The school hallway was packed with students. Working my way through the corridor to my next class, a boy grabbed me in my crotch. I turned my head around quickly to see the perpetrator. It was shocking to me that anyone would even consider grabbing me in that region of my body.
Me Who? The world was a different place back then. Who would care about me?
Remembrance lights illuminating my neighborhood has become a tradition.
Who am I? I ask that question of myself. I answer. An inspired human being beyond belief. That is who I am and how I feel.
The music softly plays in the background as I ponder my own humanness. It grows in strength. Hearing the crescendo of the musical instruments raises me up to a new high that surely I could not do by myself.
Luke is calmed by the use of watching movies or listening to music with his headset. It works wonders when his autism seems to be making him upset. How many of us do not have autism and are relaxed by music?
(Disclaimer: Original post written 12/2012). When I was growing up, mental illness was shunned. We did not talk about it in my household. The first time I was exposed to the mentally ill was when I visited my two aunts at their job. They were nurses in a mental hospital for chronic patients in Kentucky. As a young girl of 17, I was immediately drawn into the strangeness of this new world. ( Today a person would not be allowed to visit like I was able).
My cousin’s daughter wrote an amazing report that covers the autism controversy in regards to vaccines. This piece is well referenced with many options for you to read the most comprehensive back stories behind the most contentious misleading “fake news” in the autism world.
During a trip visiting my mother and her husband , I had the pleasure of going to the Air Force Enlisted Heritage Institute. It is a state attraction. Civilians are educated at this museum on the history of the air power of the Air Force. We had hardly walked in the door when my step-dad Roy was greeted like a rock star. He is a retired WWII veteran and Stalag 17 POW. His plane was shot down and he was captured by enemy forces for almost two years in 1942.
Back by popular demand-the scariest post I have ever written. I noticed my blog is blowing up with views. It always does at this time of the year due to this particular fun post I wrote four years ago while working on genealogy projects! It was a fun day. BOO!