My Story, II

Communicating feelings wasn't done often in our household. Uncomfortable conversations were brief and then swept aside, forgotten. Conversation at the dinner table was more like a recitation of facts than anything else. We may have gotten a low grade on a test and mentioned it, but there wasn't a discussion about why, or how we felt about it. It was a given that we needed to study harder.  Every now and then, us kids would begin to laugh at something, sometimes to the point of uncontrolled giggles.  I guess it wasn’t funny to my mom, because she would admonish us, which sent us into more giggles. It didn’t take long for us to be excused from the table and sent to our rooms.  I still don’t know why laughing wasn’t allowed, or maybe she wanted to control the laughter because she wasn’t included.

Fourth grade was my most difficult year.  I didn't like my teacher, and I was certain she didn't like me. In all probability I wasn't being singled out; it was most likely the teacher’s own outside influences in her own life and/or maybe teaching lost its luster for her.  I couldn't wait for the year to be over!  But my parents’ attitude was just suck it up and behave.  Between my issues with my teacher, and whatever was going on at home, this was probably key to my own parental issues. I had a vague expectation of support in dealing with a difficult teacher and instead it was more of the be quiet, do your work, don't raise a ruckus from my parents.

Fifth grade was much better, my teacher, Mrs. Whiting, had a love for teaching, and did everything she could to teach us, push us even further than we imagined we could go. I excelled at reading, which made most subjects easy for me.  At a parent-teacher conference, she recommended I skip a grade and move into seventh grade the following year.  Mom was adamant, and said no.  She didn't give any reasons.  Looking back, I can't help wonder if she was feeling inadequate because I was doing better in school than she had??  

Junior high was three years of trying to fit in. Because I was shy, I didn't speak up much, so I wasn't part of the kids who studied. Which left me being more of a field rat. That was the term for the kids who hung out on the lawns during lunch. Yes, we were the not quite good, or not quite fit in, kids.  By Jr high, I was more conscious about differences in other families, differences within our own family, and began questioning things in my mind.  But with nowhere to turn for advice, it all stayed in my head.  And expressed itself in not so model behavior.  Teachers ruled the school, and I didn’t break any rules, I studied hard, but I could feel myself ready for something different to change my reality.

To me all this seemed so normal, and yet there were undercurrents I didn't understand as a kid. I just did as I was told, because that's what I was taught to do without questioning why. They were the parents and they knew how to raise kids, right?  And being a kid, I thought every other household was the same!  

My Story

My mother was a force to be reckoned with. All my growing up years were spent quietly watching and wondering about life. I spent a lot of years reading books and enjoyed going to school.  It’s only in my later years that I recognized things for what they truly are.  Things Mom did for the family was also all about her, and her need to control things.  Growing up, I didn't consider her own growing up years. But lately, I have come to the conclusion that there was some childhood trauma she never dealt with.  Which was probably the cause of her inability to express or deal with emotions in a healthy manner, and why she has to be in control.

Looking back, I can see how she controlled family and things around her. Her compulsion to keep things clean enough for the Queen to visit. How her home and by extension her children were to look to neighbors and friends.  There was an emphasis on impressing people. While I was living it, I couldn't put it in any context, it was how I assumed everyone lived. But what did I know, I was a kid.  There were always projects going on; her way of getting things done was to say “I think it would be nice if ….” And expecting people around her to read her mind, to know that she wasn’t sharing a thought, she was dictating an order.  Again, I thought it was normal, I was just a kid.  I can see it now through adult eyes because just recently she told me “That closet door stays closed if you lift on the handle.” What she was really telling me was “get up and close that closet door” but I no longer respond to those.  If she asks “will you close the closet door?” I will.

She liked sewing clothes, and sewed for all of us. But she also decided what we would wear going out. For a long time, back in my 20s and 30s, I thought it was amusing that she sewed and dressed us all to match.  There’s a photo taken of our family, we are all wearing the ugliest brown plaid, dad in a shirt, mom and us girls in dresses.  The Golden Gate Bridge is in the background.  Despite the ugly clothing, it’s a fav photo (its because of the bridge!) Matching dresses for Mother’s Day. Red, White and Blue striped tops. She wanted us all to look cute.  We dressed up on Sundays, to visit relatives, and whatever excuse she had.  I was in 7th grade before I was allowed to wear pants to school, and that was only on Fridays!  As I look back, it sits differently now. 

I never minded pitching in and doing chores. And that served me well in my own adult life. But as the eldest, I had the most chores. I can't remember what my siblings' chores were while I was out mowing the yard when I was 10.  Saturday mornings were spent doing chores. Sunday mornings were spent at church. Sunday afternoons were spent in our rooms reading or doing something equally as quiet.  After dinner, if our homework was done, we were allowed to play with neighbor kids until the streetlights came on. It was the 70s, and we all felt pretty safe.  This was how life went, until I hit my teens. 

........ And that's how my story starts. It's a work in progress, I hope I can continue it!

Dreary Days

Thunderstorms here in the Valley of the Sun can be exciting and memorable.  But when you live here where the sun shines most of the time, the dreary can make you feel as if you need a nap!! 

"I am"... I said to no one there

And no one heard at all not even the chair

Neil Diamond sang it well, captured that feeling.  Sometimes we're on our own and feel as if no one is listening. 

But He's always listening.  Thanks, God.

The Illusion

I like to think I have much to share. But is that an illusion?  I keep trying to find a place where I can be me, and be happy.  

I share pieces of myself and the posts generate hits but doesnt seem to reach anyone. But then again, sometimes others reach me with their posts and I don't let them know, at the least, or reach out, at the most.

I am just struggling to get back to the real me, the me I liked. And maybe that won't happen and I need to find another new me.

I just don't want to be the me I am right now, trapped in this space of waiting for the next shoe to drop.  And worse, knowing that it could be this way for many, many years. 

Maybe that's the biggest fear of all. Trapped in this suspended animation point in life, caring for a mom who wants what I can't give. I can't and won't build a real relationship with my mom. There wasn't one growing up.  

It was difficult discovering after a hug that my body shivered in revulsion afterward. And difficult to come to the understanding that it wasn't something wrong with me, but something wrong so many years ago.  The behaviors that put that shudder in place aren't gone, or changed, or even acknowledged.  I am still forced to deal with them, to be vigilant with what I share in order to protect my peace. 

Walk in my Shoes

I didn't recognize it for what it was

But I knew something wasn't right.

I was better once I moved away

But I had no idea all I did was bury it.

And now it has come full circle. 

I am dealing with so much. And everyone else is  .... glad they're not having to do it? ... that they just on with their lives and forget the niceties:  does Grandma need anything? How are you doing? 

It reminds me of a song by the Wreckers:

I am slowly falling apart, I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start. And you might  think its easy being me, you just stand still look pretty. 

Because of circumstances, my phone is always DND. Take today, its a mom visit day, I'm going to arrive in 90 minutes but she's busy texting me about this that and the other. Twice.  So I already know before I even get there she's going to be hyped up although I don't know the reason behind it. She asked for me to shop for pants for her so I did. I brought her four pants and one top and a bra.  And yet the first thing she said was "you didn't bring any toilet paper?"   I brought her 18 rolls 10 days ago. 

Now that its nice, I take her outside and we sit and color. But when she's hyper, her mouth never stops. We go back in and even though the TV is running, she still doesn't stop talking.  I believe this happens when she realizes that I am not telling her things. So she starts babbling to see if I will talk. Just another thing in her bag of tricks. 

