Yesterday I was traveling on Route 476 near Philadelphia. I was doing alright, chatting with a very good friend on my Jaw Bone (an electronic hands free equipment) and just letting the tires take over the miles. I was about half way to my NY apartment.

I was in the passing lane when a very fast SUV started to come up on me and without signal swerve into the inside lane which was not moving very quickly because of a large truck up ahead, this did not deter the arrogant young man as he cut me off to come back into the passing lane and go back in to pass the next car, doing the same thing, the third car ahead of me was not so lucky. I learned this later, when the cars in my lane ahead of me quickly went to the inside lane and to the shoulder. I seen smoke and heard squealing and saw bits and parts flying as I came within 2 car lengths of a car now sideways to the traffic and pressed up front face to the cement divider. Having thrown my 4 ways on I jumped out and said "Accident!" to my friend who quickly asked if it was me, I said "Nope" and we ended the conversation until later.

As I got to the accident, two other men were there, one was an off duty officer, he took over handling the scene and the other gentle man were free to check on the 3 college age young adults in the car. The driver, a young woman was the only one with an injury that needed immediate attention, and thankfully that was only a gash to her eyebrow from her glasses. She was making phone calls and talking clearly and remaining very calm, her boyfriend beside her was consoling her and one of our team was helping them answer questions ans we waited for the tow truck and police officers to arrive.

I went to the young man in the back who had his head in his hands and was shaking quite hard. I place my hand on his back and said nothing. He slowly calmed and said, "It was the SUV! He was flying and cut us off, Did anyone get his plate number?!"

The three of us confirmed that we had seen the accident and the police be told but unfortunately that reckless driver created an accident and eeked through and kept going.

The police came and then shortly following a woman driving up the shoulder, hopping out, running and yelling, the young woman yelled and they hugged, finally letting herself have a good cry in her momma's arms. The dad walked over clearing his throat and asked all what they knew, then they repeated what we had all shared with the officer about the Shiny Blue SUV.

The mom and I hugged and she thanked me as I stayed and helped get things needed from the car before it was finally towed away. They wanted to compensate me for my time. I said I have 4 beautiful girls and if anything were to ever happen, God forbid, My only compensation would be that others would stop and help them out as willing as the wonderful people who did here. I felt privileged to help and want nothing.

We hugged again and I whispered, "When you are alone with your girl, tell her that I said that she handled herself so very well. She was strong and held courage til momma got there. You should be a proud mom, she handled herself well." We both laughed and shed small tears at thinking about what her baby had faced briefly and thankfully, just a little banged and parted ways.

Oh! And SUV boy, I don't know if you were finally spotted and pulled over, but You are so missing out on life!!

Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I... I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.

This was written on a mural in my High School English class. It was on the wall closest to the door. My last name was Brown, There was Bartch, Bellows, Boardman, Brister, Brown (Kevin) then Brown..Me. I sat right where the road divided. It was not much of an impact on me at the time, now it has a much greater meaning.

I do take the one less traveled by, no, not at first. At first I did the typical thing girls in the country where I lived, at my age, were doing. A little bit of college, marry young, have children, get a little white house, stay at home til they grow up..oh but mine didn't get that far ...the fork in the road faced me, and I had no choice but to make a decision.

Now I travel 9 hours between two wonderful homes. One is where my husband resides, in a little bay community where the sea gulls hover over the water and scream for us to notice them in the summer and in the winter "a little snow must fall..." and people tuck their hoods around their heads and talk about the wind. Always wind there.

People speak differently and everyone has a nick name, from Weasel, Beetle and flip-flop, to Mushy and Scrapple head. Some people's names have been forgotten over the years and it takes a while to find someone who knows their real name.
People here are all related and if you don't know someone, You can always ask who their 'people' are and they will trace their relatives to you so you know who they are by whose, spouse, parents or brother they are.

I will always enjoy the wordage here, things are spoken backwards. You never hear someone say a baby is pretty. They say things like "Now she ain't pretty!" that would be the greatest compliment.
They call their children, Youngins. I liked the word but my sarcastic New York children liked it too and reversed the order and started referring to me as the Oldin, so I ended that usage.

My apartment in Upstate NY is much like a dorm. When Sarah graduated, she moved out, her sisters quit sharing their room and Ashli moved into Sarah's. The smaller room was transformed into the Livingroom and Kayleen sprawled in her equally sized bedroom.
Sarah wanted back a year later, we gave her the 'livingroom' donating the furniture, to make room for her bed and dresser.
Each bedroom has a Television with cable and computers, the center kitchen is used for our dinners and get together time. We like it, and the rule is, when someone brings a male to the house we all are to be informed prior to arrival. Which usually involves the doorbell at the bottom of the stairs, which generally is followed by at least one bedroom door slamming shut.

I have been living this way for 5 years now and have 2 more before my youngest graduates.

