I Voted

I voted today. I'm glad to live in a country where I have the right to vote.  I will also be glad to see all the campaigning, or should I call it, mud slinging come to an end. I have no problem with a person having a passionate heart for their candidate. I have no problem listen to the the reasons why a candidate should have one of these important positions in our nation. I believe in government. But what I do have a problem with are the disrespectful words and feelings. I have flash backs of the grade school playground each time I hear the immature, petty name calling. But, that is another reason it is so wonderful to live in this country. Being Americans we have the right to speak our feelings, no matter what they are, even opinions about our leaders.  So today, I hope everyone exercises this wonderful privilege the founders of our nation gave us. Don't forget our grandmothers who fought with a strong voice for the right of all women to vote.

In any game, someone wins, someone loses. So remember, when this game is over tomorrow, and we know who won, please all of us, respect the office. If we want other nations to respect us - if we want to make it difficult for those who hate our country to harm us - let us show them we are strong.

We all can stand together as one.

I am glad that I can say...

 I voted today!

Time Change

Picture - Andy Partak Imagery  

Cool and warm

The sun is low

An inviting look

Early fall

I love the change

Time is different

Come to me

The creative soul

I cry out to you

Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak

Sleep Time

Cool weather makes me sleepy

I must leave my comfort zone soon

Under the blanket soft and warm

My mornings don't start until noon

Though I try very hard each day

To not let my day be a wreck

Comfort I find in this weekend

Since it's time to turn the clock back

Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak

Sunflowers

            

Image courtesy of Evgeni Dinev /FreeDigitalPhotos.net  

No matter how cloudy the day

I know how to perk up my spirits

Take a walk past the sunflowers

gentle giants of my garden

Bright happy faces always smile

no matter the day

Relief

Darkness in the shed

small and crowded

with me alone

                               my private place for relief




Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak

The Retirement Party

I hear everyone chattering as they go down the hall to the lunchroom. They are giving me a farewell potluck, a retirement party. Like it's really for me, they just like a reason to eat.  My last day of work, the day I have been counting down for this past decade. It’s finally here.

I can’t believe the company president is here today to go over something with me.  At five o'clock I'm gone. I don't care what happens. Why can't my replacement deal with it? When has he ever been available for me? So many times I’ve needed to discuss something, needed his signature,  he never showed up. Now, today, my last day, he decides to show up, and at lunchtime.  I certainly hope there will be food left for me when I can get away. I am sure no one even noticed I'm not there.  This is the price you pay for having the top secretarial position in the company.  The way I could silence a room by just walking in. Always being left out of the parties. Not being part of the weekly donut day.  Everyone jealous, thinking they can do this job better. I can’t wait to see what happens to my replacement.  Waiting for the day she calls me because she can’t find something, or doesn’t understand the database that I have been trying to teach her for the last year.  Oh, and no one understands how difficult it is to cover for the boss.The lies you have to tell.  Well, my lying days, my days of stress, are all over. I will never look back on this place.  If I had the opportunity to tell them just what I think, what an ear full that would be.

Finally I can get away to the lunchroom.  Some of my coworkers have eaten and are already leaving. Someone asked what was the reason for the lunch, but whatever the reason they want to do it again soon. All the Italian beef is gone. A little potato salad is left sticking to the side of the bowl. The only thing left is a whole bowl of untouched macaroni salad, which I totally hate.   

The boss hands me an envelope. My retirement bonus.  I open the envelope, trying not too look too excited, and slowly take a peek. One hundred dollars! After twenty years service, that is it? And they even took taxes out!

I've heard retirement day is the day you find out how everyone really felt about you. All their true emotions can not be contained on this day. I wait for someone to get up and tell the funny little stories I've heard at other retirement luncheons. The stories about how the person exploded the copy machine toner in their face. How they accidentally erased all the billing files. How when they started the job, they waited a week to ask where the washroom was because they didn't have to go until then.

The buzz of the crowd quiets down as they finish their cake.  My replacement requests everyone's attention. Okay this is it.  This is when everyone opens their heart with the stories and emotions they have for me. This is where I am now the center of the day, the special person who has touched them all in some way. The good wishes for my future as a retired person they bestow upon me. 

But instead of a "roast" and heartfelt feelings from my fellow workers, she asks that I reflect on my years of service, what working here and what everyone has meant to me. Finally the first time in twenty years my words are important, they want to hear what I have to say.

Okay folks...

Brace yourselves...

Here it comes...

How I feel about you...

I’m going out with a bang!







Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak

No Parking

I asked Mom again if I heard correctly. “Sure why not you’re off school I’ll take you to get your drivers license.” This was the day, crossing the bridge from being a kid to having a drivers license, so cool!  So what if I only got a C in drivers-ed, it was still passing. Okay, I couldn’t parallel park but most parking was in lots anyway.  Sure I missed class when they used the driving simulator but big deal I drove the real car.  Sure the instructor slammed on the brakes at the yield right-of-way sign; but the other car was coming from the left not right. 

The whole trip I went over everything I learned in class, everything Dad had told me.   Remember to buckle the seat belt, adjust the mirror, look behind you when backing up.  Then there is the trick they play when they tell you to park as if you are parking on a hill for the day.  My friend Sara flunked because she didn’t take the key out of the ignition.  Of course she would take it if she was really parking for the day, but the DMV officer flunked here. I pray that they don’t have me parallel park; please no parking.

The DMV was very crowded, no school so every mom had the same idea. Every kid promising, ‘I can always run to the store for you, or I can pick Jimmy up from school for you.’  Yeah sure, just give me that car. No more school bus just cruising through life now.  Starting to shake as I watch the red numbers flash across the neon board, 365 only three more.  I see my friend Ben coming back from the test. He didn’t pass.  I’m doomed Ben got an A in class.  The DMV officer pats him on the back telling him to try again next week.

Red lights blind me as 368 flashes on the big neon board. That’s me. I get up slowly and feel like I’m walking to my own execution.  Mom gives me that ‘you’ll do fine, but we can always try again next week’ look.  The short round DVM officer meets me at the door.  Without looking up from his clip-board, where my whole life story is imprinted on the application, he asks in his ‘I’ve asked this one hundred times this week’ tone “where is the car?”  I take him to the green Toyota, and again without looking up he looks at the tires, guess to make sure we didn’t drive here on four flats.  When he finally looks up from the car, the expression on his face looks like any human, he doesn’t really look like a monster. But I’m still petrified.

“Is this Fred’s car?”

“Yes sir,” assuming he means Dad, who is named Fred, and this, is his car.

“He’s your father?  Does he think you can drive?”

“I think so sir.”

“Well, then if he thinks so, I do too.”

"Yes!" I exclaim. "No parking!"

Ó 2012 Eileen A Partak