Family, Uncategorized

Happy Easter 2017


Dearest Readers:

April 16, 2017 – Easter. Today is a beautiful, sunshiny day in Charleston, SC. A glorious day to give thanks, and to share religions around the world.

As a little girl, my family would go to church with our grandparents at Beallwood Assembly of God Church, Columbus, GA. Sitting in the church, listening to the sermon and singing, everyone compared their ‘Easter outfits.’ My grandparents always made certain we (the four girls in the family) had new clothing and sparkling new shoes. My Gramma insisted, even though she did not buy a new dress for herself. Gramma worked at the Bibb Mill, so money was always tight. She was her happiest looking at us, all looking our ‘Sunday Best,’ for church and the Easter dinner after church. As a little girl, I insisted to my grandmother. ‘My shoes must have a heel.’ Gramma bought me beautiful French pumps. Oh, how I loved them. On Easter Sunday, I pranced around in those shining white shoes with a pretty white bow and French pumps, and my new dress, parading around like a pageant queen so everybody in church would notice me. I would spin around and around. My hair was styled in a French twist and a bow, matching my shoes. Oh…yes…I was something fancy in my Easter Sunday Best! Easter was a special time to enjoy the holiday and the fun of getting new clothes and the beginning of my lifetime passion of high heels!

But…Easter is MORE than a holiday. MORE than new shoes and clothing. So Much More!

For me, Easter is a time to celebrate the resurrection of Christ. A time to give thanks and start life anew. According to the website: https://www.thoughtco.com/what-is-easter-700772 “Christians believe, according to Scripture,  Jesus came back to life, or was raised from the dead, three days after his death on the cross. As part of the Easter season, the death of Jesus Christ by crucifixion is commemorated on Good Friday, always the Friday just before Easter.”

I no longer get a new, fancy dress or heels for Easter. Nor do I get in the social aspect of who is wearing the prettiest shoes, the highest heels, or, the fanciest ‘bonnet.’ I give thanks that Easter is a time to be thankful that Jesus came back to life three days after his death. Every year at Easter I take time to appreciate the religion and faith my grandmother taught me, especially her belief that God listens to us and He is always there for us. Gramma had the gift of visions. When she passed, I am convinced she shared that gift with me. Some of my friends probably think I am weird since I have visions, but for me, I am thankful! Gramma is still inside of my heart and I give thanks to God for knowing such a devoted grandmother.

Living in Charleston, South Carolina now, I went back to Columbus, GA a few years ago, driving by the church, Beallwood Assembly of God. When I drove by, I did not recognize the church. Abandoned, needing many repairs, no longer named Beallwood Assembly of God, I realized some things never stay the same. Suddenly I felt an emptiness I didn’t anticipate.

As a young girl, my family placed our roots in that church. Footprints. Tears. Memories. All gone.

Today, I like to give thanks for the foundation for religion and faith I discovered at Beallwood. Even as a rebellious teenager, angry that my parents were divorcing, I found a bit of new life and thankfulness at that church. I listened to the minister, recognizing that some of his sermons were directed right at me. Just how did he know I needed his sermons? Was God talking to him…telling Brother Bacon I was a bad girl who was angry and perplexed that my life was falling apart simply because my parents were divorcing?

I suppose I will never know. My parents are gone now. My mother and I rarely spoke before she died of a stroke, and a few other questionable situations. My father and I were extremely close and I give thanks every day that I survived my childhood.

Easter is a special time, even if I honor and celebrate it for different reasons now. I still have a strong faith and I know God listens to me and He loves me. I do not rush out to buy an ‘Easter outfit,’ nor do I purchase a fancy Easter bonnet. I cook a nice Easter dinner. This year, I am baking a ham. Mashed potatoes. Fresh sautéed green beans and a pineapple casserole. Dessert is a home baked triple chocolate cake.

