Friday, September 25, 2015

Greta and Amber (The Best Day of My Life So Far)

The best day of my life so far is every time a senior or a visitor shares that our time together is the best day, or a highlight, of their lives. Cheers, everyone! Let the good vibes go on and on! Want to read more about my inspiration for calling our storytelling groups “The Best Day of My Life So Far?” Check it out here: and drop me a note at to share how our time together here, virtually, feels to you. I hope you are enjoying it here because I really do love hanging out with you ;)

Greta Adams
The Best Day of My Life So Far

The Best Day of My Life so Far is any Thursday that I can attend the writing class and can remember something worthy of sharing with the class. I also enjoy seeing the other members of the class and hearing their stories and sometimes getting to see the son of our teacher, who was born during the time I have been in the writing class. He acts like he is a member of the class, he blends right in with us at such a young age.

During the summer, I am away a lot. I will be attending a relative's 100th birthday celebration, August 22, 2015. I am looking forward to that. It should be quite exciting – an out-of-town family reunion.

Amber Nelson, Visitor
Thank You

Thank you all for allowing me to sit in and write with you. Visiting this storytelling class weekly has been one of the highlights of my summer. Your stories have inspired me to write more and to encourage others (my second grade students, my family members, etc.) to write as well. You've made me laugh and made me think and most of all showed me that everyone has an important story to share. Oh, and special thanks to Ms. Frances for donating books to my classroom. I'm excited to see how the young readers grow as a result of your generosity.

With school starting, I'm not sure when I'll be able to hang out with you all again, but I'm truly grateful for this experience.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Loretta, Joan, Brenda (When I Was a Little Girl)

Today, we celebrate childhood in all its complexity: happy, funny, but also at times confusing or sad. May the good memories last a lifetime. May the funny memories make us laugh as hard as we used to as children. May the bad memories make us stronger every time we relive them!

Loretta Gaither
When I Was a Little Girl

I used to stutter. I went to a special ed class for my stuttering. I could read and write, but my mother didn't want me to read or write. She didn't want to pay for special ed classes and wanted to keep the money my father gave me for her own expenses. That's the reason I got married young – to have a better life. I didn't. My husband got killed by drugs. I got a job doing the laundry for a hotel, but God showed me I could do more. I made a better life for myself by drawing, acting, sewing, making artwork like a wooden shoe covered with flowers, and being here, telling my stories. I love this writing group. May God bless the people in the writing group and at the senior center and everyone reading my stories.

Joan Bunting
Music in my Bones

I just left the closing of the Senior Center Choir’s get together/luncheon/brunch/whatever for the summer. While we were brunching or whatever the subject of singing at the table was brought up. We all agreed that singing at the table was bad manners. I think the subject came up because while I was eating I was singing along with the smart phone that someone had placed on the table next to where I was sitting. They weren’t just any songs, they were gospel songs.

It was then mentioned about how we were coming up as children. Not only were we not allowed to sing at the table, but in some situations we were not allowed to even talk at the kitchen table. When I was a young girl, I’d better not sing at the table. Accept when my sister Doris and I were moved to be joined with our three other siblings, and it would be just the children at the table, and we were allowed to talk with one another. Of my siblings, I was the most talkative one and had to be told to shut my mouth.

I’ve always loved music, and now as an adult whenever I hear music even while I’m eating I have the tendency to sing or hum. And if I don’t know the words to a song I’m either humming, rocking, or tapping my feet. (note I said feet not foot) Music is just in my bones.

Brenda Scantlebury

I often think of the times of my childhood days, when children had fun really playing. I remember when I, my brothers, cousins and friends used to build things. I remember when we used to build go-carts. What we would do was find, or go to a grocery store and ask for crates. Then we would find old pieces of boards. For whatever reason there were always some around. We had a lot of empty lots in the hood. A lot came from abandoned buildings. In my time when I was growing up skates were almost a must as a youngster. If you didn’t have any or too much to play with, the first thing to have for fun was a pair of skates. We would take one of the skates, or both If needed, and take the skate apart. We also needed nails. We would take the crate and nail it on a tall piece of board, then nail another piece of board on the bottom of the crate. We would nail the skate that was taken apart in two pieces; one up front then one in back of the bottom board. And then we had our go-cart. It was so much fun. When I look back I can see how smart and creative I was.

Monday, September 7, 2015

Joe (I See with My Ears)

I was texting with one of my awesome co-facilitators Jana this week and thanking her for not 1, not 2, but the gazillion things she does for our seniors and our team (including organizing our first inter-group volunteer mixer this weekend which I am super super excited about!!) She texted me back in typical Jana fashion, "Lol no problem, you treat people how you want to be treated :)" I just want to share that to say that Best Day is nothing without my fearless, selfless army of volunteers, and to say that our seniors' bottomless wisdom may just be rubbing off on our volunteers ;) Jana's note reminds me of Joe's recent story. Let's really start to treat each other like we want to be treated.

Joe Garrison
I See With My Ears

A few years ago, I told a story called "Vision," once again, I feel the need to share my feelings about language as it pertains to being sightless. There are still people who think that a sightless or blind person should never use words like see, watch, or saw. A few days ago, I asked if I could watch a certain television program. My roommate is always reminding me that I can't see or that I have no vision. It offends me. I feel as though I function very well in the sighted world. I do the best I can. I find nothing wrong with saying I watch television or I saw so and so yesterday, or, it's good to see you. To me, it is a normal patter of speech. I believe that if I am in your presence, I see you. If I witnessed something, I saw it. I have expressed before that the word "see" also means understand or observe. And you do not need eyes to understand or observe. My ears are my eyes. I don't feel as though I have to change my way of speaking. To me, hearing is seeing, and there are countless blind people who think that way. I feel hurt when I am called crazy or stupid when people don't understand why I see things this way. This is my final word on this subject.

Click here to revisit Joe’s story, “Vision,” and a brilliant story sharing the same title by a special young lady, Olivia.