Dark and wet
She should be asleep
But instead
She looks out
From the two story window
Watching the cars pass by
She would love
To sit and listen
To the stories
Of those that are driving
In the dark, wet hours
Between midnight
and morning time

👣💙 Jeanna’ Mead
3 09 a.m Wednesday 9.23.20

Everybody tells what they are now
Glossing over what made them who they are
Not a mention of the nights
Wishing they were somewhere else
Oh they talk about best friends
Been together since God knows when
Leave out the drunken nights
One night stands
Long affairs
They pretend it’s been smooth sailing
Like the song that was so cool
But heaven knows
It’s smoke and mirrors
Behind every smile
There’s more
They try to hide
She reads the stories
With half a smirk, half a smile
She didn’t belong back then
Sure as hell don’t now
But she still wears lace underneath
Cowboy boots on her feet
And the best stories are the ones
She keeps to herself

Sometimes
All she wanted was something long

Like a long drink of water
On a hot Texas day

Long, hot bath
At the end of any day

A long walk through the woods
Or maybe along the beach

Long slow kisses
As she stood on her toes

She wanted long conversations
With comfortable silences
That came from an easy understanding

Long novels and long movies
That kept her on the edge of her seat
Waiting to see what would be

She wanted to go on long drives in the country
To put both feet on the dashboard
Let the windows down
Play the music loud

Sometimes she wanted a long, tight hug

Long, lazy breakfast
Lingering over coffee

A long embrace
And a longer goodbye

She wanted to live a long, long life

Love a long, long, long time

She wanted everything to be just a little bit longer

Sometimes, long was a really good thing

While doing a session, this beautiful song came on and, as I read the words, I thought of the way the kindness of strangers has touched my heart the last several days.
I had pulled up at Action Sport Nutrition in Rockwall when a guy rolled down his window to tell me something.
I stepped closer to his car and told him that I couldn’t hear him because I’m hard of hearing. . He got out and showed me where my skid plate had came loose. He was kind enough to remove his mask so I could read his lips.He cared enough to stop and alert a stranger about something. That’s kindness.
I went into the store where I’ve gone for years because I know the owner is such a kind man.Of course, after telling Matt what happened, Matt walked out and looked under my car, too, and assured me that I could drive safely back to work.At Healthy Banh Mi, the young lady that took my order, used her phone to verify who I was and after giving my order to me, she signed “thank you” with kindness in her eyes.I had a new client that looked up on YouTube the way to sign “thank you” and surprised me by signing it after his massage.When I was at MOD Pizza a few weeks ago, another client recognized my situation, as I tried to understand what was being said to me and she came to my rescue.The kindness of strangers makes such a difference, even more so when you have a hearing loss and depend on lip reading in a world where almost every place masks are required.
I have found, though, that masks seem to bring out the best in most people or maybe it’s just me, and I receive the best because I expect it- I really do… I expect to be treated with kindness, I expect to be able to read lips and I expect to find good people in my path and somehow, that isexactly what happens.So if you see me out and about and if you’ve got on a mask, I promise it’s not my intention to be rude, but I really can’t understand a word you say behind that mask… But I can understand every kindness you show me and others.Just remember this, “kindness is the language that the blind can see and the deaf can hear.”#deaftherapist #writingmyheartoutHere is the song…https://open.spotify.com/track/4pgHkl7iKEPDHQR1amlotA?si=qf1YjyGBRVi8Yp15YyjNjQTell me how the kindness of strangers has brighten your day!

In my life
I’ve read bedtime stories
Nursery rhymes
Cosmopolitan magazines
Romance novels
Newspapers
Tattered love letters

I’ve read between the lines
The stories no one
Dares to read out loud

I’ve read body language
Loud and clear
An open invitation
Unyielding wall

The eyes have been
By far the easiest
For me to see
Desire and disdain
Respect and tolerance
Affection and aggravation
Hope and fear

But the thing I read
More than anything
Is the lips of whoever
Is speaking to me

👣♥️🤟Jeanna’ Mead.

The room was cold

Or maybe it was her

Wearing only blue jeans

And sandals on her feet

With a flowered print cape

Covering her breasts

She tried not to think

Too much

Too long

To breathe instead

And give it all

To God

The ache she felt

Tender to the touch

Made her feel so alone

So aware

She reached up underneath

Stroked the places where it hurt the most

She looked everywhere

In the sterile room

But found what she needed

Layered on her wrist

“You were given this life, because you are strong enough to live it.”

Òh, yes.

Damn straight

“She believed she could, and so she did.”

Amen.

Every bracelet she wears

Is a gift

It makes her think

Of the person that loved her enough

To give her what she needed

To get through days like this

When she has to sit

All by herself

Again and again

And she felt peace

About her bracelets and her breasts

Jeanna’ Mead. 7:07. 8.30.20

“Rest” he said

When she asked

For one word

*Rest,” she repeated

And placed her hand on his

Sometimes rest is what we need

Instead of other things

He needed rest

And she knew what to do

To give it to him

Right then and there

Each time, it was different

But one thing didn’t change

The way they could

Sit together

Quite content

To rest.

👣💙 Jeanna’ Mead
11 42 p.m. 8.17.20

It seems like such a little thing,

really it does

but maybe it is asking too much

to expect more than just the bare minimum

a reply

a simple “yes” or “no”

would be all it would take

some sort of closure

peace of mind

instead of being left dangling

Hanging in limbo

She would remember

really well

the next time

she is asked to do too much

Jeanna’ Mead 3 22 p.m 8,17,20