Jana, Loretta, Rochelle and Dolores (Stories of Love and Laughter)

Following her personal story in the previous blog post, Jana handpicked a few recent stories by our seniors to put a smile on our faces - thanks Jana!

I chose these stories because I felt like they shared a similar theme of love and laughter. Stories that you most definitely could tell to your children or grandchildren years down the line.  They are precious memories we take with us. Hope you readers enjoy! – Jana

Loretta Dotson
3.12.2015
The Traveler

I love to travel. I visit so many paces almost daily. In London Big Ben was as amazing as huge. The Great Wall of China was astounding. It is extremely cold in Alaska but the fishing was great. The volcanoes in Hawaii are exciting and potentially deadly. Jamaica, Jamaica so beautiful the people pleasant and colorful and so accommodating. They love the American dollar, don’t we all?

Haiti is still struggling but still hanging in there. There are so very many places to visit and enjoy. The White House, the oval office, a spectacular room of course. Ah, Italy, great pasta, pizzelle and wine. In Germany and Switzerland beautiful chalets and mountains. But, for me, the clocks, the watches and the wrist and pendants variety are unique.

These places mentioned, you may enjoy also – just pick up a book! You can visit any place, stay as long as you like and revisit, no parking, no reservations. I’m revisiting New Orleans, the French Quarter. Perhaps I’ll see you there.

Rochelle Tynes
4.23.2015
AKA 20/20

I drew a blank and couldn’t think of anything to write about.  In fact I really started not to come but I had said in the beginning of the year that I was going to try and come every week.  So I basically gave my word, I didn’t want to go back on it so I came.

I guess I’ll just sit here and enjoy the stories that other tell today.  The stories are always so very interesting and bring to mind things that occurred during out young years.  They are often pleasant memories of people and times that have long passed but should be returned so the younger generation can have a better outlook on life to appreciate what they have and not be so anxious to have everything immediately and move on the next needed “right now thing” and to know that an education is a thing to be honored to achieve instead of taking it so lightly and leaving school.  And taking care of oneself is a goal and not someone else’s responsibility.  Anyway, I was just gonna listen.

Dolores Malone
5.21.2015
The Day I Stopped Eating Watermelon

When I was seven years old, I hardly minded where infants came from. I just cared that they were here to be played with like dolls, to be coddled and kissed. I also worried little about the origin of the adults in my world. In fact, I worried little about how people – babies, teens, adults – come to be because I had developed my own theory about their genesis.

My seven-year-old imagination, combined with Bible stories, determined that God put each fully-formed person on earth at a specific age. And those people matured from that point forward. God, for example, made mom 30-ish; Cathy, two weeks old; Uncle Jay, 40-something; my oldest sister 4; and most of my friends between 3 and 7. Adults, already old at birth, bypassed infancy, childhood and other early maturation milestones. I figured that I was actually a little over two when God made me for my parents – no matter that folks told stories about my existence before then. To put it succinctly, I theorized that God crafter humans as completely developed babies, children, or adults.

So it was that I was surprised at seven to learn that my theory of birth was flawed. I was sitting on my front steps with my sisters, a few teenagers and young adults, when I noticed a stranger, a lady walking toward my steps. I looked her up and down. I was captivated by her shiny, black hair, presumably oiled with Royal Crown Pomade before being pressed straight with a hot comb and then curled into a page-boy, with evenly-spaced finger waves complimenting her hairdo. I was also mesmerized by her bright red lipstick – the color of which “is only worn by Jezebels,” according to my Mom.

But what shocked me more than anything else about the lady with the fancy hair and painted lips was her bulging belly. I had never seen anything like it. Her stomach stuck out so far that I thought that somehow she might have been concealing something enormous like a basketball beneath her loose-fitting dress.

As the lady, who looked no more than 20, wobbled toward the group, she greeted a teenager sitting on the top step. (Neighborhood protocol dictated that the youngest children sit on the bottom steps, the oldest people on the upper ones) The lady groaned as she climbed to where her friend sat. All the while, I couldn’t take my eyes off her huge stomach. I was speechless.

Finally, when the lady was seated, I whispered to my sister, “What’s wrong with her? Why is her stomach so fat?”

“I don’t know,” my sister replied, “ask her.”

So I did. And what a shock I got. “I swallowed a watermelon seed, and now I’m gonna have a baby. It’s growing in my stomach,” the lady said.