It is sad my son and his family will not be with us. There is a long story there, not to be published here on my blog. I will wish them “Happy Easter,” and I will pray that one day their eyes will open to recognize nothing is more important than family.

So, dearest Readers, I’d like to wish all of you a Happy Easter. May you enjoy this beautiful day and please remember to thank God for your life…your family…and your health.

Happy Easter!

 

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Family, Uncategorized

In Memory of My Father On His Birthday In Heaven…


IMG_0572THE PERKINS TWINS

 

Lewis and Walter – Identical Twins

Separated by death at age 26;

Reunited with God’s love at 84.

Holding the gates to Heaven’s Door.

Missing and Loving you both —

Walter’s Daughter – Barbara

Strolling in Memories Gardens

  WALTER W. PERKINS

Mr. Sandpiper, 1998

 

Born an identical twin on December 19, 1914, Walter W. Perkins will soon celebrate his 84th birthday and he is the only surviving family member left of his generation.  His identical twin brother was named Lewis.  The Perkins Family included a total of six siblings, three boys, and three girls.  Growing up as twins (Lewis and Walter) shared more than most siblings and they were inseparable — virtually impossible to tell apart.   Known as The Perkins Twins, they sang harmonically in church choirs while preaching the gospel.  They traveled to many cities, touring as The Perkins Twins and found this to be their calling in life; however, their future together, billed as The Perkins Twins, was short-lived.  Lewis became ill at the age of 26 and died suddenly.

 

Because he loves meeting people and does it so well, Dad chose the hotel industry for his profession while pursuing his dream as a writer and poet.  In the early 1960’s he wrote a poem titled, Living Words, based somewhat on Sir Winston Churchill.  Living Words was published and today is on display at the Winston Churchill Museum.  At the age of 65, Dad retired from the Rodeway Inn, Atlanta, GA.  He is divorced and the father of four daughters.  Before becoming ill, he lived at the Canterbury House in downtown Charleston and took daily strolls for relaxation.

 

Dad is a tall and proud man and he can recite poetry like a Shakespearean actor.  He is a lover of words and can paint a magnificent poetic picture while he recites the historical stories and events of times past.  An avid sports buff, he knows almost every popular football or baseball star by name, position and statistic and he can tell many interesting stories about sports, especially baseball.  If you do not care for sports, you will learn to find it an interesting fascination, just by listening to the stories Dad shares.

 

Dad has always loved the magic of words, and as a young man, he wished to make the family tradition of journal writing part of his daily activities.  He has an impressive collection of family diaries and his daily ritual includes writing the days events in his personal diary.  He started this ritual many years ago and has quite an invaluable collection of diaries.  He has researched our family genealogy, dating us back to the early 1600’s.  One impressive member of our family (distant but still very special) is the late Diana, Princess of Wales.  Our heritage dates back to the Spencer Family.

 

Today, Dad still believes in rituals and he records special things in his journal of diaries.  From historical moments, to births, deaths, marriages, and yes, even the sad times, are recorded as part of the Perkins History.  Significant events are recorded in “Strolling in Memories Gardens.”

 

As a father, he instilled many beliefs in me and I am proud to call him Dad!  He taught me to look inside of a person, to see the inner beauty and not just the face or the smile.  He encouraged me to believe in myself and to always “make it a good day!”  He has lived a wonderful and proud life and I have never been more proud of him than I have during this year.  Walter W. Perkins is truly my bright and shining star, my beautiful aromatic rose, and he is the most loyal and dedicated father, family and friend I have ever known!

