With Me

Poem: With Me

You can hold my hand and walk with me

Through this journey of my life.

You can sit in the seat beside me 

And hold on for dear life.

You can listen to all of my stories 

As we sit up late at night. 

You can clap out of pride for me 

When I do something right. 

But no matter how hard you try, 

No matter what u do, 

You can't take away the pain

Of what I'm going through. 

These demons that will forever haunt me,

These tears that I cry 

Are what's going to make me stronger 

And teach me the lessons of this life.

I know you didn't sign on for this

But but who else do I have?

You've never turned your back on me 

Through this rollercoaster that's my life. 

By Gina Jett-Baker

April 27, 2012 @ 11:46 AM

....and What Can Be Taken Away

This weekend should be a celebration for Mother's Day. I love my mommy, Delores Gilbert so very much. She's the best mommy I could have ever hoped to have. She's put up w/me for 44 years and thankfully, I haven't driven her crazy as of yet. So, HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY mommy! 

Unfortunately, May 7th & 8th are the saddest days of every year for me.  My heart wrenching sadness that comes with these two days began 15 years ago. Yesterday, May 7th would have been my mommy, Delores Belcher Jett Gilbert and my daddy, Burgess Jett's 50th Wedding Anniversary. They didn't get to celebrate it. Daddy did make sure though, that they made it through their 35th anniversary. You see, my daddy developed cancer. No one in the rest of his Jett family had any history of cancer but daddy got it anyway. Maybe from the water, maybe from all the years of spraying chemicals on his tobacco crops, or maybe just because God decided that was the path on which he would travel to go home to our Father in Heaven. Regardless of the reason, after a six month battle with cancer my daddy passed away due to cancer fifteen years ago on May 08, 2001. Loss didn't stop there. Five years ago, last night, my husband and I lost our nephew in a tragic auto accident. The pain and loss surrounding these two dates, May 7th & 8th are incomprehensible.

That first weekend in May 2001 was the best daddy had experienced in quiet some time. He seemed to be rejuvenated with strength. I didn't realize at the time but this new spurt of energy he had was what people refer to when they say, "They get better right before they go". Yes, it's true! I've seen it with my own eyes. They do get better! Giving you and maybe them a false sense of hope. The entire weekend is cemented into my mind. People came and visited with daddy. He was sitting up, talking, joking and laughing. He was in such good spirits. I was so very happy! Parrish, my husband, mowed the grass with the push mower (which daddy wasn't able to do himself but wanted done), then rested and we then said our goodbyes to go back home. Daddy walked me to the door and I asked him to give me that look, the one he always gave me when I was in trouble. He didn't want to but for some reason I wouldn't hush. I said, "Come on. Give it to me one last time. I know you're not mad at me but let me see it one last time for old times sake". I guess my subconscious knew this was the last time I'd be seeing my daddy but my heart didn't. He finally gave in and made the look. I hugged and kissed him and we said goodbye to each other. That was the last time! The very last time, that I would ever hear my daddy speak. The last time he would look at me. The last time I would get a hug or a kiss from him. I knew but I didn't want to know. As a spoiled daddy's girl, I could not admit to myself it would be the last of me and daddy.

In the wee hours of the following morning daddy drifted off into a coma there at home on the farm.  I couldn't believe it when we received the phone call that he was in a coma. The day before was too perfect for him to change so rapidly. However, that is the way goodbyes are sometimes. Daddy held on throughout the day of May 7th, 2001. He didn't go to Heaven on his and mommy's 35th wedding anniversary. He waited. Although, he couldn't talk, I believe he could hear us and was aware of the date and it's significant meaning. He waited until the evening of May 8th to finish up the long road he had been traveling. He used all of his strength to hold off on going home to be with his mommy, the rest of his family and our Father in Heaven. That day, May 08, 2001, was the worst day of my life. 

I stayed away from my childhood home place as much as I possibly could after that day in 2001. Although my mommy was still there at the farm and experiencing her own pain from the loss of her husband (which I hope I never have to endure), I couldn't bring myself to visit without being forced to go. That, in itself, is awful. If I did have to go, like for Christmas or Thanksgiving, I showed up late and left as soon as possible. The joy and happiness of the holidays had disappeared and they still haven't returned. I lost parts of my heart, my life and myself on May 8th 2001 and nothing can bring them back.