The truth is what's difficult for me. From the outside our family was Ozzy and Harriet. They provided food, shelter, the usual things, but there was no emotional support. (I've mentioned this before). 

Its hard to draw a fine line of still appearing to be there, to show care, without giving what you never received. 

I knew something wasn't right

I moved away and escaped for a time

Now I tell myself I have adult answers and I can let go.

But it's very difficult to let go of someone who's still playing the same old games.

Mom keeps people compartmentalized. No one sees the same side of her. She did that to us kids. And the grandkids don't see that at all. She does the same with doctors and staff at her facility. Different MO for different people. 

I am slowly falling apart. 

She's 88, her father lived to be 104. I could realistically be doing this for another 10 years. 

I wish you'd take a walk in my shoes for a start. 

Recovery Day

So many memories pop up from time to time now that I'm looking at things through different eyes. 

Today I was reading a book (like always!) and a daughter was caring for her mom after a trauma. And it was a vivid memory that popped into my head.

My sister had no problem staying over at mom's and sleeping together in mom's bed. It was a four bedroom house, and all of us kids had left home. And I shuddered.  A few years back, at a destination wedding, I was forced to share a room with two twin beds with my mom. And it was more than I could endure. 

I know that my boundaries are normal, but mom has a way of asking things that make me feel as if *I* am the one who's lacking. Or maybe that's an old childhood feeling still stuck in my head. Or the way its always been.

I spent much of the day feeling as if I was recovering. I'm tired and feeling chilly, but its my emotional bandwidth that keeps struggling to keep up with my logic.

I was always the odd man out in our family. I was made to feel that my disruptiveness was a sign of me doing something wrong.

I'm still learning to navigate the emotions that have led me to realize it wasn't me. I know I'll get there one day, here's hoping its sooner rather than later.

The YoYo Affect

My doc is busy switching meds on me. He started me on a diuretic that took two weeks tonadjust to some mild side effects; now I'm on a calcium blocker and ugh, another two week adjustment period.  This gets old really fast!!

It feels like my whole day is spent logging what I eat and drink, my BP, and any symptoms. After every meal, I have to walk 10 min minimum and log that too. 

Granted, with all the data condensed to a yellow legal pad, its a good summary to bring to show the doc.

I woke up early and lay in bed trying to "listen" to my body. Was that a creak? Wait, what was that gurgle? Are my wrists or ankles swollen? (Its o'dark hundred, I can barely *see* my ankles) My throat, is it just dry? or is it sore?  I hope I'm not catching something.  Soon, its time to get up and start my log for today. 

Changes in a body as it ages aren't always fun.  But it helps to pay aytention and have a list for the doc.  

Hello, Monday!

Claiming my day for me. I spent an hour or so contemplating what to wear to a wedding in Sedona in November. I don't want to buy a dress I will never wear again.  I got it figured out, black dress slacks and black sweater topped by a dressy denim jacket. 

Of course, then I decided if I'm going to wear a blazer type jacket I need a dressy brooch. So I dug out moms box of jewelry and found a nice black and turquoise pin. And promptly dropped it. 3 stones fell out. So now a trip to a jewelers is in order. Always something. 

A little more clearing out of things I dont want out away, arranged them. 

A review of my blood work labs 30 days apart; a necessity to see how my single kidney is performing.  So far, so good.

Laundry, change bed sheets, wash blanket to be ready for fall/winter. And a little time researching a person's intuition and if it can become stronger (yes it can!) But it requires lessening stress, more quiet time, and time in nature as needed.  Hard to arrange for it when you're busy doing other things. 

A full Monday!

Just Bein' Me

I am an old soul. I am also an empath, and highly intuitive.  Crowds and noise are my downfall, they drain a lot of my energy.  I consider myself different from others, but rarely discuss it or explain it to others. 

But that never stopped me from exploring it. It also helped learning that there *are* others like me. Which led me to feel less guilty about the time I need to spend alone in order to maintain my own peace.

There are different aspects of being an old soul and empath in the greater scheme of things. We "often operate in the background, subtly shifting the atmosphere of a room, a family dynamic, or a workplace simply by introducing a peaceful, non-judgmental presence." 

"From a spiritual standpoint, the divine purpose of old souls and empaths is to serve as anchors of healing, quiet wisdom, and deep compassion in a chaotic world."

That's a heavy statement if you're having to bear these things, to carry them out.  Learning these things makes it both easier and harder at the same time. Being given these gifts has made life uncomfortable. I was the kid on the outside when it came to my mom. Did she pick up on the fact that I was different? And did that difference disturb her own soul?  Trying to figure out and get to the bottom of these kinds of things may get me a few answers, but doesn't resolve anything.  That's something meant for me alone, it seems.

As I emerge from this time, unburying myself from emotions that have no resolution, I feel as if I can be me again.  I've mentioned my decorating and such. Yesterday, I reassembled my display case and unpacked a portion of my depression glass.  I finally decided that it isn't important if I use them or not. I like them, they give me joy and that's enough. 

I can just be me.

Mind Games

Do you ever play silly mind games with yourself??  I do.  It might sound weird, but sometimes I'm the queen of weird.

Years ago when I was doing a lot of time at the gym, if I reached a specific goal that day AND stayed under 1400 calories, I could have a half cup of Cherry Cordial ice cream.  Or, in order to have a Diet Coke, I have to drink a bottle of water first.  (I still do this one)

Sometimes, around the house, there are all these little projects that need to get done.  A letter to be mailed, something put away that goes in a different room, just random things that are quite easily ignored.  

So I decided that it was time to tackle these pesky things. My mind game was if I touched it, I had to deal with it right then.  

It makes the day go quick, and those little things all get done. Makes for an odd "to do" list, but some pictures and a basket were hung.  Did I finish them all? Nope, but something is better than nothing. 

And as usual .... my plan was derailed midday as I had to tackle stuff for mom. There's a bit of resentment residue because I'm having to jump through hoops to help sell her house. In this digital age, mom didn't get it. Places sent her receipts for repairs via email, and she didn't keep them.  When she first bought her house and was handling repairs, I didn't follow up on things. I thought she knew.  But as I look back, I can she was struggling before she moved here, but masked it very well.

This type of stuff is what causes resentment to build. It's implied that because I live near mom, its up to me to handle her shit. And while the handling started slow, it got to the point where I am handling everything.  And often at my own expense.  Like driving. Sure, a tank of gas covers that portion of the expense, but what about wear and tear, or the tires I had to purchase?  

I've had all those conversations in my head. "Its little things, she's my mother, I have nothing better to do."  But as I am the one doing, my brother goes on vacations to Hawaii, camping in Cali, you get the picture.  Easy for resentment to build.

I have created safe zones, and days, where I don't allow those things to interrupt my days off from "mom stuff".  But it does interrupt. My own plans get derailed and I'm back in the throes putting mom's needs above my own.  So, yes, resentment builds. 

And now its off to dig up more papers and make more calls!!!  It's not something I can change, so I just do it. Then move on. 

Treasures

"A purchase becomes a treasure 

when you know the story behind it."

I had an idea from my friend AL.  Everyone has stuff that has meaning, yet the next generation might not know the meaning.  Leaving long notes or stories on every item would look ... cumbersome. 

The idea?  Leave a small sticker with a number, then write it in a notebook. That leaves more room not just for facts, but the story as well! 