I could hardly believe what I heard. I asked, “You mean a baby comes from a watermelon seed?”

“Yep, so don’t ever swallow one.”

Hence, on that day and for the next few years I refused to eat watermelon. I feared germinating a baby inside my wee, wee belly.    

Jana (A Volunteer's Reflections)

Jana and her Granny

Jana listening to our seniors' stories

We all know the seniors of Best Day are inspiring, but no less inspiring are the voices of volunteers who work so hard to help our seniors find their voices. Today, I have invited volunteer and my friend Jana to tell her heartwarming Best Day story!

Greetings Readers,

Let me start off by introducing myself. My name is Jana Henry. I am a group facilitator here at Best Day of My Life So Far. By day I work for an awesome church in Philadelphia and by night or any other free time I have I write. Being a writer at heart is one of the things that drew me to Best Day. Currently I and a few other facilitators have been helping with our weekly classes while Benita spends time loving on her new baby boy who is the cutest little thing ever.

I started with Best Day back in 2013. I was actually taking a stroll through social media as we often do in this day and age and I saw a peer of mine hanging out with a group of seniors. So I asked him what Best Day was all about. I had recently lost my grandmother and was yearning for a relationship like the one we had shared. What I had found is that it’s hard to replace those bonds but doors always open to make new ones. Long story short I was connected to Benita and I just jumped right in.

Best Day for me has been many things. It was a break from the hustle and bustle of school as I finished my undergraduate degree. The seniors were my cheering section when I finally finished school and a great encouragement as I searched for a full time job and thankfully found one later that year. I have enjoyed a walk through nostalgia every week as the seniors share what they write. I admire the wisdom that I have been blessed to be in a room with. I sometimes feel bad that the world doesn’t know just how awesome this program is and I make it a point to talk about our class everywhere I go.

In the recent weeks class has been a helpful reminder to slow down and live in the moment. I am grateful that Benita and the seniors have entrusted me to join in on their weekly storytelling. I feel blessed. Check out some of our blog posts and it is my hope that you may find joy to take with you throughout your day today!

-Jana

Dolores (A Character Building Ditty from the Past)

This story by Dolores is Rough and Tough! Consider yourself warned – don’t mess with Dolores and her friends ;) If Dolores’ story here reminds you of a ditty that you and your friends came up with as kids, tell us about it here: https://bestdaysofar.wufoo.com/forms/my-best-day-story/

Dolores Malone
4.16.2015
This story by Dolores is Rough and Tough! Consider yourself warned – don’t mess with Dolores and her friends ;) If Dolores’ story here reminds you of a ditty that you and your friends came up with as kids, tell us about it here: https://bestdaysofar.wufoo.com/forms/my-best-day-story/

Dolores Malone
4.16.2015
A Character Building Ditty from the Past

Many seniors remember some of the childhood ditties that helped mold them into upstanding citizens.  For the most part, adults including parents, teachers and ministers taught these ditties.  Yet, I learned some of my favorite character-building ones from peers.  I recall one such ditty – a counterintuitive one – that still creates waver of joy within me whenever I explore the past.

I was a tween then – a youngster between 10 and 12 – in the 1950’s when a group of five girlfriends about my age sat with me on the front steps of the home where I lived in a poverty-stricken, gang-ridden section of North Philadelphia.  As evening neared, we girls were bored, presumably having exhausted every game we knew.  But the newest girl in our group taught us not merely a new game, but a bonding ditty of feigned bravado.  While chanting this ditty, we six girls linked arms, puffed out our chests, and marched shoulder-to-shoulder up and down the sidewalk on my side of the block, leaving little room for passerbys and scattering like cockroaches whenever someone approached.  Loudly, in unison, we chanted:

“We are rough; we are tough.
 We are the girls who don’t take no stuff.
 If you don’t like us, you can smell our feet.
 ‘Cuz we are the girls from Berks Street.”

Contrary to what appears to be merely a gang-related chant, the singing of the Rough and Tough Ditty, along with the requisite posturing and boasting, was an exercise in character development.  While assuming a sense of false bravado to conquer the fear of gang intimidation – especially intimidation involving coercion to join one of the two rival girl gangs in the neighborhood, I learned the importance of courage, loyalty, cooperation and friendship.  Saliently, thanks to my experience then, I also learned the value of making the right choices of choosing to chant and bond with gang-free friends rather than actually join a gang, a gang of thugs.

