People in My Life

Life passes yearning for something. A passionate occean remains within us unrevealed unexpressed. The churning goes on years together.
I am not a methodological writer after all,i am Just an ordinary women trying to express my deep hidden thoughts,never said,untold secrets,unhealed wound.
I always remember my friends words when i was in ninth standard,if life seems lost future still remains!!!!!!!!!!!!!
No matter how many times we fall,we still cope up to get up and march further.
And the count down here begins..................
I am a charming lady,By profession am a doctor right now in my mid twenties.

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This entry is about my friend Amanda Allcox. She is an absolutely amazing person, she has over come so much and it’s not fair that she struggles with things day to day, at some point shouldn’t things get easier? I just wanted to take this chance to tell everyone her story. Amanda is a 27-year-old single mother of 2. I say single because in all aspects she is. She has a boyfriend who is the father of her youngest but she may as well be single, and a single mother of 3 if you add his son from a previous marriage into the mix.

I met Amanda about a year ago, but didn’t really get to know her until last December when she moved in with me. At the time I was dating her ex boyfriend and father of her first son. I had gone months listening to how horrible she was and how she was a drug addict and a terrible mother, and it wasn’t until I got to know her and hear her story that I realized that none of it was true.

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Dear Editor:

I would like to share with you the biography of a phenomenal woman whom I know dearly. She is a loving wife and mother, has over 10 years expertise as a senior scientist for medical research, CEO and founder of Sisters Childcare Center, LLC and non-profit organization of Community 1ST (both located in Philadelphia, PA) and she is my best friend. I feel she is phenomenal because throughout her life she's been challenged with obstacles and tragedies that nearly killed her but the Lord saw fit to allow her to overcome those obstacles and use her experiences as an inspiration to those who'll soon hear her story.

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My son was misdiagnosed at age 5 by Scottish Rite Hospital with severe ADHD. For over 9 years we struggled with over 41 medications to help him to cope with ADHD and his depression. He was diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome at 14. When he told me about his suicide plan I quit work, home schooled him for 18 months, got him off all of the medication and started to help him to see successes. He was very big for his age (tall and heavy) and constantly picked on and bullied. With help from a psychiatrist , psychologist , a disability service dog named Rosie ( a Rhodesian Ridgeback) and everyone I could wrangle in; he started to see himself as a unique person. His anger started to dwindle and we had fewer outbursts. He started to become sad that he didn't have friends so I had him research schools and we found Walden Prep. He enrolled and was in class with a 5 to one ratio with teachers who could identify with him. Socially, he tested at 12 and I was told that was all I could expect. As a teacher I refused to believe that I could not help him. I recently read a book called "The complete Guide to Asperger's Syndrome" by Tony Attwood. It has helped me to see the bigger picture.

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Our Mom has been ill for the last 7 years, but we have three rules we live by in keeping Mom as healthy and happy as possible;

Never use the "C" word [cancer]

Keep your Faith

.... and do LOTS of SHOPPING....

With that in mind, (Yesterday - around this time) Mom suggests go out to Linen's & Things because she has like 80 coupons all saved up for a wild shopping spree!

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Never Judge a Book by Its Cover
By Christine M. Smith

My daughter, Vivian, was almost two when we visited my husband’s parents, who lived in the Santa Cruz Mountains in California. At that time the hippie movement was in full swing and they had pretty much invaded the countryside surrounding the area. I am now ashamed to admit that my opinion of hippies reflected that of most of my friends and relatives. They didn’t work. They rarely bathed or changed their clothing or bothered to comb their hair. In many people’s opinion, they were lazy and not of much use to the human race…a harsh judgment to say the least.

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Well, I read all the stories in RD about heroes, helpful people, people who have persevered through disasters, so I thought I would see if anyone was interested in mine! Its about a very normal, everyday, hard working couple who have saved my life more than once, and after all, they are the sweetest people I know!

First of all, being Black, and being raised by jazz musician parents, I was never exposed to racism in my home because as you can imagine, being raised by artists that are racist is an oxymoron. I mean how could you express yourself from the depths of your soul and be restricted about something so meaningless? Race? Please! My sisters and brother saw everyone from Oriental, White, Black, and even an Albino, (before I even knew what the word meant), who was so shy, that he wouldn’t look us in the eyes. But somehow he would be transformed when he sat down to play the piano. A boldness came over him and a great smile on his face, I could tell my Dad and Mom made him feel soooo comfortable in our home that he forgot all the teasing he got all his life. The group was called the “Emmet Carter Combo” in St. Louis, MO.

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This is about a friend of mine. He was a friend and an inspiration to me.
I met him when he took command of a U.S. Naval shore activity where I was assigned as a junior officer.

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After pulling all my few strings I managed to bring her over to the city were I was working. It was not my city, but still close enough to see her every evening after work. For a few months I enjoyed the closeness stolen for years by the distance of living apart. Many years after, I still can remember every hour spent there, the evening driving, the building, the room, and going back to my place. She was staying on the first floor, towards the left, the only room in that area. One day shortly after Christmas I found her in good spirits, the doctor had finally prescribed something that took away all pain, although brought along many, many strange dreams.

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My friendship with Blanka started in high school. We were classmates; we actually even sat next to each other for most of the time, as I remember. We were about 16 and enjoyed going out – disco dancing or just walking around our little town and talking forever about boys, music, school, relationships, and of course our dreams about the future. We were doing well in school and that’s why we got all the sweet privileges from our parents.

Soon we got tired of our little town in the middle of Slovakia and expanded our dance clubs territory to another town about ½ hour away. The whole experience including bus and train transportation made us feel independent. We started dating guys, but just for fun, nothing serious. We had our plans to study at universities after we graduate and become teachers. I certainly thought we would live very similar lives.

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