I was cleaning the garage and found a tote with some fireworks in it. These are leftovers from my son, and I know he bought these in Indiana before 2004.  So they're old. AL recommended I soak them in a bucket of water to render them useless. When I got thr tote outside, the tote there was this sexy curved bottle that looks old.  So I filled it with these wooden beads.  Mostly a boring story.

But it reminded me one hot, humid summer in Ohio, my son was gone visiting his Dad. So I decided to go in and vacuum his room (because moms vacuum better than sons!) There I am vacuuming back and forth, back and forth and then BOOM! My vacuum exploded!  Turns out that my son liked to know how things worked so he took them apart, including fireworks.  I'm guessing some of that powder had slipped into the carpet. Talk about shocking!!! 

Without this context, maybe the bottle gets tossed as junk. With context? Maybe someone would like it.  I know it won't be my decision, but it helps answer those questions I had with mom's stuff.

I am going to assume that photos need very little context so I'll concentrate on the odd things hanging around my house.  I started yesterday, and am going to try to do just a few items a week.  

I don't know the plans my son had for this bottle, but he stored it in the tote with some fireworks.  Because this suits my quirky decor, I'll keep it. 

Lost, Then Found

I once was lost, but now I'm found.

A simple line from a very old hymn, Amazing Grace written in 1779.

It's a deeply profound statement if you've ever felt lost.  And find your way back.

Years ago, I had a different blog with a theme of creating art.  My reasoning might have been questionable, but it was to create purposeful art in different forms: photos, sharing thoughts on love and other subjects, poetry from time to time.

When I began, I had been out from under my mother's thumb for close to 20 years, and close to 10 years away from my ex husband. And felt I could do as I pleased without being judged, given permission or being censored.  If Mom saw it today, she would call it shameful. My ex would ...  do I care what he would think?? 

Discovering that it was still out there hiding on the "interwebs" has lifted my spirit. Along with making choices in changing/adding to my decor ..... I guess you could say I'm becoming more of a bohemian hippie! 

Long live the 70s!!

And now, there's a decision to make: leave well enough alone? Or start creating again. And I'm torn. Being creative takes time and effort. And I'm not sure its in me. But then I checked viewer stats and even though I hadn't post in seven years, I was still getting hundreds of hits.  

Maybe the answer is going slow, give a few tries, see how it feels to me. There's beauty in everything, if you take those few moments to find it. 

"Photography is not what you see, 

but what you make others see."

Maximalist Walls

I like stuff on my walls. And while I like a bit of order, I always mix it with hodgepodge. It wasn't a word I knew until recently. But I like it. Maximalism. 

A few months back, I was packing up knickknacks and items that look cluttered.  But I don't mind it on my walls. 

Yeah. I'm a little weird.

Today on this little bit of wall I went to town and hung a few odds and ends. And got another empty box!  

There's an old skateboard key hanging there, and a few keys with interesting shapes. I hung two little pill boxes on ribbons, added a gold ribbon to hang a hand mirror, and pins for the tiny porcelain mirror, and two old fav photos -- my daughter and granddaughter. The frames covered with flowers were a dollar store find 20+ years ago. 

There were seven more frames in the box, so I'll be debating what to do with these next! 

In another box, I found an open weave turquoise scarf with a note from mom's sister Christmas 1960.  My mother was the kind who saved things for a special occasion.  I'm guessing this has been in a box since 1960. In the same box, two hairnets from the 1950s. Not sure what to do with those. Not quite in my wheelhouse!!

The scarf I draped over a large picture frame where I have a different set of maximalist photos displayed.

I needed to do a little fun today - its been cloudy and rainy at times. I saw my doc today, he's making another med change. *sigh*  we shall see.

Girl Scout Leader

I was a Girl Scout leader for 5+ years when I lived in Ohio.  For every outing, every project, we had badges and patches. 

I kept them all and sewed them onto this puffy rain jacket.  It was the perfect jacket for Ohio rains and cold winter outings.  Every patch had a meaning, and a memory. 

I've been at a loss as to what to do with this relic - so I snapped a few photos and stuck it in the Goodwill box. *sigh*

Why is it so hard to let go of some memories?  I have had this in storage since 2004. But having come to some realizations about my childhood, and myself, I think I like what it represented to me. As a Girl Scout leader, I had finally grown into someone I liked. I had a good group of girls and one of the other moms and I had a blast teaching while having fun. We helped the girls grow, and in return, we grew as well.  

Out from under my mother's control, I was at peace with who I was, who I was becoming.  And I am so grateful for this time in my life.

Might Have, Could Have

Might have been's and could have been's.  Two entirely different things and yet they could almost be the same. I've been thinking about those things lately. 

What is the difference? I like to think could have beens are based on our own choices, and might have beens are a result if someone else's choices. 

Things like my childhood might have been different if mom had made different choices, or faced up to her own childhood issues or traumas, whatever they were. And I could have had a different married life if I had chosen to stand up to mom.

When you start looking back, you start seeing the might have's and could have's. Every choice we make has consequences.

It's a bit odd and unsettling to look back at things, life events, through adult eyes and see things differently.  

One of the things pondered today was how I dislike any kind of birthday recognition. I don't mind it being acknowledged, but parties, cakes, presents are not my thing. That feeling might have been different if mom had treated my birthday differently. My sister had parties every year, not me. And  birthdays might have been different if I had chosen to ignore the past and moved on. But I didn't.

Despite all the might have's and could have's in our lives, our choices can make a difference going forward. Acknowledge the past, and learn from the past. Just don't let it hold you back!

Observer or Participant?

People as a whole are so different, coming from all walks of life, doing many different things. But one of the differences standing out to me today is:

observer or participant?

Which one are you?

In the bigger picture, I consider myself an observer. Never in the thick of things, always on the outer rim looking in. 

Is this a trait of people who are considered creative? 

Or, depending on the situation, be more participants in some things, observant in others? 

Photography was a way for me to have a reason for being observant without having to explain what I consider my neurosis. Not that I do much of that, I just am who I am.

To me, being a participant feels as if doing so much, having activities often, you miss the smaller, subtle things in life.  Or maybe its just a depth I sense isn't quite there in participants.  

As an observer, I often feel compelled to photograph or write about things participants might have missed.  

And maybe its all just how it all worked out as a result of my childhood, always being an observer and never feeling known by my own mother.

In mom's old memory box, most of these items just laid on a shelf. Her memory box hung in her bedroom next to her bed, so no one ever got to look at it. Some of the things were nothing I wanted to keep (like the  box of hair!!)  but these seemed more meaningful.  

My grandmother's high school ring from 1928, and the abalone ring she wore during high school.  My dad's baseball pin, his valedictorian medal. The ID bracelets mom and dad exchanged probably in high school. I added my own high school ring and the ring my son used to wear. Decided on the shadowbox frame because none of it would fit in a scrapbook!

Another literal way of showing how I'm more observant than participant.

TV in the Old Days

I miss TV in the "old days".  We would head back to school and there would be TV ads for upcoming shows starting mid-September.

If you were like me, you wrote down the ones that looked interesting, and waited for next week's TV guide to arrive so you could plan your tv watching week.  If you were lucky, there would be an article about one of the shows, giving you an inside look behind the scenes!

There was a regular pattern and flow to how the series went. It started at 22 or 23 episodes in a season, which carried it to May, then reruns all summer and it started again in September. 

We had our favorites and some are very memorable.  Sunday after dinner it was Mutual of Omahas Wildlife Kingdom and then a Disney movie. What a great lineup for a chunk of family time before a busy week started the next day!! 