 

 

Barbie Perkins-Cooper

December 19, 1998

 

Introduction

by

Barbie Perkins-Cooper

 

 

As a child, I could not understand the passion my dad, Walter W. Perkins, held for the study of genealogy.  I recall thinking and saying, who cares what happened in 1492 when Columbus discovered the ocean of blue…I wasn’t here!  How innocent and non-chalant I was!  Now, as a grown woman with a life, family and history of my own, I have grown to realize how cherished our family ancestry and heritage is.  After all, without the archives of those precious lives and the history contained within, we could not begin to understand what we are, or who we are.  Without our heritage, along with the records of our ancestors, we could not begin to grow or develop ourselves into the people that we are today.  We have much to thank our ancestors and mothers, fathers and siblings for; and I am proud of them and all the stories they lived.  As I continue to dig through the mounds of paperwork and history I am sifting through, I am amazed at the stories of these people.  I thank my father, Walter W. Perkins, for collecting all this material; and I compile it with warmth in my heart, knowing that on his 84th birthday, he will know how proud I am to compile this information in an enjoyable read for the future Perkins Family Tree.  Most of all, he will finally be able to understand how proud I am to be a descendant of the Perkins Family, along with his second born daughter!

 

Barbie Perkins-Cooper

November 30, 1998

Friendship, health, Holidays, Losing Weight, Uncategorized, Weight Watchers

Weight Watchers… Building A Bridge To A New Adventure


Dearest Readers:

Today, I will share a bit of my experience and dedication to Weight Watchers. I joined Weight Watchers in March, 2011. On the day I joined, I was mortified. Afraid. Horrified I would see someone I knew and they would share with the world that “Barbie was in Weight Watchers today…”

I’m certain some of you have acquaintances who love to spread gossip…the wicked and ugly truths some women love to share! Years ago, I referred to these ‘acquaintances’ as friends…I do not anymore! Friends do not spread ugly gossip. Friends accept you for who you are. True friends embrace you with love and acceptance, even when you are down.  I’ve known and lost a few ‘friends’ since in all total honesty — they were only acquaintances. They pretended to be your friend to your face, but turn your back and you almost feel the back-stabbing and the poisonous words they spat, and so — I keep my distance!

At my first meeting at Weight Watchers, I did not know anyone. I breathed a sigh of relief. I was apprehensive about the ‘confidential weigh-ins’ too. Approaching the desk, I did not see any curtains, or a doctor’s scale. You know the type. The weight measurements slide across until balanced, and the person who balanced the scale always leaves it to the latest weight. Everyone can see the weight of the person who weighed previously, and I cringe whenever I get on them. My newest experience with Weight Watchers was a scale sitting on the floor. I was certain others could stretch their snoopy eyes over to see how much a person weighed. That didn’t happen. The scale does not show anything, with exception of the person (a receptionist or leader) standing at the desk. Only she knows what the weight of each individual is, and they do not share the number to anyone! Believe me, the confidential weigh-in does exist!

Maybe this might work this time, I thought to myself as I approached the scales. Just maybe this time I will succeed.

I imagine you are thinking — what? Does she really think Weight Watchers works?

My reply to all of you reading this is a simple, “Yes! Weight Watchers, because it works!”

I recognize it has taken me five years to lose 35 pounds. And, in the past year, I have bounced back and forth, just like a yo-yo. Undoubtedly, 2016 has been one of the most stressful years of my life. In February, we had the roof to our home completely replaced. After that accomplishment, we searched for over two months to hire a general contractor to do the inside repairs on ceilings, walls and other areas due to the torrential rains we had in October 2015. On May 28, 2016, the repairs were completed. My husband had reverse shoulder replacement surgery on May 31. His recovery was a whirlwind of ups-and-downs. The summer of 2016 was so stressful, I found myself slipping away from Weight Watchers and everything I loved. No walking. No exercising. No writing. No dancing…No music or singing…Nothing!

Since the summer, I’ve found myself giving in to weaknesses. After all, it didn’t matter IF I gained weight. I’m happy to report, I did not put those lost 35 pounds back on; however, I have not met goal. I don’t even have a clue what my goal should be!