I can't say fast forward to May 07, 2011 because the time passed at a snail's pace. But ten years later on May 7th, I asked my husband to go with me to the farm. I wanted mommy to know that I understood her loss and I wanted to visit daddy's grave. I couldn't have ever imagined how that day, a day on which I was trying to show strength, would end with such tremendous tragedy. I think maybe if my husband and I had stayed home and waited until the next day or went the day before things would be different. Then again, realistically nothing my husband nor I did could change what occurred that night. 

After leaving mommy & my step-dad at the farm, Parrish & I decided make our trip a full circle....Monticello, Jackson, Lexington then back home to Monticello. My husband knew what a big step I had taken by going to the farm that day. He always tries to lessen my sadness so he took me to a place where I was always happy, my favorite restaurant Johnny Carinos. If nothing else, I would have a good meal, drink a Bellini, eat a piece of their mouthwatering chocolate cake with ice cream and chill out a little. Well, that did indeed occur but was short-lived. 

We had not been gone from the restaurant five minutes, when my husband received a call regarding a bad wreck in Monticello. He was asked if he would be able to come work it. At the time, my husband was a longtime accident-reconstructionist and trooper with the Kentucky State Police. When he received the call Parrish said, "Gina & I are in Lexington and have just now started home". He had just driven to the on ramp to get onto Interstate-75 South. There was no way, we would be anywhere close to Monticello for a couple of hours. I do not remember which police department contacted him first, whether it was the Kentucky State Police, the Wayne County Sheriff's Office or the Monticello Police Department. I do remember, during our drive home, he was contacted several times to come work the two-vehicle motor vehicle accident (MVA). Each time his response was the same. He wasn't home. 

Along the way home, we learned through the many calls he received that an accident reconstructionist was needed and there was a possible fatality. Parrish was one of only a few reconstructionists in the area, which is why he was being contacted. Finally, he was told that another reconstructionist would be coming from another part of the state. Still, we had gotten worried. We arrived home and without being there a total of five minutes, Parrish was called again. Neither of us could understand, since he had been told someone else would be working the wreck. Again, this call was concerning the wreck. Shockingly though, the content of the call was much different. This time, he was being asked the name of his nephew. Most people didn't realize that Parrish had more than one nephew.  When Parrish asked which one the response that came from the other end of the phone changed our lives forever. It was the name of his younger sister's son, Ryan Cody Bell. There were two boys with the name Cody Bell. The officer was having to make sure which family was to be contacted. This time it was our family. Parrish said he would do the notifications to the family. 

This accident claimed the lives of Ryan Cody and two of his good friends. These deaths happened in an instant when another vehicle crossed into Cody's lane hitting his car head-on. There was no time to say our goodbyes or prepare. Three lives were taken in a flash with only memories and questions of, "Why?" 

Cody and the married couple with him were all young. They were good people. They had their entire lives to live. Yet, they were taken away. Cody had finished his first year of college that week. He was a manager at a restaurant that he had been working at since he was old enough to have a job. He was a Mason and a Shriner. He was a preacher and bus driver for his church. Ironically, he and the couple who were with him had only been gone from visiting an ill parishioner for a few minutes when the auto-accident occurred. There's nothing left but memories, heartache, wishes and questions. 

So this weekend of Saturday, May 7th and Sunday, May 8th 2016, is filled with what would have been my parent's 50th wedding anniversary, the 15th anniversary of my daddy's death, the 5th anniversary of my nephew's death and Mother's Day. I'm thankful to still have my mommy, a wonderful step-dad, the rest of my family and my ever supporting husband. But I just don't have it in me to celebrate like most people. Death can take a long time or be as fast as lightning, either way those left behind die a little too.

