die before the end of the week. I didn't know how but I just knew and that's why I was preparing myself for the worse. I think what got me is the rush. That we didn't have time to adjust to the fact that she was going to die or the fact that she didn't adjust, she just....died. To see her die still haunts me. To stay at her house and see her clothes and smell her scent, is a stab in the heart. I opened her closet and saw all her clothes. I started to cry because it was a reminder that she was really gone. I new that one day my grandmother would die. I think I just wasn't ready. I was hoping that I would have more time. I wanted her to see me get married and maybe have some kids(even though I said I wouldn't) and get my bachelors in college. My only regret is not spending enough time with her. But then again time is all we have. The little moments that we have are all that matters and should be taken advantage of because they will never happen again. It made me realize that life is too short and we should live today like we'll die tomorrow. But in some cases we will die tomorrow.

So I ask again, when death comes knocking at your door, do you answer? Yes. You invite him in and offer him tea and cookies. And hope with every ending there is a new beginning.

So this promt was intresting and a bit fun.When I first thought of the word Spicy, I thought of food. But spicy doesn't always have to be food. So then, the word "sashay" came to mind. So I looked it up on Dictionary.com, and this is what it means:
1. to glide, move, or proceed easily or nonchalantly: She just sashayed in as if she owned the place.

That one sentence, She just sashayed in as if she owned the place, just made the poem pop into my head. Go figure!

Spicy
Hot
Señorita
I tip my hat off to you.
The way you move
Dance
Drives men wild
Every man wants you
Every women wants to be you.
Spicy
Hot
Señorita
I dedicate this song to you.

i stand on the beach
watching the tides come in and out
hoping
praying
that it will wash away my tears

Second Chances..... hmmm..... This prompt is hard. I rarely give second chances. Mostly because I have a hard time trusting people in the first place. So when someone betrays my trust, thats it. Theres no second chances.

But if I had a second chance at life, would I do it over? Probably not. The road that I've walked(though hard) took me down roads, up hills, across oceans. Meeting new faces, seeing new places; is what my life brought to me. So if you know me well, you'll probably ask, "But you were raped, molested, and abused. Wouldn't you want to change that?" Though that road was a torment to walk down, I still wouldn't change anything. Going through things like that has brought me to places I probably wouldn't have been and met people I probably wouldn't have met. My feet may have been weak and my faith gone, but something help me walk that path. So for me I would not change anything in my life.

For Sunday Scribblings

To show the deepest, darkest side of me
would be like the moon covering the sun.
Complete eclisp of day to night.
Everything whithering away, dying;
deepest, darkest dark.

To tell the deepest, darkest side of me
would be the end of you.
Telling you my deep dark secrects, you can not handle.
You would wither away in horror,
knowing that im not so innocent,
the I'm not the happy girl,
the being nice to everyone girl you thought me to be.
To know that, to me, there are two sides;
the outter, lighter layer
and the deepest, darkest.

-----
This past weekend has been a bit of an awakening for me. It really opened my eyes to how I see my family and how I see myself. So I finally figured out why I was so hungry last week. It was insane. I was always hungery(more so than usaule). My mom said it was because I was avoiding something. So while I was in the shower(which by the way is very good time for thinking) It finally hit me, I was jealous of my friend. I don't really know why I am jealous, I just am. I mean he's in a two year engagedment and they just stated dating last xmas. So whats there to be jealous of? Anywho,after I admit that to myself my hunger went back to normal. Strange isn't it? How when you admit something you've been denying or uncousiously denying all is right with the world again.

I've learned that family is not always there when you need them the most. That they don't protect you from outsiders, but in fact hurt you the most. Destroying your name over some gossip that is far from the truth. It is sad to relize you can't rely on you family. That you have to live far away from them in order to have a piece of mind. Sad to say my family is this way. Whatever mastake you made they rumb it in you face. Whatever guy you fall for and get over they rumb it in your face and spread lies about you. My uncle is supposed to protect his sisters, yet he talks about them and hangs out with there boyfriends; knowing full well that they beat his sisters. When my aunt was dying and to weak to stand up, she asked her boyfriend can he cook her some food. Do you know what he did? He threw her a few dollars and told her to call for take out! How can you say this to someone you supposly love? My uncle knows this, yet he does nothing. His way of doing something is "talking" to them. Same with his daughter. He knows that her baby father use to stalk her and practicly rape her and she told him this. Yet he still let the guy come over his house after having a "talk" with him. And he wonders why my mom doesn't like being around him.

My father is another matter all together. He's not a very nice person to be around. I never relized how mean he was untill I started living with him. When I was young I use to be a daddys girl. I truely loved him. But with time, age, and my wicked stepmother; my feeling towards him changed. My mother would protect me from his harsh tones and vile words. And I remember after everytime she would talk to him she would cry. I felt her pain more than she'll ever know. But now that I'm living with him, I relized I may have been in deniale about who he truely is. I belived that( or didn't want to belive that) someone who says they love you shouldn't treate you like you were a stranger out on the street. Through the arguments, him throwing me out of his house when I was eight, and the constent battel with him and my mother; I still believe that if someone loves you he wouldn't say mean things to hurt you. After all your his daughter. He's supposed to protect you, not hurt you. And as I stay here for my last semester, I relize that my father isn't a nice person at all. Yes to people at his job, but not to his own family. Not to the people who should matter the most. I wonder what made him this way? What made him so untrustworthy and so cold hearted that he would do this to his own daughter? Maybe one day I'll ask him.....