Today, while sitting at my meeting, I glanced around the room. Like most Weight Watchers meetings during the holidays, we had only a small group, including a 93-year-old woman and two men. Every time I see this precious, sweet and beautiful 93-year-old woman I am inspired. Many people would say, ‘at her age, why should she be so worried at her weight?’ I say, I think she is an inspiration to all of us. Yes, she uses a walker and maybe her shoulders slump a bit, but she is still full of life. To her, her weight is important. Today, she was furious with herself. She was baking cookies with her son this week, and that is why she gained a pound. Sitting in front of me, I tapped her on the shoulders. “Just look at how blessed you are to be baking cookies with your son.”

I’m so envious. During the Christmas holidays I do not see my son, even though he lives less than 30 miles from me. How I would love the opportunity to make Christmas cookies with him again. I suppose a mother can dream.

Every year since joining Weight Watchers, I tell myself the new year will be my year. I will break this plateau and achieve goal. No, I haven’t achieved my goal yet. At least I haven’t gained the weight back!

Not only have I kept the weight off, I have gained in confidence and self-worth, much to the credit of two wonderful friends I’ve made, thanks to Weight Watchers. Since I am a writer, my life is a bit isolated. I find myself spending too much time keeping to myself. Last year, before the torrential rain storms, and the storms brewing inside my home, I kept to myself. I quit walking. Now that I think about it, I realize those walks I took with my friends energized me by encouraging me to continue. Feeling the fresh air on my face, walking the Arthur Ravenel, Jr. Bridge, and enjoying the views, birds, flowers and freedom of walking, I found myself inspired. Refreshed. Now, I realize, I need to take a first step again to walk, to find that inspiration and motivation. Tomorrow morning, I plan to take that first step!

Today, at Weight Watchers, I gained. Big deal! I’ll get those two pounds off again. As for 2017, I will go on record to say, my journey and adventures with Weight Watchers will continue. I will walk. I will fill my body and my mind with new energy while telling myself:

THIS I DO FOR ME!

Although 2017 is only a few days and steps away, I will not fail. After all, You only fail in life when you stop believing…and trying…and moving.

I plan to continue my journeys, along with Weight Watchers! Tomorrow is a new day and I will embrace it!

DSC_0032_edited

 

Free Writing, Uncategorized

FREEWRITING — T Minus 10 Minutes


And counting. My writing assignment for today is to freewrite. What is freewriting? Simple. You get either your computer or a paper and pen and write. Whatever comes to your mind. You are not supposed to edit or correct. JUST WRITE.

Easier said than done. When I type a mistake, I always go back and correct it – just like now. What to write today?

Heck if I know. I’m simply allowing my fingers to dance across the keyboard. I’ve written 80 words so far.

About? NOTHING!

Freewriting. I suppose I’ll write about goals since that is the topic that is dancing inside my head. My goal is to complete the story I started way too many years ago. Did I say it was a story? More like a title without plot. Yes, I had characters, but did not understand what the real story was until my mother died.

My mother died suddenly on 9-11… That is, a year after 9-11. She died on September 11, 2002. The day after she died, I received a phone call from my estranged sister. Her son told me “Granny is gone.”

His next statement horrified me. Apparently my mother died with some concerns from his lips, and my estranged sister’s lips. Both wanted to know IF I thought there would be an autopsy.

You must understand. I was home in bed with acute bronchial asthma. I was taking Prednisone. Prednisone doesn’t do to me what it does to others. Prednisone does not make me want to eat everything within my reach, nor does it have other side effects. There are two side effects I experience with Prednisone and they are cognitive abilities and the ability not to sleep. Every time I take Prednisone, I cannot communicate or think with an articulate brain, nor do I sleep.

My sisters comments “Do you think they’ll do an autopsy,” left me wondering. At the time, I failed to answer their question, but I must say — that cold, uncalculated question left me horrified.

Oops. Ten minutes are up. I suppose I will write again tomorrow, since I have a challenge this week to write freestyle 10 minutes daily.

Did I catch your attention? More later! My freewriting time is up – for today!