Corruption: 2016 POTUS GOP Nominee

Talk about #LyingTed! Wow! Colorado's delegate votes for #TedCruz were nothing but a game of cheating and suppressing the political voice of #WeThePeople. I am disgusted by how openly blatant the powerful elitists are continually showing the corruption of #America's political system. I am glad   #DonaldTrump's running for the #Republican #POTUS nominee is bringing light of how the majority of this country's citizens are being ignored and cheated.

Colorado is not the only state where there has been lying, vote rigging and cheating during this election cycle. The America which our forefathers established has been gone for years. Sadly, we are just now seeing the blunt proof of the corruption in our political system. This is because the rich, powerful elitists no longer care whether or not the corruption is out in the open. They know the complacent population of the USA can do nothing to stop them.

In my opinion, a citizen revolt is coming but the establishment doesn't fear that the people will revolt. Maybe, I'm wrong! Maybe the people of this country will continue to be satisfied as meaning nothing to our government or country. I, personally, hope that we will at least be safe in our homes but we've also been slowly losing that battle for a long time too.

I'm not even going to start on the Democratic side of this election cycle. I'll save that for another time. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain

What It's Like to Have a Migraine

"Hello", was the greeting I received this morning as I awoke from another night of slumber filled with the constant turmoil of nightmares. This was not the greeting for which I was hoping. Along with memories of reliving a garish dream from within my subconscious, I was welcomed by my little "friend" who hangs around at least four out of every seven days. Actually, he is not my friend! He's more like a death metal drummer bored with his band mates for being unable to get their rhythm together; therefore, he sits at his drums gently tapping his drumsticks every now and again to act as though he's still engaged with the band. My "friend" is referred to as a migraine by many but I call him Hades. 

Yes, Hades! Some of you may not be familiar with the term Hades, so I will gladly open your minds to the word's meaning. This will give an understanding  as to why I chose this particular word to refer to my "friend". Hades is the realm of hell where the damned suffer everlasting punishment by being in a constant state of misery and torment. Hades is the simplest definition of a migraine...now you know.

Hades is constant. If he leaves me for a day or two without sitting in my head like the aforementioned bored drummer, I know without a shadow of a doubt that when he returns, the band has gotten over their setbacks and Hades is going to be playing those death metal drums full force. With every hit of the drums Hades will send tormenting throbs throughout my head. The constant pounding intensifies and speeds up to the point in which I can feel each beat of my heart in my temples and jugular vein. If I take a chance by looking in the mirror, I can actually see the rapid beating in my head and neck.i can feel the pain in my head like boiling bits of caviar.  I know this may sound impossible but it is true. 

Hades' misery does not stop there. Hades brings so many "gifts" when he's in full throttle. He doesn't miss one of Aristotle's traditional five identified senses: sight, hearing, touch, smell, and taste. Sight is so intense that not only is light brighter but the colors of everything I see are more vibrant. My eyes can clearly identify every shade of any color on a color pallet. It may sound great to live in so much color, which by the way, I really need because spring colors make me feel alive. But this is both a blessing and a curse. Hades makes any and all light brighter than a perfectly cut, clean, sparkling diamond. "Gotta wear shades" applies to a completely darkened room. The most minute splash of light sends an ice pick through my skull. Forget attempting to drive during the day or night. The sun will blind me and surprisingly so will clouds. At night even the dimmest of headlights will turn their focus on me and shine like gold in the clearest of streams. These migraine auras include halos that you would want to see on the heads of angels but instead these are part of Hades' malicious gifts. 

My sense of sound is amplified by a gazillion. Imagine the death metal drummer having a set of drums exactly like those of Tommy Lee of Motley Crüe and him striking every drum part at the same time as hard as he can with the cymbal going so fast that you can feel it in your throat. That my friend is what a migraine does to me. When you include the rest of the band playing their parts along with top of the lung screaming vocals you get what a migraine does to my sense of hearing.

While Hades is out and out visiting me, everything I touch sends tingles to my brain. Thank goodness, I have cats that are covered with the softest of fur who recognize when I am in agony with a migraine. They surround me with their softness. BabyG in particular has learned to curve his body around my head and purr to help ease the pain. I am not joking! He really does do this. However, just placing my head on a pillow hurts because my head is touching the pillow. Years ago, I drove when I was experiencing a migraine. During those times I could feel every tiny indentation in the slick steering wheel of my car. Imagine being able to distinguish every little notch. I suppose it's a good thing that I've never been around a porcupine during one of Hades' visits. Lol.