I love each home, and miss someone at either end of the road, but for now, this...is my road less traveled.

Ron Friesen, Azron, wrote a blog about dissapointment.
Included in his blog post was this line, "One of the psychologists mentioned that the deepest negative feeling was disappointment."

Here was my response:

Ron,
Disappointment can run deep, but I think it is all how it impacts you. I learned early on to not place all my trust in human relationships because they are, after all, human.
I also have had many things fall through and disappoint me, but to me it is like the song, "I get knocked down and get up again.."

I also have learned that some of my greatest disappointments have taught me lessons or placed me in situations I would have never gone prior.
An example of that was not gaining full custody of my children, it was devastating. My abuser was allowed full custody of children he rarely, if ever, nurtured them. Children in which I had placed my whole identity.
I started thinking rationally, fast. Why? Because God does not abandon me, and I had to find the good in this. I started thinking about the many millions of parents who have permanently lost their children, of the many that were forcibly seperated in wars and concentration camps or any other situation which was worse, then I felt blessed. I began praying for mothers and children who are or have suffered worse.

I thought how I needed to heal and learn to be independant and healthy so my girls could learn from me and not duplicate the 'circle of domestic violence' and I prayed hedges and for wisdom, more than I ever would have.
Disappointments are means of growth, I work hard to see them no other way.
The outcome for me?

My girls see a healthy and strong mother. One that is willing to travel long hard hours to be with them and provide a safe and nurturing environment.
My sweet girls see their daddy for who he is, because he is a continual part of their life and not just a weekend, 'lets have a great time' daddy. Yes, that is difficult for them but it seperates my life from their dads, I teach them to pray for him and to still respect regardless.
I would never have had the strength and desire to do this, to become who I am today without my disappointment.
I don't think God gives us disappointments, choices and circumstances beyond our control does, but when handled correctly, God uses them for the greater good. I certainly don't enjoy disappointments, but they don't impact me the way they can. Otherwise I could not have taken another step.

I can't help but think about a child in the supermarket crying because his mom won't let him have a candy bar because it will ruin his meal, yet despite his disappointment, it is for his greater good.
*******

What are your thoughts and or greatest disappointments, did you grow from it or did it nurture negatively?

Hi Stream Friends, I have missed you,
My new years resolution is to be here faithfully this upcoming year!
Miss you all!!
Happy New Years!!!

Jack.

He lived in my rural Pennsylvania town. His rough exterior hid his innerself from us. I don't know what depth there was to him because he did not seem unintelligent, yet I have so little interaction with him there is no scale to base it upon.

As early as I can remember to my young adult years we would Christmas Carol as a church group and one of our stops was Jack's house. I hated that stop, it worried me about Jack and it made me think far too much about a life spent there.

See, Jack's house was a huge old farm house located down a lane that had grass growing up through its middle. The barn next to it was on its knees in those days but I am sure it has finally found its resting place. The house was what worried me the most. It was a huge old farm house, probably quite nice in its day. Jack grew up there as a child and remained there as an adult after they had passed.

At the point that I was old enough to understand that the house had been through a fire and question someone about it, Jack had lived there for almost a decade.

I learned that there was no fire insurance, the house was owned by Jack and the taxes were covered by family. He refused anyone to come near the house itself and would not let anyone in or around the house. There was a room near the back that was liveable, I guess according to Jack, and as far as I could tell it had no electricity.

We would pull up along the drive way near the house. Its blackened windows staring at us through hollow eyes that remembered better days. The front spoke of neglected flowers turned to weed and floured by snow. We would file out and gather at the base of the drive and sing "Silent Night" and a few more songs followed up by "We wish you a Merry Christmas", then place the fruit basket down in the snow. At the time, in my young untilled mind, it felt like a sacrifice to an unseen beast, a peace offering. Today, I see it as a gesture, a gift to a man stuck in his circumstances and mind.

As I have never personally heard Jack talk. As a child I conjured up my own mental conversations and many times I had to fight the anguish I would feel when I thought about him living in that burned out house all by himself.

My father would give "Ole Jack" a ride to town on his way to work. It was there that Jack would shop for things the home town Red and White store didn't carry. Stocking up on his favorite brand of cigars. Sometimes he would ride back home with dad if he didn't run into someone else who had no issue giving Jack a ride.

Jack has been long gone from this old world and I have often wondered how enriched was his life. Was it daily resentment or was it the way he wanted it and he was content?

I ask dad once if he held conversations with Jack on his ride and dad said he did but they were very basic, there wasn't much to say.

Its still hard for me to think on Jack, I never rested my eyes on him long enough to see his face when I was little. I used to believe it was my fear of him, but I think it was deeper than that, it was the fear of his life, of the unknown and the fear within me to understand how one gets to that point.

I hold no fear of Jack today. I understand that it was the way he lived that still holds some fascination for me. I know he was offered alternatives, but Jack, well..Jack was Jack, as dad puts it.