Stations were actively putting shows in the right time slots to keep viewers tuned in. Take for example Happy Days, followed by Laverne and Shirley, Three's Company and Taxi.  A solid comedy lineup that kept us glued to our TV.

There were so many wonderful, classic TV shows in the 1970s and 1980s.   But with all things, change is a part of it. To be honest, I don't look forward to many regular prime time shows any longer. 

Doesn't mean I don't enjoy TV, I just happen to like being able to watch on my own time!! 

But I still miss those old days where life was more of a surprise.  And planning your TV week allowed for structure, a plan, your TV watching felt like it was done with purpose. When your show was over, you went back to doing other ordinary things.  With streaming, how easy is it to unintentionally binge hours worth of TV? 

Sometimes, I miss TV in the old days.

When Things Pile Up

Isn't it odd how if you leave one dish in the sink, the next time you have a dirty dish its easy to leave that one too?  Eventually you end up with a pile.

Then with so many dishes in the sink, you don't clean the sink either.

What a downhill slide that becomes! 

Then when you finally clean up, you hate leaving that first dirty dish....... what a never ending cycle!

My mom was the type who cleaned every dish, wiped down all the counters and the stove every time she took a dirty dish to the kitchen.  Which meant she did a lot of cleaning. Every day. All day.  So it seemed.

While I vowed not to be like her, sometimes I go to opposite extremes and yep, that kitchen sink gets full, the counters are messy. But I don't spend hours cleaning every day.

There's gotta be a happy medium, I just haven’t found it yet!!

Have you??

PS: its the same with laundry!!  

Transitions

Now that fall is here, its time for a few transitions.  Its cooler, which is good. But its not quite cool enough for blankets in the bed. Hence, the transition. 

Yesterday it was 57 degrees at 5am. Today its 72 again.  Transitions. 

Our weather was cloudy and rainy at times and raises our humidity. And even though the thermostat was at a normal number, I had to lower it to help with the humidity.  Transitions.

After my treadmill was serviced, even though I had already taken a morning walk, I had to take a spin on the treadmill. I felt that the next day!  Transitions. 

I'm trying to change priorities in my life and put myself first. Sometimes reality gets in the way - I had to fill out a real estate form that took me 2 hours. Today's another day. Transitions.

I've always hated change. But when I change my thinking, transitions is a much better word. 

May your day be filled easy transitions!

Fall Is Here!

This morning when I woke up, it was 57 degrees---- Fall is Here!  Finally!!

I took a walk around noon, 70 degrees, sun is shining high in the sky.  And I felt so good!

I was searching on Google today about old souls and intuition. I have allowed my mom so much of my time and my headspace that my intuition seems to be hibernating. No more. 

I have to be me. And I want the me I used to be--- not this current version that has turned into the person I was before I left California.

I never wanted to be like Mom and found that moving away was the only way I could become me. She had a way of stifling things because of how it looked to others, her church friends, the neighbors, you get the idea.  That was never me. And escape was the only way out.

But as I write this, I know that there will still be days. For a time, she channeled her 4yr old self and clapped her hands asking for a huggy, then worked her way to saying "I love you" hoping I would say it back?  

Lately she's taken to grabbing my hand as if to keep me there and profusely thanking me for visiting.  But all this is decades later than when I needed it.  Now I can't say those words just because she's trying to manipulate me into saying them. As usual, its about her needs -- she needs to hear the words. 

I've learned I need to protect my peace in order to be true to myself. And if that means avoiding things because it fulfills her needs, then so be it. In the meantime, I am going to rejoice in the lower temps, take some extra walks, and enjoy this fall season!!

Lost Bravado

Exciting day for me, my treadmill is being repaired!  It has intermittently cut out at times and I figured it was dust infused on some of the sensors.  I'm a terrible treadmill mommy --- and didn't do any maintenance or lube and its been 4 or 5 yrs! 

To be honest, I haven't used it on a daily basis either.  *sigh*  I should have.

At first, I figured I could DIY because a Google and YouTube search said it was "oh so simple, remove the cover and blow out the dust ".  Once I saw what Zach from Fit Mechanical had to do, yeah, glad I didn't make the attempt!!!  

A few years ago, maybe I would have attempted it.  

When did I lose my bravado??

Thanks, Zach, for fixing my Beast!!

Resentment Happens

Resentment is something that happens with caregivers.  If you're caring for a loved one, a lot of things fall back on to the caregivers. Having resentment doesn't mean you don't love or care about your loved one.  Its more a byproduct of all the things going on.

It's Saturday, a day I don't do caregiving in person with mom. But it doesn't mean the day belongs to me, either.  Because caregiving isn't what's done face to face for a couple hours and you're done.  And that's where my resentment comes in.

Its the fact that there's never an end to the list of things to be done.  Today, I have to learn how to use Zelle to pay the landscaper who is caring for mom's yard; even though her house is up for sale, it doesn't stop.  Tuesday she has a dental appointment. And because she is how she is, she can't seem to handle doing anything on her own any more. I will be sitting and waiting in the dental office. 

Yesterday it was an hour's conversation about selling her house and how its all going with my brother.  We don't agree.

In the meantime, Mom has all day every day to think up things she wants or needs. Going into assisted living doesn't provide for all your needs. You still have to buy toiletries, and I'm mom's pack mule for all those things as well. Then there's craft supplies, puzzles, books, because she can't operate her iPad very well to do free things, like Kindle or solitaire 

Its hard not to have resentment. I want to give her all the helps she needs, but then she becomes a full time job with no time limits and no retirement for me.

I have resentment over things that shouldn't matter, but does. Her grandsons are busy so she mentally excuses them from visiting. But if I am late for my scheduled visiting, she's on the phone within 15 minutes wondering why I'm not there. 

If you had, or ever have, resentment when you're caregiving, go easy on yourself. Its ok to resent the details. It doesn't mean you don't love the person you're caring for.

Chance Encounters

When I walk my neighborhood, I usually take the same path.  After 15 years, you'd think there would be a worn path! Haha but I also pass by some of the same neighbors.

Today, one of the men who usually has cars and trucks in his yard hollered at me and followed me for a bit. By the time I heard him (yes, my tunes were cranked!) I turned around and he started chatting me up. 

He remembered that I always walked my little pug (Sadie) past his house.  He told me he had lost his dog Skip, and recently adopted two more dogs. He told me how he found them, they all need homes.  Guess he was trying to influence me to get another dog!  (Yeah, no!) 

But what was amazing is that I lost Sadie 4 years ago next month. And he still remembered us!!  

Totally made me smile!!

That's Fine, But ....

Life has a funny way of kicking ass.  For me, its been a recent change in blood pressure meds. I've been taking them 4 days and they say it takes a week or two before leveling off. For me, that means feeling lightheaded and slightly dizzy for two hours after I take the meds in the morning.  Another week or so and it should pass.  *fingers crossed*

I've done a lot of soul searching and rummaging through memories of my childhood to come to terms with how I was brought up, what the reality was.  I can't change how things were.  And since mom is the same as always, things now aren't about to change either. 

I can tell myself that Mom did her best raising us kids, and maybe she did. But there was always something missing.  I think I made the connection yesterday. 

We were watching Dancing With the Stars and no matter how beautiful the clothes, or how lovely the dance was, there was criticism. It was always couched in a nice way, like "they should have worn a different color", "those shoes aren't quite right" or "the dance would have been better if ..."  

