My Huck Finn is Adjusting

My Huck Finn is adjusting to living temporarily with me. He is an independent soul and has been going to work in construction every day. Tomorrow, he has an appointment with his psychiatrist to renew his medication. 

He is industrious and he has a good social network. As of right now, he knows how important the medication is to his wellbeing. He is sleeping in my spare bedroom. I don't want him to burn himself out, so I am trying to let him run his own show.

My daughter, Anne based loosely on Anne of Green Gables, is having what I would say is the opposite effect from her medication and appears to be manic. I may have to babysit my grandchildren, but I don't know.

As for me, I am working part-time and have the ability to put my work on the backburner. I am used to being a caretaker, as I have done it all my life. Sadly, there were many times, I did not take the medication, so I was hospitalized several times. There were times I did take medication and still wound up in the hospital, but not for long. So, the medication sometimes has to be adjusted.

I am working very hard to stay well for my children and grandchildren. I am keeping in contact with those who help me handling things. That doesn't mean it is not a rocky road.

Having the ability to reduce stress by not working is a wonderful benefit to my mental health as I am a senior citizen. I am working on my autobiography a little bit at a time so I hope it will inspire a movie. I am writing it as a book, but I plan to pitch it later as a movie. I intend to keep the characters anonymous in the book.

My Huck Finn Is Coming Home

My Huck Finn has not lived with me since he was eighteen years old. He works in construction and has a job lined up here in Michigan. I am praying he gets the insurance that he needs and that it is excellent enough to cover his medication. The scary thing is, I am not sure how much the medication is going to cost if we have to pay out of pocket initially.

We are going to make a trip to the behavioral center so he can get his meds renewed. I have a twin bed; however, my grandson, who has special needs, was jumping up and down on the bed and I couldn't get him to stop. When I sat down on the bed it went kerplunk, so Huck will have to sleep with mattresses on the floor until I get a frame.

For those of you who have an adult child or adult children, that have a mental illness, I am sure you can sympathize with me about the very real struggle to keep them on the straight and narrow especially boys. The journey my son is on also happens to be mine as well. We have to be a pillar of strength in order to stay healthy and continue to work. I have to be aware if he has difficulties while also watching myself for problems.

Two things have happened since I began this expose. First, we were able to get his medication. Second my Huck Finn was able to repair the frame. Lastly, he is working. We still need to learn if his insurance will be decent.

On another note, he is making progress in his move. He has to go to the Secretary of State to get a new license. He also has to do a change of address at the Post Office and finally he has to temporarily seek Medicaid.

All in all, it has been very productive.

MTA of Flint, MI Proposes New Routes

Flint MTA announces proposed changes to five primary routes | East Village Magazine

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Lethal Injection Proposed by Brian Kilmeade

I have been contemplating what an appropriate argument would be to change Brian Kilmeade's voiced opinion on national television that lethal injection would be appropriate for the mentally ill and the homeless. 

My thought is that those words were the first thing out of his mouth and as such have to be a part of his beliefs. How do you educate someone like that? The other hosts stood idly by. 

As someone who has been homeless and has a mental illness is it possible for me to alter his views or will my words fall on deaf ears? Society seems in such chaos now. The divisions have created a widening chasm and there is no in-between as extremism on both sides is creating no room for dialogue. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=19VPMzajark You can skip the ads when the icon appears. I chose this video because the speaker accidentally called one of the host an airhead and it may have been a Freudian slip. but I found it funny. I hope you can appreciate my laughter on that because I am human. I don't want to diminish the topic; however.

My parents both had mental illness, my children have it, but as a mother I cannot just walk away. I believe through education (life and college) both my children will thrive despite their difficulties. I also have two grandchildren that I pray will not face the horrors of a broken mental health system. 

In the State of Michigan, there is a push to privatize the mental health system, but at what cost?  Look at what has happened to our jail system when they privatized. I have been a part of the mental health system since 1981. I have worked part-time most of my life and I have done a lot of volunteering. My family remains my focus. 

More to come.

