She loves me regardless

I'm ALREADY HOme

A Mental interval of the mind cannot be easily traced to a specific source, but the symptoms can be as real as any other sickness. I can only explain it as the time it takes between two events, like an intermission to pass from one stage to another, But the event never completes itself. Like the thought was stolen quickly with a flash, and everything with it. Let's see what happens when you forget about home, and find yourself a million miles away in the same house.

The life of Charles E. Hutton

Proverbs 18:22

"He that finds a wife find a good thing. And obtains favor from the Lord."

Waking up in the morning with a mountain of things pressed on my soul. I sit here in this room, sorta statue like. Cold and not moving, yet inside full of warmth. It's been awhile since the thoughts in my head were silent. It's almost like being reborn, and you don't know where to begin.

 It seemed like the very thoughts in my mind, just all got up at once and left. Leaving me with a feeling of emptiness. The moment that seemed to linger so pressingly on my heart, mind, and soul suddenly vanished.

Pushed out by nothing of my own recant, I find them deceased by emptiness too soon gone to be unearthed by the exiting of existence. Relocated to a new era, unknown to me even the destination, yet finding it could be a task not warranted. Yet somehow I found peace with not knowing whence it left.

 I don't miss it, But curiosity has me asking it's worth pondering over the few seconds it made an impact, but took everything with it. For a second yes comes into play, but now the question is what do you fill this empty place with. I close my eyes to let my imagination run. Now I can began to have fun.

No matter what I will not go back to that horrible place.

They were looking for me, but little did they know I'm already home!

1 Peter 3:7

"Husbands likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel, and as being heirs together of the grace of life, that your prayers may not be hindered."

My name is Charles E. Hutton

I don't know why this has happen to me, but I cannot move. There is something on my mind, and I can't seem to get passed that.

I sit here looking at her. Yet she doesn't notice my stillness. With all her daily routines, she go about this life not knowing if I exist or not. Well I guess these next several moments will tell now, for she is the fighter, and time is not on her side.

For me all this will have an ending, and I shall melt away from her wicked grasp.

I yearn for the day coming not expediently but like a turtle, moving across rough terrain one's body dare not use for traveling without help.

So this turtle has decided not to move until she sees me for who I am.

I sit and wait in this room, statue like. Cold, not moving, yet inside full of warmth. It's been awhile since the thoughts in my head were silent. It's almost like being reborn, and you don't know where to begin. I wish this ringing would stop in my ear...

Oh, it's her voice calling.

The tale of Lilly Thompson

1 Peter 3:1

Wives likewise, be submissive to your own husbands, that even if some do not obey the word, they, without a word may be won by the conduct of their wives.

When they observe your chaste conduct accompanied by fear.

"Are your wits about you, staying statue like is not proper for the sunlight." Lilly Thompson always seem dumbfounded to his needs he thought. kinda slow for his taste but if games he wanted games she would play.

Banging pots, ringing bells, and screaming didn't seem to work. So back to the drawing board she decided. Maybe nagging him to death, will cause him to snap out of his condition.

"One day the good lord will find favor in me, to stick pencil tie your limbs together with twine and make you stand like that for scores to come. I hate mocking him for making me suffer through all your vicarious ways of treatment that you do to me." Pleading her case to the subject of denial now seated at the table served, yet finished.

She circled his now imitation of the great art sculptor of The Thinker, a man with his hand on his chin with head fixed into place. Thought was the rapid stare his eyes gave energy to. Seeing how stiff his lower body pressed into the chair seated at the breakfast table was, gave her mind time to formulate an idea to test her theory. 

She glanced in his direction once or twice to see if death had helped her this time never taking him serious, but just in case she had a sure fire way to find out truth, or if that was his way to get under her skin.

 She judged character well.

Now pulling up the 20 lb sacks of flour off the floor, she began filling up the mason jars to sell at the market for money. Times were hard enough without Charles wanting to take a break from life but waiting cost. She began screaming at him from the top of her lungs envisioning he was down the stone laced walk, and her voice needed to chase the ferry before it hit the port two towns over.

"These ratchet duties of men, are not fit for the likes of my youth." she would say. For the stars only shimmer at night, why ask of them to appear at break giving off their prize to eyes that cannot see? For there shine is to give way to captains on ships marked with stolen or lost treasure, for surely you've stolen my youth but lost I am not.

 Just here with a newt.

"The last time you endeavored freedom from jobs endless routine for visions of clarity, you told me to believe you. I didn't but allowed your thoughts of travel to Wales, to see royalty become real as day. The harsh reality of events shocked me, when large water spouts burst from the sea onto the boat. Eye to eye contact with such huge creatures of the deep looking at me now covered in fish oil, I swear you thought that funny, while I was overcome with rage. 

Now to think about it... twas indeed.

Whales...

Ephesians 5:28- 33

28 So husbands ought to love own their wives as their own bodies; He who loves his wife loves himself.

29 For no one ever hated his own flesh; but nourishes and cherishes it, just as the Lord does the church.

Lilly Thompson shook her head as to jar loose the nails in the coffin, that now sealed away the life she knew she had been given. The ill bearing conditional news of her husband's lapse in function, now piled mounds after mounds of dirt over her life. The Physician, jotted down something on his pad then looked back at the young woman standing by the window as she kept pacing the floor.

"You mean like an empty space or a gap in his mind? How could that be, he is not old, that's an old person disease like dementia. He is just a man of four scores yet past five days." She was clutching a white handkerchief in her left hand, while pleading her case with the right. She couldn't figure out if she should wipe her tears, or wait for more to come.

All this was some unexpected news to hear right after breakfast.