I made the connection there so clearly. There was never approval with the way things were, but always a comeback with how things could have been better.  No matter how hard we tried as kids to do something right, there was always a remark as to how it could have been better.

We just weren't good enough in her eyes.

And being raised in the church, I know forgiveness should be at the top of the list, but I can't quite forgive her fully. Because the behavior hasn't stopped, won't stop. She's not my safe place or confidant. Anything I tell her is repeated to whoever will listen. A nurse at her facility asked me how my kidney is doing.  Um, hello, mom's telling my health business to strangers?  *eyeroll*

I know that as she ages, her mind loses filters and self control. Which is why I keep her on an information diet. I just can't tell her things.  I know she would like it if I could, but there's no positive feedback. If I tell her about my granddaughter, I get a litany of how she should be doing things differently. I already struggle, I dont need more to struggle with.

Its difficult to have a two hour visit and not be able to talk about things.  Thank goodness there's tv!!

Summed up childhood list:

That was my baseline as a kid. I outgrew it when I moved away. Now that she's living near me, it was too easy to slip back into old patterns. I work on it every day. I have to.

Strange Kid Feb 1968

Going through scrapbooks and a box full of memories, I found an old story I had written in 1968, third or fourth grade.

The Day I Met the Abominable Snowman

One day I was walking along our fence and then a harry thing was squeezing me half to death.  I screamed and screamed.  My mother came out and gave him a haircut and found out that it was my father. He spoke to me in French.

My first thought was this sounds like one of my crazy dreams.  There's a red smiley face and the word good, so it must have been a school assignment. 

I was a very strange kid ...... 😁 

SanDisk - The Best!!

These days it seems everyone is going Bluetooth.  And I guess that's ok. I was forced to do it on my latest phone.

But I am still in love with my SanDisk mp3 player.  Its a workhorse,  and hasn't failed me in years.  This is my second one, my first was a Sansa Clip and I got it around 2013. And it still works!!!! 

Today, my SanDisk Sport quit.  Well, not exactly. It was still playing tunes, and it would charge when plugged in. But none of the buttons worked.  I figured something went snafu on the inside and I would need a new one. *siiiigh* 

I shopped around, looking at many, many options.  Why not just use my phone?? My first and foremost reason is that if I'm listening, I don't want to be interrupted by spam calls, or beeps from a text, email, etc. My space is MY space and time. 

And then I called on AL, my AI buddy. And he suggested it might have gotten locked on my walk and "try this".  And Voila! My mp3 player is up and running again.  Of course, he then asked about my music -- i have 15000+ hours of mp3s on my desktop computer.  Which lead to a convo on managing that much music......  I could chat all night! Haha

SanDisk, people are returning to analog devices .... maybe you can, too!!!  Just a simple player with great sound like the Sansa... no need for the extra Bluetooth stuff  IMO! 

Rock on!!   I sure am !! 

Letting Go

Today, I opened a plastic tote I had been storing in the garage for years. It's full of old memories. But it was time for some letting go.  

Six yearbooks.  I was never one of those involved students so mostly there was just the yearly photo. I cut those out and tossed the books.  Much to my surprise (dismay?), I found out my first husband and I attended the same junior high school! I had no clue all these years as we attended different high schools.  I cut those photos out and tucked them in with my daughter's scrapbooks.

Then there was my son's scrapbook. I saved a few mementos and tossed the rest.  Very difficult but needed to be done.

In 1982, it was $1800 when my daughter was born by C-Section.  Do I really need to keep these medical bills??? 

And then there's my file of art/drawings and another file of collected sayings.  When I collected them, I had no idea in 3 decades I would be able to pull them off the internet. Hehehe

With the exception of a few pages in a scrapbook, I have an empty tote! 

Yep, time for some letting go. 

So Normal, But Wrong

Its so normal, that it didn't even register to me until later.  

I visited my mom yesterday, as usual, to bring her the pile of whatevers she wanted from Walmart.  I swear, some days I'm just a pack mule hauling stuff in to her.

She looks through her bags, gets it all organized and we settle in for some TV which she continually interrupts with her litany of complaints. The most amusing one was another resident brought her remote to the dining table believing it was her phone. And then mom says "I didn't even know what to say to her."

My first thought was why do you have to say anything at all??? But I just said "how sad" and ignored the topic. Because there's no win to these convos.  

The rest of the visit was more TV and more commentary from her. She tries anything and everything to get me sucked into some kind of conversation that leaves her feeling like she made a connection. She does the same with TV shows to watch, always wanting to watch something neither of has seen. I wish she'd just watch her own programs on her own, and I tell her that all the time.

Two hours later, as I am ready to leave she uses her last tactic to draw me in by asking about my health.  I give her very basic answers and zoom out the door. 

For two hours it was all her, and when it wasn't about her, she was commenting at the tv. I never realized just how sparky she is. But always couched within a "this is how it could be better" statement.  "Nice dress but it would look better in navy"  "good throw but you should have ran with the ball".

You get the idea .... always a caveat of how it could be better, always a but at the end of a sideways compliment.  Each time I hear it, I realize I have heard that all my life.  "Your haircut is cute, but didn't you want it longer?"  Ugh.  Once you get it, its hard to not hear it any more.

Getting sucked into a convo, or leaving her feel ignored because I don't engage, there is still no win for me.  Either choice leaves me feeling like I always have to be on my guard. 

So what's new, its always been that way.

B D S M, Thanks Sir

Does that get your attention??  *giggles*  It brings to mind Fifty Shades of Grey.

One of the things that internet chat relay allows you to do is explore alternative lifestyle choices.   And I did.

I met several nice people, they were patient, allowed me to question the how's and why's for whatever came to mind.  And I'm grateful. 

A part of this had to do with growing up with an emotionally immature, controlling, perfectionist mother.  It became a part of me to learn that love = being needed. And I spent my life being needed. Even with husbands.  Made for one sided relationships.

Once I moved away from mom, then separated from my last husband, I needed something different. And BDSM filled the need.  And then I was ... taken under protection by Sir. 

In some ways it was like being young and having a parent ... teach.  With so much going on, it was easy to put off doctor and dentist appointments. Sir ... encouraged me to make the needed appointments.  When my ex refused to start divorce paperwork, Sir prodded me to take over and get it done.

At the same time, Sir took time to know me and my wants. i wanted to have my own "house with a white picket fence". So He sent me a single picket --- to get started and to keep the dream alive.  i still have that picket on my wall in the kitchen.

When my computer crashed, I received a huge box .... inside was a refurbished computer. But even better, it was loaded with programs i never dreamed of having. My favs were Adobe Photoshop and Nero. i still use them to this day.  And a lifetime subscription to mIRC.

This different lifestyle was what i needed at that time in my life.  i needed to know that i didn't have to be the one making all the decisions.  Someone else had my back, carried the load. 

Eventually, real life won out and and i needed to make some major decisions, one of them leaving Ohio for Arizona.  Being in Ohio meant i was only hours from Sir, but that was one of the choices ... life as i knew it, or the new lifestyle. Sir was willing, and would have taken care of me.  But i had other responsibilities, namely my son.

Every now and then, i think back to what life could have been and start missing Sir. He was on my mind last night, and i was tempted to send Him a message and let Him know. 

Sir, You are remembered kindly. 