God Given Duty

I am compelled to write as though it is a God Given Duty to protect the disabled and less fortunate. I have a B.S. in English, language, arts from Eastern Michigan University and an associate's degree in business administration from Oakland Community College.

I have been an Independent Contractor since, 1988. I have had years of dry spells with little or no writing, but as I am in my sixties, I recognize that there are younger generations who need to know history so yes, it must not repeat itself.

One of Trump's policies would allow the USDA and DHS to turn records over that would identify the recipients who are on Snap and report exactly what is being purchased. And personal information like social security numbers and addresses would be revealed. This has never been done as HIPPA protects personal information, so Michigan Attorney General, Dana Nessel has joined several other states in filing an injunction preventing USDA and DHS from divulging that information.

If there were ever a time that is ripe for eugenics, the time is now. With the government's intrusion into people's lives, we are in a time that is frightening. Think this has never happened in the states before, look up information from the 1920's and 30's.

I have to not focus on this too much as it is late and like others too much dwelling on things is not healthy. I will write more for your viewing another day.

My Huck Finn

I have seen tattered clothes and shattered lives in my years with my Huck Finn, but he is happy now. I have grown right along with him. When he was a boy, he had somewhat of a Tom Sawyer approach getting his friends to do his chores like mowing the lawn and raking leaves. He didn't pawn off all his work. Many times, he did mow the lawn, rake the leaves and clean the gutters.

He tried to help his sister, Anne of Green Gables, to remodel her room. He is gentle soul at heart, but authorities don't understand him because he has an illness that changes his personality. Generally, law enforcement is not trained in mental health. Unfortunately, many long-term hospitals are closed. For many years, he struggled to understand that medication could make a world of difference for him.

I have been on the path of success before with him, I just pray he stays well. He is back to work now. In his youth, he skated through school literally with his skateboard. He loved to ride his bike and make dirt jumps with his friends. Keeping this child from the outdoors would be a hefty task and I always felt better that he was with his friends playing outdoors. What I did not realize was he was taking drugs with those same friends. When he was sixteen, I was already divorced, and I realized he needed help. I took him to the hospital once and his friends took him before the age of eighteen. In both instances, he was transferred, and they thought he only had a drug problem, and, in both cases, he was released twice after two weeks. It took a bit for him to graduate high school, but he did it and then took coursework in college.    

My Huck Finn is definitely a scrapper. He has pulled himself up by his bootstraps numerous times, but what is the illness that has plagued him so many times? Schizophrenia has absolutely wreaked havoc with him, but as his mom, I pray all the time that he will stay well.

I have been blessed to help him out as best I can, and the in-laws have been wonderful working arrangements with him so he can work. I am like other moms just hoping and praying he gets the help he needs to continue on the road to success. Temporarily, he is in a halfway house. He is doing construction work.

Huck Finn first saw time in a jail at eighteen. He hadn't even been out of the hospital a week. I was at the courthouse trying to locate my ex-husband for alimony. My son didn't understand why I was there. He took my car when I had gotten out. I had told security what he had done, but that only escalated the situation because the guard went to use the phone for backup when Huck hung-up the phone. 

More will be in my autobiography when it is complete.

I said goodbye to Billy

I was living in federal housing, and I met Billy through Fred, my partner who recently passed away.  Billy was excellent with music and photography, but he suffered from schizophrenia. He and I had an unspoken agreement that he would not drink or smoke marijuana when I was taking guitar lessons. He only forgot once.

He had me download a metronome on my phone. He loved purchasing guitars and had a music program on his computer.

Billy told me how he had an agreement with his mom that if he quit drinking and took care of himself, she would give him her Chevy Malibu.

He had long hair and a great personality, but his demons got the better of him. We would practice guitar for one hour. He was trying to teach me Tom Petty's song, "You don't know how it feels." Tom Petty - You Don't Know How It Feels [Official Music Video]

I never mastered this song, but I had fun learning. He seemed to get lost in Petty's lyrics. I played some songs for him that I had written and sang. We probably had lessons for six months. Billy was absorbed in drinking though he was told it would kill him.