That’s all Folks!!!  …Until next time.

Many seniors remember some of the childhood ditties that helped mold them into upstanding citizens.  For the most part, adults including parents, teachers and ministers taught these ditties.  Yet, I learned some of my favorite character-building ones from peers.  I recall one such ditty – a counterintuitive one – that still creates waver of joy within me whenever I explore the past.

I was a tween then – a youngster between 10 and 12 – in the 1950’s when a group of five girlfriends about my age sat with me on the front steps of the home where I lived in a poverty-stricken, gang-ridden section of North Philadelphia.  As evening neared, we girls were bored, presumably having exhausted every game we knew.  But the newest girl in our group taught us not merely a new game, but a bonding ditty of feigned bravado.  While chanting this ditty, we six girls linked arms, puffed out our chests, and marched shoulder-to-shoulder up and down the sidewalk on my side of the block, leaving little room for passerbys and scattering like cockroaches whenever someone approached.  Loudly, in unison, we chanted:

“We are rough; we are tough.
 We are the girls who don’t take no stuff.
 If you don’t like us, you can smell our feet.
 ‘Cuz we are the girls from Berks Street.”

Contrary to what appears to be merely a gang-related chant, the singing of the Rough and Tough Ditty, along with the requisite posturing and boasting, was an exercise in character development.  While assuming a sense of false bravado to conquer the fear of gang intimidation – especially intimidation involving coercion to join one of the two rival girl gangs in the neighborhood, I learned the importance of courage, loyalty, cooperation and friendship.  Saliently, thanks to my experience then, I also learned the value of making the right choices of choosing to chant and bond with gang-free friends rather than actually join a gang, a gang of thugs.

That’s all Folks!!!  …Until next time.

Joe (Summertime)

Who else here loves summer besides Joe?? I do, do you? How did you spend your summers growing up? If Joe’s story here reminds you of one of your own, tell us about it here: https://bestdaysofar.wufoo.com/forms/my-best-day-story/

Joe Garrison
5.28.2015
Summertime

I guess I really started enjoying summers when I was 6 years old. And it was the first time I had ever heard of Memorial Day. I went to a special boarding school for the blind where we went home on weekends. Sometimes I stayed in on weekends and one day I was listening to a song on the radio called “Cruising Down the River” on A Sunday Afternoon. Also, it was the 1st Father’s Day I remember and that stood out because it was the first cake I remember my mom making. It was a coconut and pineapple cake and she said it was a special Father’s Day cake for my dad.

Usually my summers were spent eating watermelon, playing with the neighborhood kids and going to Vacation Bible School for 2-3 weeks at the Community Center. Sometimes, on the 4th of July we’d either visit my grandmother (my grandfather’s birthday was on July the 5th) or going to the park for a picnic.

My teenage summers weren’t that memorable. The most memorable summers after that was when I was 20 and 21, volunteering at a work camp to remodel the community center. I even painted a house. And there were activities for all the kids there, like lawn games and basketball, baseball and badminton. Even though some of my summers weren’t especially memorable, summer is my favorite time of the year.

Summers are always beautiful to me.

Hazel (Welcome Oldies)

To ease into the summer weekend, how about some oldies? Turn up some oldies on your computer, or your vintage record player if you are cool enough to own one ;) to read this to get into the mood! Do you have a favorite oldie or a memory related to a special oldie? Tell us about it here: https://bestdaysofar.wufoo.com/forms/my-best-day-story/

Hazel Nurse
4.23.2015
Welcome Oldies

Years ago after a long day at work and a demanding time fixing dinner and attending to the needs of my family, I was happy to relax at last.

Whether it meant winding up the Victrola inherited from mom and dad or just putting a “forty-five” in our record player later, music did the trick. Songs like “Dock of the Bay,” “You Made Me Love You,” or “Why Do You Treat Me Like You Do?” will forever remain with me.

However with the strides made in new technology, I can enjoy “For Sentimental Reasons” and many old songs formerly recorded by Billy Eckstine, Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole and others by switching on Channels 447 and 446 without changing a record or fixing a broken needle. That is just one of the gifts of being around this long. To continue to close my eyes and review the world of music.

