Carole Smith Turner

2020 has been a year of reckoning for me. Reckoning with myself. So much time to contemplate.  Now I know that no one gets to tell me how to feel about my childhood. No one gets to tell me when to feel what I feel or how to process my trauma. AND they don't get to tell me not to feel.  For the first time I allowed myself to FEEL the anger. I let the anger toward my grandfather out of the heart shaped box . I acknowledged it. I embraced it. I saw that it was good, not bad. It was appropriate anger. I saw the egg shells he made our tiny feet walk on. I saw the emotional manipulation he used to destroy my fragile grandmother and used to torment my mother. I saw the reason I don't sleep at night. I looked at all of it, examined it. I asked "What the fuck?!" and I saw just how much his presence and influence caused me to act in the same way toward my own family. I swallowed hard pills this year. And I started down the path of healing.  I'm still on that path.  People

How it started.. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Carole Turner (@caroleturner) View this post on Instagram A post shared by Carole Turner (@caroleturner)   How it's going... How it went...

Every Thanksgiving we take our Christmas pics. This year I wanted to take them in the Geek Parlor so the kids decided we'd just raid our closets and wear whatever the F we wanted. I mean, 2020 has been so INSANE so why not?  I love how they turned out.  Merry Christmas and good riddance 2020!!

There she was A heart shaped box I’d gone on a stroll  Over hills of grey  Like firm pillows And I found her   Ouch!  I cut my foot I see a spot of blood On my skin  it pooled I see the  sharp corner  Reflecting like a mirror Peeking from firm pillows   I see myself  In the sharp thing That rose from the grey Taller than me It became The heart shaped box  With a heart shaped door With a black heart shaped knob  Which I opened  And walked inside Red velvet walls So soft  The door shut behind We paused  The heart shaped box and me Sizing each other up I felt comfortable Free I was welcome  To stay or leave Put events away Safely here Inside the heart shaped box   I sat on red velvet sofas That lined the walls Like I Dream of Jeanie's bottle They said rest child I remembered my cut The blood was the sofas The blood was red velvet walls That called to me Unload memories Here they will keep Here they will wait The memories conspired  And hired fighters A time would come  For them to sho

It was Election Day, November 3rd 2020. Donna and I'd stopped in Houston and had a great visit with Esther and Trey, lunch with dad and were more than happy to leave the Reds of Florida and Louisiana for the Blues of California. We'd already voted so our goal was to forget election turmoil as best we could.  When we exited our rented Red Mustang Convertible to enter Hotel Royal in Long Beach California we saw the hotel and the entire street boarded up. We were later told it was for fear of civil unrest. We saw a shirtless man on a bike with a huge Trump 2020 flag flying.  " WTF? " I thought. " The REDS are everywhere! "  Later at the beach some guys were walking around saying " Fuck Donald Trump " and I chimed in. That's more like it. We weren't permitted to use the hotel bikes because of Covid, which we'd looked forward to. All the vintage clothing stores were closed because of Covid. Every restaurant had outdoor only seating bec