One day, I believe it was a Sunday, a lady came to the front door and said she couldn't get ahold of her brother, which was unusual she said. I stayed by the door while she went upstairs. Minutes later, she came running down the stairs and said, "He's dead, He's dead." She didn't have her phone, so I let her use mine. She wanted to call her mom, but my own experience calling my aunt first when my roommate died, I told her, "I think you want to call the police first. By this time, we were both in Billy's room. He was blue and had no pulse. His veins were projecting from his face, and he was facing the couch cushion. The 911 operator was asking if I wanted to perform CPR. I told her, "No," two or three times. It was obvious he was gone.

Later, I bought a card, which some of the residents signed. I was glad to be able to give it to his sister. I found a part of me was dying in that building as there was so much sadness, poverty and loneliness around.  

My aunt set me up with a special needs trust, so I was able to get a condominium. I don't ever want to forget the friends I made, but being in my own place is healthier. 

I lost a friend

 

I first met my friend, Aaron in federal housing. For about six months, Aaron led a group of us seniors in dance. Ultimately, we were able to perform at Christmas time. I never became a good dancer, but Aaron knew it was important to have fun. 

Aaron had been a dancer on a cruise ship. I found him to be entertaining and fun. I got to know Aaron and learned about his brother, Drew. Unfortunately, Drew passed away of alcoholism.

I took Aaron to a radio station as he had cut a CD that I felt when understood deserved airplay. The radio station I took him to was not the right platform for his CD; however, I wanted to encourage him to keep trying, but Aaron suffered from depression and would drink like a fish. A sad thing is Aaron destroyed most of his C'Ds, but I still have one.

I wanted to be there for him as a friend. One evening Fred Cobb, my significant other, asked Aaron for help locating a fountain that I had as my daughter gave it to me when Fred accidently broke it. Aaron helped him order not one, but two fountains. I treasure the fountains.

Aaron thought about suicide and Fred went to Aaron's room to help him through it. Fred, a Vietnam Veteran, gave Aaron a hug. Fred said to me, "don't tell anyone, I hugged a gay man."

Fred suffered his own demons. We both cared about Aaron. He had aids and was facing a difficult journey. Ultimately, he was in hospice and passed away. Fred too was in hospice, and I lost him February 26, 2025.

I wanted to share Aaron's recording; however, I would have to invest in some additional equipment. Maybe one day.

Mass Transportation Authority Dedicates Center

 MTA celebrates the American with Disabilities Act (ADA) by dedicating a center for training and development. See eastvillagemagazine.org

Boulevard of Broken Dreams Played on the Radio

Green Day - Boulevard Of Broken Dreams [Official Music Video] [4K Upgrade]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Soa3gO7tL-c Listen to the song, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day, while you read this, you can skip the ad. You need to click the link. My children's hearts were broken, as my daughter, who had been riding in the backseat of my car with her boyfriend, got out of the car, and ran through the house in Howell, MI screaming, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy." 

My son seemed to know his dad was gone. We had been separated for about a year.  Our divorce was finalized when my ex-husband left without saying goodbye to the children. He had been residing in a foreclosed home in Howell, Michigan. We didn't know it, but he was taking off to Washington state. My son and I were living in our foreclosed home in Fowlerville, Michigan. 

My daughter got back in the car and was consoled by her boyfriend. My son was driving out of the driveway when the song by Green Day came on the radio. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He was 15 and held his emotions close to the vest.

In some ways, Fowlerville became the metropolis of heartache for my children and me. Listen to Nickelback, to understand how I was feeling. Someday (1) Someday - YouTube 

My life turned into shambles. I had been a writer with Steve Horton of the Fowlerville News and Views. I had also substitute taught in the schools. Fowlerville was my community. I found myself homeless. Livingston County Community Mental Health was going to let me live in a park. My son had been arrested and could not move to the apartment that I was able to sublet with a friend. I was on a waiting list in Livingston County for a year with no call for housing. I needed subsidized housing because of my mental health issues and because I could only work part-time. The apartment I moved into was with a fellow who had a spare room. I contacted management to reside there by making sure I could stay and manage the rent.