Brenda (A Look in the Rearview Mirror)

In the last few blog posts, I’ve had fun celebrating some current milestones with you! Inspired by Brenda’s story here, what do you say about switching gears here and going down memory lane together for a little bit? Stay tuned – in the next blog posts I will share a few stories by our seniors about past moments and choices. Are there any past moments or choices in your life that Brenda's story has reminded you of? Tell us about it here: https://bestdaysofar.wufoo.com/forms/my-best-day-story/

Brenda Scantlebury
4.23.2015
A Look In The Rearview Mirror

Taking a look in the rearview mirror can sometimes jog your memory of what has happened in your life. This look may either bring joy or sadness. Happy days in times past or thoughts that can bring a tear to the eye. Hopefully –

Your look in the rearview mirror will bring joy to your heart and life! Maybe you will see yourself sliding down the sliding board at the park or swinging high up toward the trees. You might recall a ride on the merry-go-round or carousel… Whee….ee! You might even see yourself at Graduation, walking up to the platform to receive your diploma! Maybe you'll remember that first crush, that first- kiss! You also may see yourself walking down the middle aisle at the church, being a bride or a groom-to get married! Dancing and rejoicing! Whatever the event was – take note of it and let it remind you of what you learned from that experience and how it brought change – how it has helped your life!

Hattie (A Night to Remember)

Let’s keep the party spirit flowing! Happy 82nd birthday to our bud Hattie who's been a part of our group since its very first day - the first birthday we celebrated of hers was her 77th, back in May 2010!

Hattie Ellerbe
5.28.2015
A Night to Remember

All week long, my daughter and granddaughter were getting me ready for my birthday. This would be my 82nd year. They wanted it to be special!

We were going to one of my favorite restaurants on Sunday. On Saturday we were going to a luncheon and fashion show. They wanted me to look “just right.” They got me a new “hair-do”…got my eyebrows arched… bought me couple of new outfits and seemed to be satisfied with their purchases.

On Saturday, Karen came to pick me up to go. We had to stop by and pick up her Godmother Yvonne, who was going with us. As usual, we had to wait for Yvonne because the building was having a demonstration and it was almost over. We had to go in and wait for her.

As we got to her community room, the door was opened and it seemed like everyone I have ever known in my life yelled, “SURPRISE.”

It is the end of the month.

I am still in shock.

Thanks to my wonderful daughter Karen and granddaughter Wanda for a most memorable time. I am still in shock. I love you so much.

Hello, Big Beautiful World!

(Hey Readers! Hope it's ok with you if I use this space today to write a little note to my senior buds, so they can see this in time for their group session tomorrow! I will be back here as usual to share more of their stories with you in upcoming blog posts!)

Dear Senior Buds,

Thank you again for the phenomenal surprise baby shower you threw me the last time I attended the group before my maternity leave. I can’t even tell you how moved and SURPRISED I was. I am excited to let you know that my baby was born last week, and I can’t wait for you to meet him. His name is Jett and I like to call him Mr. Jett because he is such an old soul – must be from the nine whole months he spent listening to your stories ;) His eyes are sincere and alert, and he seems to like jazz and spa music more than typical baby lullabies, ha!

One of the most amazing things in the past week is to watch my elder son, 21-month-old Kian, grow into his shoes as Big Brother. At first, he was curious about Little Brother but not quite sure what to do. Then day by day, you can see him open his big heart some more, to a point that I can now fully say he loves his little brother. I know, because he has started handing his favorite books to Jett to read, and covering Jett’s arms with stickers – you have to really impress Kian to even earn a single sticker, so I would think Jett passed the sticker test. Kian also likes to walk by the bassinet when Jett is napping to check on him, stopping to wave and smile and give a gentle kiss, not realizing I am usually watching. As you can tell, I am loving being a new mom of two, and it makes me want to be a better parent than ever before.

As I think about what kind of parent I aspire to be, I think about everything you have taught me. And I want you to know, beyond the most classic bedtime stories or the latest animation movies, yours are the stories that I want my boys to hear. Guided by your voices, I know I can show them that life is not always happy and not always sad, but when you add the happy times and rough patches together, what you get is a big, beautiful world.

Have tons of fun with Jana, Cassie, Rachel while I am on break, and keep those words of wisdom coming – my boys and I and all our readers are listening and cheering you on! In the coming weeks, I will continue to read your stories as volunteers send them to me, and I will continue to share them with our readers here online.

Love, Benita