Looking at her with the most earnest pleading face he could muster up knowing little comfort can give way one such known for violence, but this suggestion for the half thwart woman in his office seemed dead on point.

"Maybe you just need to take him home, and just make things as comfortable as you can dear lady, facts here explain there is nothing more we can do at this time as you can see." He jumped back this time, remembering that a moment ago she had nearly taken his head off just for asking if she was his mother. Meaning no harm, but understanding that the diagnosis was so important right now.

Time was what was needed for things to settle down, and take root.

Wait, wait, wait a minute. What are you talking about? looking down at the statue seated man still in a trance like stage, the half puzzled stunned expression that lived on his face by no means gave insight to a known word of mankind to describe this case.

"For what reason, and how can a person of this caliber, and magnitude have a part of his mind just skip and retreat with no intention of ever coming back, leaving this now blank canvas that sits in front of me in this mannequin like state that never continues. Twas he not just a minute walking talking, dancing, living and then just paused, nothing more. I can't wrap my mind around such a notion."

She knew he was playing board. so the next comment made for village news. "For I rather be dead to this silence, then he sit and ponder no further." she said hurting her eyes to get one single tear out.

Someway or somehow he think he is missing a part, a moment, an hour, an event or even a day of his memory, and I feel that without it, he will never move on or come out this condition. We think It's fair to say that he's trapped in this body, but his mind is in another place. Unless we can find out where he is and bring him back, he will never come home again.

A tear fell from her eyes. For in her heart she feared the worst ever. Pondering over what if the event missing can never be recovered, what would have to be done to get it back? Life plans had been made, and thought out ties to come, well sought out before all of this new found life altering events placed before an unsuspecting life.

Ephesians 5:30- 33

30 For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones.

31 For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother, and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.

32 This is a great mystery, but I speak concerning Christ and the church.

33 Nevertheless let each one of you in particular so love his own wife even as himself; and let the wife see that she respects her husband.

I hope that the messages will help reunite families, Friends, and Love ones alike on this special day.

 So from my Heart to your Heart Happy Valentines Day.

Sincerely, The Author Ken Gandy

Creative Commons License

i'm already home by Ken Gandy is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License.

Based on a work at http://nobigilittlemeinmarriage.blogspot.com/.

HER LOVE

The thought’s can run out of your mind, when you think of the word LOVE.

I’m not talking about the words I LOVE YOU.

But a different LOVE.

I wanted to know LOVE.

But I was too over excited, to feel the gentle touch of LOVE, deeply cutting down trees of wood.

Burning ambers, lighting desires of burning passion, for more of this knowledge called life.

I wanted more!

It craved me like a drug.

She talked to me, telling me she could fulfill my raving thoughts of life soon to be past gone.

I responded with a caveman mentality “Huh!”

That was the new language, and the primal instinct to repopulate the earth, stood more to rage terror of those whom may have tried to get me.


Man was I surprised by the shocked look now implanted on her forehead free for all to see the dismay she now felt.

Disappointed beyond belief.


But the response that she gave puzzled me.

Nope is wasn’t like the average answers, you would get from the average situations we face in life.

She smiled.

“Maybe I’ll dream about the day when I can fully LOVE you.” Was her answer.

My lips parted, and I begged deep inside that she would say,” today is the day she dreamed of.”

For it was not this evening.


Nor did she say, "Maybe I’ll reach for you again, and live in you and be free".

Just to be able to breath her deep once again.

She smiled and simply said "Maybe it’s up to you, Just maybe if you have the key".

That love is like no other I have gotten to known of this earth.

For only one other love, has shown us all, how to love like we should do all the time.

She watched my way's and learned, so now she was preparing me for better days to come.

The day when I would miss her love.

It was around the bend.

That day came all too soon for me.

Like a bad habit I kept repeating the same old mistakes trying to open that box.

Never thought she would notice my eye shift, but the tiny hint of
mistrusted good works turned colder, as the days turned longer.

I soon feel victim to a new tune, being played like a harp.

Being better, to make a new me, seemed impossible.

Life is funny like that sometimes.

It comes and goes, but her love never left my side, even when I had left her's.

I was man shooting his life, on a table, like a game of pool.

Each move is a new decision, or position to move to.

I had plenty of holes left and down to my last two balls.

I thought to myself now what.

Something so little as a wrinkle, or line, or crack showed no emotion on a face drenched with lessons, of inspiration dedicating something so simple as LOVE.

She hid it all away from me.

she put it in a box for safe keeping.

Yet did not put it up on a shelf.

She smiled tears of pain, as she put it in my hands.


Her words simply said.

“I gave it to you free and open.”

She wanted to make sure I knew that it was my actions that caused the lid to fall close.

For it was my actions that released the beast of dispare and loneliness.

For only my actions could set things right again.

"I don't have the key, remember I gave it to you when we first met."

I thought that i knew where it was, but somewhere down the line, during life issues,i forgot about the box, and the lock, now i cant even remember the code or where I hid the key.

She said if you want that special gift in the box, you will have to work hard at opening the box on my own.

But she wasn't that far away with her mouth to remind me that I was lost at times.

And the words of love stop falling from her lips.

She went everyday about her chores while i tinkered away with that box.

Sometimes i presented her with the doings that i had done, but her love stood strong for me, and passionate about her hearts desire to meet the one who could open the box.

The puzzle opened with works not words, for words can easily misguide you, and emotions don't always care about you.

So searching for a key was useless, when the whole time I was the key.

Nothing I spoke about made sense to her.

And to search for a item I had the whole time was foolishness.

It was potential that made the key.

The key to open the box.

A key to unlock the world as we see it.

The key to her love.


Now you know.

Go find your key.

Sincerely

Ken Gandy





Merry Christmas.