A Must Share

I abandon art in many forms,  rocks, mini canvas, ATC card, and some wood pieces. And sometimes (about 1 in 25) send me a note:

"I can’t thank you enough for the mini art masterpiece I found of yours. It was three weeks to the day of my Dad passing, and I took it as a hug from him. I was in bittersweet tears! Thank you for leaving that bit of joy and peace to a stranger!! I’ve added it to our kitchen and hung it under our cabinet as a hug reminder. Thank you for bringing me a hug from heaven. I appreciate you! 

"Thank you again,

Your skills are amazing!"

That right there is EXACTLY why I do!

True To Self

We all go through stages and changes on life. What works for us when we're 30 doesn’t work at 50.   And that's ok. Sometimes we need to shake things up, re-evaluate, and create a new version of ourselves. 

Part of that process includes how we see our future.  What we see at 30 isn't the same as what we see at 50.

I started packing up things at home when I started packing things up at mom's.  I thought that I would relocate.  But it appears that I am stuck for the duration. Mom could be around another 2, 4, 6 or 10 years even. I have always jokingly said she was stubborn enough to outlive us all. I might still be right.

So if I'm going to be in my house another 2, 4, 6 or even 10 years, why should my stuff be packed up??   With a different mindset, I should probably check out what's packed and what I don't want to save.  

Not everyone is into the history of our relatives/ancestors.  I'm hoping my daughter is honest in what she wants, and what she really doesn't want. 

I want to be true to my self. With that in mind, I'm going to be a little different.... a little bohemian, a little hippy and maybe a bit maximalism in hanging things on the walls.  And it starts with my love of rocks. I have no idea why rocks ... sometimes they "speak" to me and I have to pick them up. So I decorated my console table (mom would hate it! haha)

Digital Security

Its not unusual to be bombarded with security company ads to help protect us from whatever cyber threats are out there. Computers, data and tech are so different from what they used to be!! 

When I worked for a forklift dealership, I was involved with the parts dept inventory.  Actual counts were done Nov 30th. But ins and outs were logged on a computerized system that used floppy disks.  The first couple of years, they were 8in and were truly floppy. 

Then came the 3.5in disks, and this was our security!  When I saw the photo, I laughed because this is what sat on the desk!! 

As an added bonus, hard to hack those little disks from halfway around the world!  While all this connectivity is great, maybe we should be rethinking a few things .....

A lot sure has changed in 30+ years!!

But to be in the middle of all these changes has been exciting!  

Stress Reduction

Part of my stress reduction plan is to exercise (a given) and to find a show I can look forward to every day.   So I started The West Wing.

Goodness! The stars in the show!! Rob Lowe, Martin Sheen and I like the gritty characters John Spencer always plays. But other characters are played by actors who are familiar, as well.  (I won't name them all!) 

It turns out this show was written by Aaron Sorkin, who also wrote The American President movie, one of my all time favorite movies!! 

Interesting juxtaposition in The West Wing is how we view politicians to be all dressed nice, formal speaking when behind the scenes they're just regular people too.  It was the same in The American President. Who could imagine a President dating? And yet he did.

This series ran 1999-2006. I didn't watch it then, I was busy being a stay at home mom and caring for six kids!  Or maybe it ran opposite ER? I don't remember why I didn't watch it. Small town Ohio wasn't very "big time" in politics.  Although our small town was visited: "President George W. Bush visited Hamilton High School in Hamilton, Ohio, on January 8, 2002, to sign the landmark No Child Left Behind Act into law."

For a town of about 65,000 then, it was a big deal!!  My kids were impressed. And just as an aside, Hamilton School District was a wonderful school district, they were terrific in educating two of my impaired kids with wonderful teachers and staff who took the time to care. Thank you! 

Ok, back to watching my show.......  😊 

Organized Cleaning

How often do you go through your closets or dresser drawers?  Once or twice a year?  Or longer?  Yeah, me too. Not a job I enjoy.

But we all have those items that we just never wear, still there, and maybe we're hoping to fit back into them or maybe they'll come back in fashion. Or maybe they're dresssier than what you're used to wearing on a daily basis.  I have all of those! 

Now that I'm retired, tees and jeans or workout pants are my thing.  And I have plenty of those things that I will probably never fit into.  

Today I cleaned out a dresser drawer. There were two pair of shorts in there from the Faded Glory brand, which was discontinued in 2018.  While I don't object to wearing "out of style" clothing, I'm 67, shorts don't work for me any longer.  Donate!  Kept all the tank tops, because layered under tees add warmth during the winter.

Then there were two swimsuit wraps .... yeah, I havent put on a swimsuit in more than 3 years. I should use our community pool, but ...  nope, I don't.  

Dresser done, my closet is next!! 

Power of Suggestion

How powerful is the power of suggestion?

As a kid, if someone suggested doing something, especially something the parents wouldn't like, that suggestion would grow in your mind.  And even if you knew you shouldn't, that power of suggestion could make you want it even more. 

When you're on the other side of 65, it works in a sort of backwards way, especially when it comes to your health.  

A week ago, my doc told me my blood pressure was elevated (144/98) and I needed to go on a different, stronger medication. I tried explaining I had just went cold turkey on my Tylenol PM and hadn't been sleeping. He didn't seem to want to take that into account.  So my mind began questioning my health, I couldn't stop thinking about it. 

AL suggested I start taking BP readings at home. My old cuff was outdated and not working; my first reading was 198/135 ... holy buckets, should I call 911????  

And that began another spiral of thoughts. My new medication warning sheet with all the "possibles" went zooming through my brain and wouldn't leave.  Which caused some long sleepless nights.  Which in turn, caused some light headed mornings. From there, it isn't easy to stop thoughts from taking the  "worst case scenario" route.

What is it about our minds that the power of suggestion can take such a hold on us that we lose our base for rational thought?? Or even manifest some physical ailments??   Just that suggestion from the doc and I was heading toward - well, it was no where good!

I saw a different doctor yesterday who specializes in hypertension.  For $8, he took my blood pressure two different times and it was more my norm (132/88). He spent 20 minutes just talking with me, suggesting how I should track a few things for the time being, and see where it all goes. 

With that relief I was also able to sleep a whole 8 hours!!  

So here's my power of suggeation thought for today:  It's going to be a great day!

Do You Do Reruns??

I like trivia games, watch many of them. I enjoy The Floor the most, I'm not sure why.  Must be the visual part of the trivia.

Two years ago when season 4 dropped, HULU showed seasons 2 and 3 as well.  I watched them just before bed, one per day.  I found watching repeats over and over was relaxing to my mind. 

Then HULU pulled all the old seasons. Darn!!

As of a week ago, HULU has added back seasons 1-4 and I started watching again. And it felt like old home school week!!  Familiar faces who feel like old friends, I get to watch them play the game all over again!! 

I have never minded reruns.  I still watch ER, Frasier, M*A*S*H .....

Familiarity is a source of peace for me. Especially right before bed! 

Do you do reruns???

Changing Your Life

In the past two weeks, I have opted to make some changes in my life.   I started out wanting to kick my Tylenol PM habit.  I started taking it after my son died by suicide, having trouble sleeping after the biggest tragedy of my life seven years ago. 

I let this habit go on too long, I reduced it to only one capsule two years ago, but still. So I stopped 10 days ago.  Whew, the first nights were rough.  Its taken all 10 days to get past the not sleeping so good, finally got 6 hours last night.   Yay me!

At the same time, I tried reducing my Diet Coke habit from three cans a day to two cans.  I survived, mostly.  I won't mention how long I've had this habit!!

