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COMM 1133 – 01
Prof. Sarah Maloney
October 13, 2014
Buzz, buzz, buzz goes my little grey, 20 year old alarm clock. I reach over and hit the snooze button for the fourth time. I know I should get up, but my body doesn’t move. Another day I am not ready to face. I think to myself, just get up and get it over with. Again, my body doesn’t move, just my mind races with self-talk. I should get up because I can’t sleep anyways. I lie and wait for the loud buzz of the alarm to go off again. This time when it goes off, I scream “Leave me alone” and actually shut it off and jump out of bed. I am angry that I have to get up. I kick my two cats out of my way, on the way to the bathroom. As I sit and ponder my day, I start to feel guilty for kicking my two cats. What did they do to deserve this, except come greet me, as I got up for the day? This is about the time; I start to change my attitude for what was to become quite the day.
I begin by petting and telling my cats, Biggie and Smalls, that I am sorry. I immediately feed them their breakfast. And not just any breakfast, a breakfast for champions. I give them wet food, salmon, if I recall correctly, along with their dry food on this day. They deserve it for putting up with their cranky owner. You would think that they would know me by now and remember that I am not a morning person. I wait for them to finish. The eating of their breakfast does not take long. They both act like they are starved from not eating all night and devour their meal. I then open the door to the outside world, where they will go for the rest of the day. They enjoy hunting, so they don’t mind being outside all day.
Now that the cats are taken care of, back to me. I start my day by reheating my coffee from last night. My honey brings me a coffee every night after he is done work. Sometimes I am in the mood for another one, but most times, I store it in the refrigerator to reheat the next morning. Because I am classified as an adult with ADHD (attention deficit hyper disorder), I can’t just relax while I wait the two and a half minutes for the coffee to heat through. I now start to prepare my breakfast and lunch at the same time. Kill two birds with one stone my Grandma used to say, that, and early bird gets the worm. But that saying is lost on me, as I dislike getting up early. I throw my slice of raisin bread in the toaster and place two whole grain slices on the counter, ready to be made into something worthwhile for lunch. I start by putting mustard and mayonnaise on each slice of the bread. Not too much, because that makes the bread soggy. I then begin to build my sandwich. I add a layer of green lettuce, swiss cheese, sliced tomato, and lastly a slice of ham left over from last night’s dinner. I then proceed to put the sandwich in my earth green reusable Tupperware sandwich container. It barely fits with all the good filling between the slices of bread. “Pop,” goes the toast, just in time. I think I have been doing this routine forever now, and have everything timed just right. I pull my well toasted raisin bread out of the toaster and decide to use butter this time as the spread I put on it. I grab a banana to go along with my toast.
As I eat, I also scrimmage through my piles of bills on my table that are just waiting for me to pay. As I look through them, while eating, I sort them by order of importance. By importance, I mean hurry up and pay this bill before they cut me off. Hydro wins again. I can live without satellite television, netflicks, and the phone, but not without electricity. Okay, I could live without electricity, but I don’t want to. I am accustomed to living with hydro now. I remember not having running water or electricity growing up. I didn’t realize how much work it was, until, I had the luxury of it later in life.
My toast is gone, onto my banana and the choosing my wardrobe for the day. I hate this part most. I don’t have money for nice, new clothes, so my choices are old and outdated clothing. I think everyone at work has seen everything I have to wear. I pick black slacks, the only colour I have, and a somewhat bright red sweater. That sweater had definitely seen brighter days. But after so many wears and washings, it has faded, but still fits, so I put it on. I notice that it is beginning a tiny hole in the arm pit of it. I think to myself, “no one will notice,” and “I’ll sew it when I get home tonight.” Best last plans, my only problem is remembering them. I then continue with my hair, another disappointment. I should just cut it all off. It just hangs in my face. Instead of styling it or beating myself up over it, I just grab a hair clip and put it up in a bun. There, now I can leave my house for the day to work. As I grab my car keys, lunch and purse, I take one glimpse around as I back out of the house and lock the door. Geez, I really should clean it up when I get home.
I finally get to work to see the pile of work left over from yesterday, still waiting for me to attend to. I wonder to myself, is this, what life is about? Mounds of paper work, eye strains from data entry into my computer, and soon enough clients who don’t want to be here and let me know it, but must come to fulfill some kind of agreement they made with their caseworker. “UGHHHH,” how much of this can I endure, day in and day out. Just then, the phone rings. I hear my daughter on the other end, she is speaking but I can’t make out what she is saying. I tell her, slow down and tell me what is wrong. She takes a deep breath and screams “get to the hospital now, I’m in labour.” Believe you, me, when my daughter hollows, everyone listens. I am not afraid of man, or beast, but my daughter can strike the fear in me. So, I let my boss know the situation and I hurry to the hospital.
Once I get to the hospital, I am faced with multiple choices of where to go and I am not equipped to focus at this moment and I walk around aimlessly. I finally get a text from my daughter to get location and to tell me to hurry the heck up. She lets me know they are on the fourth floor, so I proceed to the nearest elevators. The elevator doors open on the fourth floor and there I seen my poor son-in-law, with panic, fear and excitement all in one expression on his face. He quickly leads me to where my daughter is; ready to give birth to her first baby and my first grandbaby. I cried instantly at the site of her and I to, probably had the same expression as my son-in-law early. There my poor baby girl lay, in pain and afraid. I reach out to hold her. She doesn’t want me to hold her; she wants to strangle me with every contraction. I instantly had a flashback to the time I when I was in labour with her. I not only squeezed the bejeebers out of my mother, I also took a bite out of her. So I don’t complain and just happily let my daughter death grip my arms. It is not long before she is telling us, be ready cause she was going to push until the baby came out. And true to her word, the doctor arrived just in time to catch the baby. “It’s a boy!” my son-in-law yells in excitement. And with tears in my eyes I go with the nurse who now has my grandson and watch him get checked, cleaned up and weighed. He is a healthy, dark haired, brown skinned little Mohawk baby, just like his momma was when she was born. His name is “Ranenhstaha:wi”, which means; “He Carries Corn,” in the Mohawk language. His name represents his family roots, as his great grandmother was famous for the corn in our community.
It’s seem funny to me now, to have started my day out with such discontent and now what seemed to be the start to a bad day, turned into one of my happiest days. I was having a terrible start to my day, but all that changed when I saw grandson. It was at that moment, I realized, why I get up and do the same ol same ol every day. It is so; I can reside, work, support my community, and live the traditional life the creator set out for me. But most importantly, it is to love, cherish, and care for my family.
So now, I have a picture of my grandson right beside my bed, to remind me that life is worth getting up for. No more snooze button for me.
RUNNING HEAD: RANENHSTAHA:WI 1efinitely seen brighter days. But after so many wears and washings, it has faded, but still fits, so I put it on. I notice that it is beginning a tiny hole in the arm pit of it. I think to myself, “no one will notice,” and “I’ll sew it when I get home tonight.” Best last plans, my only problem is remembering them. I then continue with my hair, another disappointment. I should just cut it all off. It just hangs in my face. Instead of styling it or beating myself up over it, I just grab a hair clip and put it up in a bun. There, now I can leave my house for the day to work. As I grab my car keys, lunch and purse, I take one glimpse around as I back out of the house and lock the door. Geez, I really should clean it up when I get home.
So now, I