I found my ex-husband via Facebook ads that were on his page and my sister-in-law helped to confirm it. Truly our story is a story of love, heartache, disability and the strength to recover, but not without painful moments and the realization that my illness was passed on to my children. I am not a doctor, but my ex seemed to have a disability as well. Havoc was wreaked because I had a hard time realizing meds could make a difference and my ex had an anger problem.

Much of my life was spent in institutions. It began when I was sent to an orphanage because both my parents had mental illness. The nuns, Daughters of Charity, raised me, but it was not easy. I had a temper that I didn't understand, and I later realized as an adult, I had depression as a child that was not treated. I was only two when I went to the orphanage. I had bonded with my grandma and in particular my aunt because from about two weeks to age two I lived with my aunt and grandma. I resided at the orphanage for ten years. My father became a lifelong Veteran of the Disabled American Veterans (DAV). He served in WWII. My father remained steadfast and picked up my siblings and most weekends, I was picked up by my aunt. He was able to maintain a sales position at the old J.L. Hudson's Store in downtown, Detroit. There was no such thing as latchkey. Most of my weekends were spent with my aunt and grandma.

As I grew up in the orphanage, I was moved from the baby unit, Bethlehem, to other units or cottages. When I was moved to Nazareth at about age 4 or 5, Sister Margaret Ann used to play the guitar for me. As a child, Sr. Margaret Ann would teach me songs like Puff the Magic Dragon, Puff The Magic Dragon -- Peter, Paul & Mary ~ Live 1965 and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.

The nuns became my surrogate moms. So much so, that at eighteen, I thought about becoming a Daughter of Charity. I was not around men much, which would be a problem later in life. I recall on Palm Sunday; Father Tom would ride a donkey on the grounds of the orphanage. One year, Immaculata cottage had a flood and the children guided by Sr. Catherine Mary were removed by riding on the donkey to dry ground.

There was a summer camp, and one occasion Sr. Helen and Sr. Joanne were trying to get in the canoe, but it promptly tipped over and both nuns landed in the lake with their habits blown up like umbrellas around them. Everyone was laughing including the nuns.

Sr. Helen could sew, and she made this tomboy love the summer dress she made for me. I felt so pretty. It had flowers. I was honored to wear the dress with a puckered neckline and spaghetti straps.

When I was about nine, Sr. Catherine Mary asked, "Do you want to take ballet?" I thought she said belly dancing as I repeated it, and the cottage workers and sister laughed. I did take ballet, though when I found out we had to perform in front of an audience, I almost did not dance, but my Aunt Madeline did my hair while my mom also happened to be there. Thank God there were lights, and I could not see the audience. I remember the finale we danced to was, "You're a grand old flag." You're A Grand Old Flag Sing a long version for kids

Later that same year, I asked my dad for cowboy boots. This tomboy was not about to give up on that part of me that loved playing with the boys. I was a rough and tumbling girl. One of the benefits of being at the orphanage was that I had a social worker who was able to reach me and my temper through the token system. I earned a token or plastic colored key for everything I accomplished without getting angry. Initially, at the end of the week I would be given a prize. Ultimately, I learned I was not going to earn a prize, but I would have the tokens to remind me how well I had done with my behavior. Eventually, I never received tokens. One of the prizes I received was a scrapbook where I could draw, write or put whatever I wanted in it.

Perhaps, the nicest presents I received came from Sr. Joanne. She gave me a guitar not for behavior, but because she knew I had a real interest in guitar. It was a Yamaha classical guitar. I treasured the instrument. I learned to play some of the church songs I created a notebook with words to the songs and the chords.

I am still an amateur with the guitar, but I love writing my own songs. My ex-husband gave me a Fender acoustic electric guitar. I enjoy the instrument to this day.

Christmas time was a wonderful holiday season where we children had the opportunity to attend lots of parties. The Blue Pigs, as the police officers called their band, played music for us at one of the biggest events. I was always in love with music. One year, I received a James Taylor guitar book and a folk book.