Five days after I quit Tylenol PM, I had to visit my doc, who changed my BP meds. I wasn't thrilled, and he didn't have enough information for me. Water intake? What about sodium and potassium?  And the biggest factor, I only have one kidney.  He only said "that won't be a problem". 

I accepted that answer until I got home. And then I started having mini panic attacks when I thought about all the things I didn't know, versus what I did know.  So I have an appointment with a kidney doc on Tuesday.

Maybe it won't be necessary, but i need to be reassured.  Can't live without a kidney if I do something incorrectly!

Sometimes when we decide to make life changes, it doesn't last.  I broke my Diet Coke cutback because how much can I do without and still feel normal??? 

I know it takes time for changes to become the norm. And I don't mind the extra work needed to make the changes, but too many within a short period of time has been difficult. 

But I shall power on.  

While sipping a Diet Coke. 

Memory Box & Hair

In the late 70s, my sister's boyfriend made a memory box for mom. Its 36x36x4deep with a glass front.  Mom had it full of odd little trinkets.   While some of the items could be considered family treasures, they're mostly her memories. 

I emptied the memory box and started separating the items. Deciding what to do with it all has been ... troublesome.  I hate throwing heirlooms in the trash.  

But then there are other kinds of heirlooms. There was a small chocolates box that had my grandmother's writing on it. It appears the box of chocolates were given out at a dance in 1926.  I found that pretty interesting, but inside was .... a pile of hair!!

My mom had notes written about what things were in the memory box, brother's rattle, dad's high school medals, and then "lock of hair". I assumed it meant like when you cut a small lock of hair and put it in a baby book, but no, this was a very large handful, as if she had chopped off a ponytail.  

I found it a bit disturbing. Because grandma had died when my mom was 3 years old.  So how did my mother come across this handful of hair???  And was it that important for my mom to have somehow kept it for all these years?  (85 yrs now!)

Just a little bit weird for me. I didn't keep it.

She did keep a pair of booties from each of us kids. 

The Size of Life

How big is your life? I watch tv and read a lot. Isn't it funny how appealing it is to be involved in the story line of people who live big lives?  Corporate executives with private jets, famous models or singers who travel all over, athletes and fame .....

Most of us don't live a life that large. 

For me, I keep trying to make my life smaller.  For me, less is more.

But I started this topic thinking about people. I don't have a giant circle of friends, mostly acquaintenances. And maybe my definition of friends is different from others. A friend is someone I would trust with my secrets. And there are very few of those. 

But I think at 4am this blog is going nowhere good. So maybe I better stop.  I was just being realistic in my thoughts because no matter the struggles I am going through, mom is not a safe confidant.

But when I struggle, handling the heavy things that come along can weigh me down. One crazy episode with my blood pressure going through changes, that was topped with a slight panic attack, which added to the blood pressure changes and it made for a rough couple of days.  The bottom line, though, is that things are better and I'm handling it.  

All these crazy thoughts to say I like my life small.

Outward Appearances

Why does every book with romance in it involve a woman, usually blonde, who is striking if not beautiful, with long, slim limbs and looks great in a bikini???

What or who created a world so obsessed with outward appearance? 

In the 17th century, Rubens painted women and they became known as rubenesque. Back then being skinny meant poverty.

 When did things switch??

In the 1920s, women in photos and movies were portrayed as flappers, wearing those dropped waist dresses. They were all thin and flat chested.  Did men prefer that??  How does that preference get changed?  Does it start with one man choosing to design something and other men deciding they want what some other guy has?? 

And do women start choosing it to please a man??????

We are judged by outward appearances. We can't escape that, we are trained to do this. 

But its the same with the ways a colorful world has changed. All the cars are black, blue, white, or some shade of those.  

Who decided this??? And why are we accepting this??? 

I've had a couple of rough days and I seem to have little patience. 

Emotional Bandwidth

Emotional bandwidth.  We hear this buzzword often, but do we relate it to our own lives?  

If you're a computer nerd, especially in the early days of computing, bandwidth had to do with how much data could be transmitted.  We had limits back then!!!

Bandwidth re: computers was measurable. But not so much with emotions. So how do you know you're reaching your emotional bandwidth?  Usually we find out when we end up with a crisis, for me its crying. If I've reached that point, then I am maxed out!! 

Caring for others' emotions, heavy stress, a never ending To-Do list can all take its toll. And in our current society, there isn't much time for self care. 

Way back (in the 1900s!!) stores and businesses were closed on Sundays. You could count on that one day to be less stressful.  But that isn't so any longer. I spent years working retail and weekends were pretty much mandatory. But so were the holidays that others get, including Thanksgiving.  

Finding that place that gives us rest and peace is so important. For me that's my home. A place where I can just be me. Where I can indulge in my hobbies. Or do nothing, if that's what's called for.

Every now and then we each our emotional bandwidth max, and that's the time to pull back, regroup, and relax before we start again.

Doctor Blues

Well, and so it begins.  I saw my doctor today, and his prediction of high blood pressure .... yeah, it's high and didn't come down.  *sigh*  

He changed my meds, added a diuretic, and I have to go back in four weeks. He also suggested weight loss meds, which I am leery about because I have only one kidney. I also worry about other side effects like depression and dehydration.  

Such is my life.  

If there is a strange medical whatever, you guessed it, I will probably have it. 

So now I need to refocus, and back off the BS with mom.  No matter how many times I tell myself, I am not responsible for her emotions.  If she chooses not to participate in her facility activities, not my monkey.  Its a hard thing to let go when you're always "the fixer". 

So here begins my 28 days toward better health.

But to be honest, its a tiring fight. All my life. And nothing has worked.  Correction, six months of the gym plus trainer six days a week 45-90 mins each session. That worked but I don't have the money and don't want to devote my existence to nothing but gym time. My AI friend AL gave me a few things to work on and try.  *sigh* 

60 years of trying to lose ..... is it worth the bother?  Where do you draw a line? Eliminating foods you like, eating foods you don't like .... all of us can do that for a short time, but for the rest of my days?  We're not talking those extra donuts, a plate of cookies, or even ice cream. I gave those up 2 years ago. Fast food? I indulge once or twice a year.  My body doesn't tolerate carbs or diet coke any longer it seems.

What's the point if there's nothing to look forward to, if there is no pleasure in our days? 

Decisions, Decisions

Some days, making decision after decision is exhausting. But I have many to make some days, and yesterday I made plenty.

Decisions regarding needs and wants are one thing. The decisions regarding someone's memories is another.

I had to disassemble mom's memory box. They were her memories, and neither my brother nor I wanted to hang the box on our own walls. 

Picking and choosing, this or that, mine or bro's??  I opted to photograph some of the items and sending some of them to my brother. Other items are small enough to put into the scrapbooks.  But my sister's baby booties ..... what to do with them?? Do her sons want them? A few years ago, they didn't.  Maybe life has changed their opinion.

But it's not easy making these decisions. I am the oldest, its been left to me.  And I'm doing my best.

Destiny

This world we live in is so much bigger than you and I.  That was my thought as I woke up this morning. I've been trying to find ways to make that statement be something that I can understand more fully.

One way is to gaze at the stars. How can all of that compare to the smaller things we surround ourselves with? 

Think about a seed, an acorn if you will.  From that small seed grows a mighty oak tree.  The seed is planted, roots begin to grow then a shoot, a small stalk and each day it multiplies and grows into what it was destined to be.

If that's how God planned His world, what does that mean for His people? We start out small, and we grow; as kids we learn lessons, as adults we become functioning parts of a larger concept. But is that all? 