Geeez, my sense of smell during these times is unbearable. Even when my "friend" is not hanging around or visiting, my sense of smell is on heightened alert. I can distinguish between smells like a rabid dog on the hunt. Top on my list of migraine triggers are smells. A guaranteed visit from Hades is immanent if I come in contact with the following list of scents: diesel fuel, kerosene, emissions from the exhaust system of a damaged automobile, baby powder, people who take a "bath" in perfume or cologne, certain campfire smoke, candles, and last but not least, liquid shit fertilizer. I'm so sensitive to smell that I have changed the way I live.  

When I was younger, I couldn't wait to buy one of those expensive name brand perfumes like rich people wore. Obsession by Calvin Klein was my first purchase of fancy perfume. I saved my five dollar a week allowance for months in order to make the purchase of one of the perfumes which was locked in a cabinet behind the local pharmacy check-out. I loved the smell. It was my signature scent. Easy, since I was only able to afford one bottle of perfume. My bomber jacket carried the scent with me every time I wore it even after I ran out of it. 

As the years continued, my boyfriend now husband, showered me with gifts of every expensive perfume imaginable. Sadly though, as I aged, Hades became more prevalent in my life. My sense of smell intensified to the point where I gave every bottle of my perfume collection away to others. My husband had to give up his favorite  colognes because I couldn't handle any smells. He and I both have had to revert to using only the mildest scents of deodorant. I even have to bath in non-scented body wash. 

My sense of taste is also heightened during my "friend's" visits. I can even compare some foods to what I believe are their equivalent smells. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, when I have a migraine I can barely eat. The nausea is overpowering. Just thinking about eating makes me sick. I have learned the hard way to never eat one of my favorite foods while Hades is around. If I do, the meal is off limits to me in the future because of the sickening reaction my body had while experiencing a migraine. 

Hades is not my friend even though he is continuously by my side. I wish there was a way to get away from him forever, but it is my understanding that he will always be around. Until medical research gives me the ability to break up the death metal band in my head, I will never be alone...Hades will be with me!

Brian Creech's Cajun Seafood Boil a Vacation Success

Brian Creech took "The Creech Family Vacation" at Conley Bottom Resort and Campground located on beautiful Lake Cumberland in Monticello, Kentucky, to an entirely new level this year. Creech, who has been coming to Lake Cumberland with his family since birth 42 almost 43 years ago, with the help of his wife Tracy, offered up a bayou-style, Cajun Seafood Boil that would make any shellfish lover's mouth water. This was the perfect kind of supper for wrapping up a week on one of Kentucky's most beautiful lakes. The authentic feel was completed by the camp's location alongside the water and the presentation of the food.

Creech was determined to make this feel like a real Louisiana experience for both adults and children. The meal consisted of crawfish, crab legs, shrimp, summer sausage, bratwurst, corn-on-the-cob and potato halves with just the right amount of Cajun seasoning. Layered newspaper completely covered the picnic table which concealed the vinyl tablecloth underneath. The various layers of food were poured out onto the newspaper into two piles, one on each end of the table. The centerpiece was a bowl of spicy broiled mini shrimp. Creech and his eldest son, Logan, positioned two huge boxes at the end of each side of the table for the crawfish and crab leg shells to be thrown into, as well as, shrimp tails and corncobs. Utensils used for this authentic meal were, as you may have guessed, clean fingers and hands...well, at least they started out that way.

