SATURDAY MORNING -Memoir

 

SATURDAY MORNING -Memoir 

Saturday morning, before the weekday alarm usually goes off, we magically wake to watch morning cartoons. Not once during the school week do we possess the skill of self-awaking, and neither do we for Sunday morning church. But on Saturday, the internal clock rings so we can watch our cartoons.

Bowls of cereal surround us, bells, whistles, and silly sounds. Duck Tales, Scooby Doo, and Smurfs, just to name some classics. Blankets everywhere, roll in the pillows. Milk spilled on pajamas and Mom’s carpet. Hide the spot, don’t let Mom know.

Fights over the remote, crying, tears. A punch to the arm. Bigger brother always wins. Desire and lust fill us as we watch toy commercial after commercial making us despise our toys and wish for new ones. Eat another bowl of soggy cereal to make up for the happy meal we do not have.

Just one more, bargain with mom, then I’ll do my chores. Watch two more cartoons before Mom shuts the TV off and stashes the remote high on the shelf. Rush to scrub the toilets, skip the sink and tub. Sprawl back in front of the TV, just to have it turned off and dragged back to do the bathrooms right.

Soon, the cartoons are replaced by dull, dragged-out golf tournaments. And yet, we do not leave—not until Mom stashes the remote for the fifth time of the day.

The crunch of Velcro straps, pull up the one-piece jumper. Armbands, sweatbands, and three layers of socks. Into the garage to find a flat on the bike. Pump. Pump. Pump. And we are off to spend the day roaming the neighborhood on our bikes, explorers searching for buried treasure and embracing the freedom from home.

There is nothing like Saturday mornings in the 80’s.

____________________________________________________________________

Saturday Morning

by Stephanie Daich

THE LIST -Poetry

 THE LIST

Do you want to go to church,

Or hide in your basement?

Do you seek the good,

Or wallow in complacent?

 

Do you notice other’s sins,

And pretend your heart is pure?

Do you serve for others to see,

While your intent you do obscure.

 

Did I notice this list,

Was talking about me?

Do you see yourself in it?

We all can change--Don’t you agree?

____________________________________________________________________

The List

by Stephanie

THE MORAL STORY -Poem

 THE MORAL STORY

My conscience on my left shoulder, temptation on the right;

Good versus evil, within a mighty fight.

The body wants pleasure, the soul, eternal life.

 The good and bad in me are always in strife.

God gives all that is good, while Satan bestows his pleasure.

Catechism and good books are how my soul will measure.

The glittery things of the world easily draw me in.

The virtue of my soul is there, but quite often is the sin.

My bodily appetites take over, my salvation on the line.

Today, I do the service; tomorrow, I give into wine.

The pits of Hell welcome me, and so does Heavenly Glory.

The battle between good and bad is the mortal story.

_________________________________________

The Mortal Story

THEY SAY YOU CAN’T DO THAT -Mother Returning to School -LIFE

THEY SAY YOU CAN’T DO THAT -Mother Returning to School -LIFE

 

The moment you give in to them is the moment you lose your way.

Despite those who doubted my motives, I returned to school to finish my education when I had four small kids at home. I enjoyed being a mom but missed so much of my former self. Going by Universities was an instant depression trigger, that could burrow deep within my psyche and plague me for months. I had married during spring break with every intention of getting my degree, but my journey into motherhood put that on hold, and it broke me inside.

Returning to school terrified me and created a difficult path as I balanced nursing school and family, but I was doing it! My acquisition of knowledge was a noble step in my life. I had anticipated the hard work it would take, but I wasn’t prepared for those who made me feel like a demon for going to school.

“You are needed in the home.”

“Why would you leave your kids?”

“This isn’t your place.”

What had happened to “You can be anything you want when you grow up?”

The attack of words slung my way hurt tremendously.

I am happy that I didn’t let the haters dictate my life. I reached down to the young Stephanie and said, “Keep going. You can be anything you want.”

And with perseverance, I did.

I am educated!

During all the hours of homework and clinicals, my children learned through my example that they could do hard things. My daughters saw me fight for my education. They learned the value of becoming strong women, as one has become a Marine and the other a pilot.

Don’t listen to those who want to tear you down.

Believe in yourself and go for it.

You have one life.

LIVE IT!

_____________________________

WHAT TO DO IF THEY SAY YOU CAN'T- Mother Returning to School

by Stephanie Daich

YOUR MENTAL RIDE -Poetry

 YOUR MENTAL RIDE

You were cruel when you first approached me

I hold my tongue as your words flow

I’m shaking inside

As you take me on a verbal ride.

See the pain, see the harshness; your words sear.

As you place this at my feet.

You say I must.

Or you’ll meet defeat.

Then I say, how could you

Put this burden on my back

This is your doing,

You need to take the responsibility back.

You tried to tie your consequences back to me

I die inside as your situation pierces me

I’m withering inside.

As you take me on a mental ride.

See the hurt, see your lack of care; but you don’t care.

As you place this at my feet.

You say I must.

Or you’ll meet defeat.

Then I say, how could you

Put this burden on my back

This is your doing,

You need to take the responsibility back.

_____________________________________________________

Your Mental Ride

by Stephanie Daich

ALWAYS FIRST- Poetry

ALWAYS FIRST

With closed eyes, we do not see,

A rotting nation,

Whose citizens fight one another,

Instead of uniting.

 

 

Among colleagues, we push and shove,

As selfish people,

Stepping on each other,

To get ahead.

While wearing blinders, we believe,

Compared to others,

We are better than all,

Yet, putting ourselves first.

________________________________________

Always First

by Stephanie Daich

THE ADDICTION HAS WON AGAIN -Poetry

 THE ADDICTION HAS WON AGAIN

Succumbed again.

               One day in four.

 How did I fail?

A blight, a sting

               A beguiling tune.

Controlling me.

Day one -so strong.

               Nothing will take me down.

I have it this time.

Look at the pitiful fools.

               Drowning their will in their addiction.

Not me. Never again.

Wanderlust with the eyes.

               The substance catches my attention.

Leave me alone!

Day three -I fade in and out.

               I have this. I do!

I made it one more day!

I can do this. I will never fall again.

               I am power.

Power. That is me.

And now, here I am,

               Gripped by my madness.

The addiction has won again.

____________________________________________________________________

The Addiction Has Won Again

by Stephanie Daich