I was on the news quite often and especially at Christmas time when S.S. Kresge, the owner of the five and dime store, let us shop at his store. He imparted to each of us kids, money to shop in his store. I still have a children's bracelet that one of my boyfriends gave to me from Kresge's later called K-Mart. Ironically, my ex-husband was the nephew of Harry Pete Cunningham, who became the CEO and named the store K-Mart. He and his wife Peg attended my wedding. 

I really did have a fairytale wedding as we had the reception in Birmingham, MI. After the reception, I was able to ask Tim, my-ex, if we could go on the carriage ride with a white horse. We toured Birmingham on that Friday night. Ah, but that is getting ahead of the story.

Returning to the orphanage, I recall I was so little and was seven years old, when Miss May who was a maid at the orphanage taught me a few things. She let me hang onto the center pole for the buffer and I stood on the cylinder while she buffed the floors. I felt loved as she smiled. Miss May was black and had pink pigment on her face. It was her natural pigmentation. She told me, "Never mix ammonia and bleach," when you clean the toilets, "it will kill you." Miss May asked, "do you know you are the same age as me," I asked, "how?" as she continued because, "I was born in leap year." Miss May was so brave that despite losing her husband to drowning at Camp Brighton, she carried on and did her work. Camp Brighton was owned by the orphanage.

Seven was a traumatic year for me, because my mom and the social worker were planning on me going home for my birthday, but tragedy struck again. My folks lived in Detroit and Mom took me to the school I would be attending. Unfortunately, my oldest brother, who had moved home the year before was brought back to the orphanage on my birthday because my mom suffered another breakdown. My twin brothers came to my cottage as Sister Margaret Ann wanted to give me a birthday party outdoors. The candles kept blowing out because of the wind. When I learned I was not going home then, my birthday became mixed with my emotions and for a long time, I remembered the day as snowing. My birthday is actually in August.

I remember Mr. Willie and his wife Miss May (not the same May). They were always cheerful and had words of encouragement. Their daughter, Miss June was wonderful to me. She and I would talk. I really hit it off with her.

Please note: If you enjoyed reading this so far, I plan to turn it into a book and possibly a film. Please provide feedback.

Grey Haired Advice

 Let not your past rule your present.

A poetry review of Joy Harjo, Three Term Poet Laureate

I recently had the opportunity to check out Joy Harjo's poetry book, Weaving Sundown In a Scarlet Light.

I appreciated not just the poetry, but the story telling throughout the book. Anyone who is not familiar with Native American literature will find an explanation of the poems at the back of the book are extremely helpful. 

Nature is intricately woven in each poem. I really liked, "Frog in a dry river" the personification is amplified in this poem. Ancestors and death are themes not only in this poem, but in many of Harjo's works.

I also very much appreciated, "How The Love Blows Through The Trees."  Harjo writes that this particular work was actually a song written during Covid. This poem is a reflection of memories spoken through her grandfather who talks about the wind. She writes, "Pass this love on, he'd say. It knows how to bend and will never break. It's the only thing with a give and take, The more it's used the more it makes." Having recently lost a loved one, I truly related to this work. I am blessed my loved one left me a recorded message to stay strong.

"Emergence," another one of her works that I can totally relate to having lived in a HUD building, "I am lingering at the edge of a broken heart, striking relentlessly against the flint of a hard will. It's coming apart..."

"Eagle Poem," is a poem of the "Circle of motion," which for me is the season of life. I am in my autumn, and I have learned so much through life, but there is more to my story. Her Circle of motion uses nature to walk through the seasons. Perhaps you are familiar with Vivaldi and his four seasons there once again is so much to be grateful for. It certainly doesn't mean we won't see heartache.

Poetry is not a read for everyone, but I believe if you take the time to read this book, you will find much enjoyment and much to find akin. The book is only 127 pages, but it should be read thoughtfully, or you will miss the meaning.

 

Fredrick Cobb

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