(l-r clockwise: Brookelyn Creech, Mia Tyra, Bethany Creech, Logan Creech, Savannah Tyra & Caiden Creech)

(l-r clockwise: Logan Creech, Savannah Tyra, Caiden Creech, Brian Creech, Brookelyn Creech, Mia Tyra & Bethany Creech)

Being a principal at one of Kentucky's Wolfe County schools, Creech took this opportunity to make this meal a learning experience for the children and adults. He demonstrated how to open the crab legs & crawfish with your bare hands in order to reach the edible meat inside. I have to admit, I didn't know how to do either. Creech stated, "This is something I have always wanted to do for the kids and I felt they were now at the age to really enjoy it". He was right! There were a few, "Yucks" and "I can't eat something that has eyes," in the beginning, but it only took a few minutes for the kids to forget about looks once they tasted the delicious secrets hidden inside. They enjoyed cracking the crawfish & crab-legs open as much as eating. Overall, Brian & Tracy Creech accomplished the goal of every educator, parent & vacationer...they made the trip memorable!

By Gina Jett-Baker

Best Icebreaker for Awkward Moments

Have you ever been with a group of people and experienced that awkward silence? Of course you have! We all have. It makes us all wonder what to say in order to get through the moment. I can envision the moments now. You walk around the room. You pull out your cell phone. You twiddle with your fingers. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom when you don't even need to go. I know that uncomfortable feeling of just wishing, hoping someone will say something. Face it there's not a whole lot to talk about after a few comments on the weather has been thrown out there for a conversation piece. The best icebreaker for those awkward social moments when the room gets quiet is only two words away. Now, what I am going to tell you will require a bit of initial embarrassment on your part BUT it has proven to work for me time and time again. Are you ready? Brace yourself...the answer is "shit stories".

Shit stories are the best icebreakers because everyone has one. You're currently in disbelief because I just said this but you're thinking to yourself, "OMG! This is so true!". Hahaha! Got your attention, didn't  I? Personally, I hate awkward silence. I always wondered what on earth could I say to get people talking. Finally, it dawned on me after hearing many shit stories throughout the years. Some people will tell stories on themselves, while others will tell them on friends or co-workers. The thing is everyone will laugh and start talking.  Even if your story is about you, you can save face by telling the story as if it happened to a made-up friend rather than yourself. However, as people start talking you're going to want to "one up" them. Finally, you'll admit to a true story of your own because people will be doubling over laughing at all the other stories. Now, that awkward silence has disappeared and any topic can be discussed because nothing is more interesting or embarrassing than a "shit story".

I can't share my very best stories because I need to have stories to use when I am in those awkward silence moments. I am, however, going to give you one that will at least assist you when breaking the silence.

Going away to college is the beginning process of moving away from home. I was happy to have a roommate in my dorm which automatically gave me someone to talk to. Luckily, Angie lived in our dorm one semester prior to my arrival and had made friends with several of the girls on our floor. I couldn't have asked for a better situation. I was included in group talks, food runs & University of Kentucky basketball TV nights. These ladies were awesome. The bathroom in our dorm was communal with many clean, private stalls for commodes and showers. This was the perfect bathroom set up for me...well, almost perfect! The one problem was that I was embarrassed to shit in a public place. I was terrified of leaving a foul aroma behind.  I know, it sounds crazy but I was completely paralyzed with this fear. 

Making the situation worse was that my house shoes were indistinctly mine. Ugh! I actually made myself sick by holding everything in until around 2:00AM.  I was sure all my dorm mates would be asleep by this time. I can remember vividly how I would stand for entire conversations because I knew one false move could lead to disaster. On these nights & days I could not even release gas because I might shart. Oh, the misery!

One evening while chatting with several of the girls, the subject of bowel movements came up in the conversation. Ha! Everyone was so willing to share their experiences and mishaps. The stories were extremely funny. I was in disbelief of bowel movements being discussed in public. When it was my turn to share, I just couldn't "hold in" my secret. Besides being assured that shitting was a normal part of life, my friends were concerned about the physical problems that I could endure by "holding it". Regardless, I still held strong to my routine. A few nights later the "pain" hit me. I suppose it was around 7-8:00 PM and I knew I was going to have to wait until the girls were all asleep. I guess I shared to much of my story and the girls noticed that I never sat the entire evening. Oops!

Around 2:00 AM, I decided it was time for my weekly trip to the bathroom. I walked the entire length of the hallway to make sure there was no chatter coming from behind the doors of the dorm rooms. When I was sure I was "safe", I gathered my soft, thick, Charmine TP & entered the bathroom. I went all the way to the last stall. Oh, the wonderful relief. Nothing could be greater! I was so happy that I had shit in privacy without being interrupted. 