 

Free Writing

Inspiration on a Dreary Day


Dearest Readers:

This morning, I awoke before anyone in my neighborhood was up. At least, I say that because all houses within my community were dark. Not a light on anywhere, with exception of the street lights. I let the dogs outside to potty, reminding them they must be quiet. “The neighborhood is asleep,” I said. Sir Shakespeare Hemingway nodded, prancing off to find his special tree. Sandy Bear pranced around to find his spot. Prince Midnight Shadow danced around. Hank, my smallest schnauzer stood by my side. He does not like to be too far away from me, especially in the dark of night. I stopped to look outside. The skyline was extremely dark. I could hardly make it out, recognizing there was a thick blanket of fog outside. I stepped outside, walking around a bit, feeling the moisture of fog kissing my face, misting my hair. I listened hoping to hear my favorite musical sound of fog horns. The world outside was quiet. The dogs rushed to join me. They do not like the darkness of night, or the fog. Silly guys!

Another night of insomnia left me exhausted, so I rushed my special friends inside, telling them goodnight. Since it was still the middle of the night, I chose to go back to bed. My head was pounding with another sinus headache. Turning the television on, I replayed the events of the Sochi Olympics, hoping the sounds would allow me to drift off to sleep. Tossing and turning, I recognized I would probably miss my Weight Watchers meeting. I simply cannot cope when I have a headache and I am not exactly good company to anyone when a headache pounds like a hammer inside my head. When morning broke, I crawled out of bed, brewed coffee and decided to write for a bit. Instead of writing, I stared at the computer screen.

Seven days ago, the City of Charleston was cold. Many residents did not have power. We, within our community, were blessed. Never did we lose our power; however, today, I recognized I was fighting with depression once again. I could not process or organize my thoughts to write, and I was focusing on the darkness of a foggy morning while awaiting to hear the fog horns.

Later, I decided to write once again, rereading about 20 pages I’ve written this week. Looking outside again, I noticed bright sunshine and something I haven’t felt in a while due to the extreme temperatures we’ve had recently in Charleston. I chose to go outside with the dogs. The warmth of the brilliant sun hugged my body and I realized I was allowing depression to captivate me. I was not fighting like I do on most days. Depression runs in my family. My mother fought it all of her life and my grandfather was treated with several medications that our family refused to discuss. I suppose my family considered depression as a silent illness. I laugh now. Most of my friends fight depression. Maybe that is why they are my friends! Who knows.

Today, after a serious discussion with myself I realized that I had to find a way to accept depression, and to be grateful for life. Remembering the brilliant words of my grandmother, I recognized that I was focusing on the negative aspects of life, and not — LIFE. Right on cue, I chose to listen to life, hearing a welcomed sound of a bird chirping in a tree. I haven’t seen many birds lately. Normally I see mourning doves, cardinals and Carolina wrens. Lately, I’ve seen nothing.

Perhaps I haven’t noticed the beauty of nature lately because I’ve permitted myself to become incubated inside my home. On gray days, I’ve looked outside, deciding there was only grayness in life, nothing more. However, this afternoon, I discovered a much-loved and lost sight I haven’t paid much attention to, until today. Walking outside to get the mail, I noticed my tulip tree is blooming and the Carolina Jasmine is budding.

Yes, spring is in the air and I embrace it with passion. I want to wrap my arms around the freshness and beauty of springtime and never allow it to leave me. I cannot wait until the lawn dries out enough so I can rake the leaves, prune the Lantana and watch nature returning again. I haven’t walked on the Arthur Ravenel, Jr. Bridge since September 2013. If tomorrow is a reflection of today, I will walk the bridge, finding the freshness of an ocean breeze kissing my face, the warmth of sunshine, and most of all, I will find inspiration again. After all, it is the little things in life than mean the most to me. The scent of aromatic flowers. Roses. Sunshine. Good, loyal friends. A stroll on the beach, and a long walk on the bridge. I can hardly wait to embrace my inspiration tomorrow morning. Life is around me. I must embrace it with open arms!