While enjoying this serene moment, my worst fear occurred. I heard one of the bathroom doors open. I quickly reached down and picked up my house shoes & held my feet far enough up the stall door not to be seen. Someone urinated while coughing a few times then left. Thank goodness! I was alone again. About thirty seconds later, I heard the second door leading to the showers open. I again, grabbed my house shoes and lifted my feet. A voice coming from the opposite shower section of the bathroom, said, "I'm going to have to come back later. It stinks in here". Wow! Safe again. I thought I better hurry up and get out of there because I had misjudged and people were still awake on our floor. When I finished up & was getting ready to open my stall door, I heard one of the bathroom doors open for a third time.  Oh my goodness! What on earth am I going to do?  I heard not one but two voices! "Shew! Smells like something died in here!" came from one voice. The second voice didn't say anything distinctly but instead started laughing and coughing like the aroma was going to knock them down. These two people took their good ole' sweet time in the bathroom. I thought they were never, ever, going to leave. Of course, when they entered the bathroom I had immediately sat back down on the porcelain throne, grabbed my house shoes and lifted my feet in the air. I sat like this the entire time the two voices were echoing through the bathroom. I heard the door open and the voices subsided. I was safe! I knew I had to make a run for it this time. No hem-hawing around. It had to be at least 3:00 AM & I had early classes. I made a dash for the door with my Charmine in hand. I listened for voices. Without hearing any, I opened the door on the shower side of the bathroom. When I stepped out into the hall, I saw all of my friends gathered together holding in laughs of what they had done to me.

I was so embarrassed and there was nothing I could do. I felt not only my face become red but my entire body was hot. My friends explained that although they knew what they did was mean, they did this to help me. Help me? I was thinking that I'd never use the bathroom again. They wanted me to experience people coming into and out of so that I would get over the embarrassment. They also knew that physically holding it in was not healthy for me. They took the time to assure me that regardless of the lingering aroma...everyone has to shit!

Please share this story and follow my blog. At least give me some feedback as to your opinion of my blog. Thanks! I hope I have been of some help to at least one person.

Friends With Benefits...the Other Definition

We are all aware of the phrase "friends with benefits". If you're not, then I'll spell it out for you. The phrase "friends with benefits" is normally associated with a friend with whom one can freely have sex without there being any strings attached such as kisses goodbye, rambling text messages of love, or a follow up call the next day. Basically, it's a booty call where everyone ends up happy.  This is the original meaning of the phrase; however, I have found that the phrase has a second meaning which only leaves one friend satisfied and the other out in the cold. 

You may be a friend with benefits and do not yet even realize it. The second definition of this little phrase has nothing to do with sex at all. It simply means that you have something to give (a benefit) alongside your friendship.

In my opinion, the top five of benefits of the second definition are:

1. You're the shoulder your friends lean on when they are upset;

2. You're the bank your friends come to when they're short on cash;

3. You're the brain your friends turn to when they have school/work questions they cannot answer;

4. You're the technology whiz that can fix any computer or smart phone; or,

5. You're the partner in crime when your friends need backup.

The top five benefits can be placed in the order as you see fit but most of us fall into one or more category.  The problem with being the friend with the benefit is that your "friends" use you then forget about you until your services are needed again. Don't get caught up in this cycle because you will never get out of it.  You are thinking about it right now. You're asking yourself, "Which friend only contacts me when they need something?". Yes, your gut feeling is right. That's the person who takes full advantage of your kindness and never gives anything back in return...not even a follow up call. 

Those of you who who are always on the receiving end know you have a friend that is always there willing to do something to benefit you and you are taking full advantage of that friend.  If you're on the receiving end of the benefits then you are not a friend at all. You are one of the selfish people that people are hoping will someday mature enough so that they can cut all ties with you,

If you are the "friend with benefits" stop it right now! Find your own friend that can reciprocate benefits. The world's population is too large to be the giver and never the receiver.