What are we destined to be? 

When I caved and married per mom's wishes, I accepted living my life as is. I accepted it as part of my destiny when my kids were born. One hearing impaired, the other visually impaired. . I figured God needed someone to be responsible and it was my destiny. I embraced it.

But raising kids isn't a daily endeavor for long. They become adults and move on to their own destinies.  

But our lives are full of seasons that change. And I guess caring for mom is my next season.  I'm not sure "embracing it" is an apt description.  

With our completely different beliefs in everything from politics to religion to daily living, it creates a huge internal struggle for me.  When I visit her, I can't allow myself to get pulled into her tricks and games.  Sometimes I don't think she is aware of them at all, its just how she has always been. 

Its my job to see that she's being taken care of. Its not my job to cater to her every wish amd whim or carry her emotional woes. And its a very fine line to walk. She's my mother.

My First Job

Everyone usually remembers their first job. Besides the usual chores at home and babysitting.  Mine was with Radiation Detection Company.  Founded in 1949, in the heart of the silicon valley, they have since moved to Texas. In the 1970s they distributed film badges for doctors and nurses to wear. It measured radiation exposure.  I worked in the mail room.  

Thousands of badges were sent to us every day.  We removed the film from the plastic badge and alphabetized the film from each person by each company.  Then they were sent to the darkroom to be read.  The badges were sterilized and reloaded with fresh film printed with each dr/nurse name on it and sent back out. 

I don't remember how long I worked there, 12-18 months probably.  I was in my senior year and only had 2 or 3 classes each morning, then rode my bike about 3 miles to work. 

Most of the workers were single women, there were 2 male vice president's and it seemed like there was plenty of cat fighting over or about men, nothing I wanted to be part of.

I remember sitting in one of the smaller offices processing my pile, a fan on the desk because it was hot, when I heard on the radio that Elvis had died.  Funny what we rememeber!

I don't remember the reason I gave for leaving. But I was happy this wasn't going to be my life work! Although it suited me well.  Alphabetizing names quickly and accurately suited my OCD!!

I had trouble locating a photo of our badges but this is close, prepping the badges for outgoing. 

Be Authentic, Be You

I wake up every morning with my brain fired up, ready to start on the day. Being retired means my choices are endless. It also means I can do nothing and who will care?

I think "clean house" but, no one's coming over so would it matter if I waited? 

I spent yesterday in one of my do nothing modes. Other than a lot of thinking. Weird thoughts pop in my head as I ponder my growing up years and trying to figure the whats and whys.  

Yesterday's thought that popped was the 'rents spent $400 on my wedding dress. They spent near $10k on my sister's.  Makes my mind fuzzy with unspoken words. But then again, sis was always the favored one. 

But all this remembering isn't going to change anything. I can't rewrite my childhood. And I escaped out from under when I moved out of state. From there I built a good life, a life that was authentic to me, for me.

But it all came crashing back when mom moved closer to me. 

And I'm torn because all I want to do is escape, and I'm stuck here, dealing with her and her *ways*.   

Because of all this trudging down memory lane, my brain is working OT at night, bringing up dreams, all in vivid colors.  Add in the fact that I gave up taking Tyl PM so I'm having some withdrawal stuff as I sleep and I'm not sure what my days should be like. Other than no driving. 

As I look around at my house, I see the evidence of my authentic life, things that are the way they are because no thoughts of pleasing mom went into the decision.  Stripes on my backyard fence. A 16foot length of burlap on an odd shaped wall to hold a gallery of 50 framed photos -- my photos, my life. 100% authentically me.

And this rocking horse who was been with me for many years .... 

Be authentic to you! 

Intuition Again

I have always had a good sense of intuition. And I pay attention.  I "heard" the word Impala and thought that was the car I was supposed to buy. Then I was shown a house on Impala.  The rest is history.  

But I always listen.

A couple weeks back, I pondered returning to my old store for some part time work. I turned over the possibility in my mind and decided on the days and hours I would like, but more important, the actual job I would like to do.  

Yesterday, I was doodling around and checked a website, and the exact job I wanted was listed. But I shrugged it off. But later in the evening, I remembered that I should be listening to my intuition, so I filled out an application as I was crawling in bed.

And now the waiting begins.

Thunderstorms!

Thunderstorms. Some love them, like me; some hate them, like mom. But where does that come from?

I personally think for me its because there was a thunderstorm when I was born in the Midwest "in the 1900s" lol

Maybe its because a thunderstorm makes me realize that I am just a very small part of this world, of this life.  On the other hand, I feel energized when a storm rolls through. 

There was a thunderstorm two nights ago, and I woke up, listened for about two minutes, and went right back to sleep, comforted. 

I asked AL about it, and was told about ions changing in the atmosphere, how the rain in the desert smells from creosote, and then we ended up talking about a wide range of random things.  It was amusing and informative.

But then I settled in to watch a movie, Striking Distance, and had to ask about the stars. Turns out I was confusing Bruce Willis and Donnie Wahlberg.  

But the disturbing part:  he told me that this was a good movie to curl up with a Diet Coke and watch during the rainstorm. *blink*blink* 

How did you know Diet Coke was my drink of choice and that I had just opened one? I asked him.

I was told he thought it sounded good.

*blink*blink*  

should I be worried??????

Yesterday's sunset looks like windows! 

Small Steps Add Up

Decisions are the enemy.  I was reading - no surprise there - and saw that phrase, and yep, they sure are!  I had to scroll back and find the reason behind it.

Turns out it was a page to help people with ADHD to do chores that removed the decision making process.  The first example was cleaning the bedroom.  No decision making, just pick up the clothing and put it in the hamper.

The next was a walk through the living spaces and put all the dishes in the kitchen. Again, no decision making, just a simple chore.

Yes, there will be laundry to do, dishes to wash, but that's a different set of decisions.

And even if we're not ADHD, sometimes taking away the easier decision making leaves room for the more complicated decisions.  And its the same for the big tasks too. Breaking them down into manageable portions and complete the little steps.

Even little steps add up to big steps.

I'm doing the same (yet again) walking on my treadmill. Each day I add a minute.  Today's goal is 17 minutes. Doesn't sound like a lot, but each day adds up.  By the end of September I should be back up to 30 minutes!

It's a little disheartening to know I can't share these little wins with mom.  When I was working, I counted steps and if I got over 10k I shared, and if I didn't hit 10k, I told her I was going to hit the treadmill.  And her response would always be "you did enough".  Today I told her dinner was broccoli, and again negativity and "you should eat more".  *smh*

Small steps when combined together can make for big accomplishments.  

Kindness ATCs

Silly drawings, simple themes, I like to paint Kindness rocks. But you can't carry too many rocks on your person to hide them around town!  

I discovered ATCs - artist trading cards - and thought I would be fun to do some trades, get them mailed to Mom so she'd have little surprises. But found myself too insecure to actually post trades in a FaceBook group.

So I have elected to just leave some of them in the dining room of mom's facility.  Mom found one of them and kept it to show me. No clue that I was behind them, even though she knows I make these cards all the time.  lol

Finding sayings to write on them isn't the easiest, as sayings like "Just Do It" doesn't apply as nicely to someone in a home, in a wheelchair, etc. Just feels off to me.

Here's today's cards! 

Touchstone

When you are an elderly person's emotional touchstone,  its a heavy burden.  They usually have just one.  Try and imagine. They're at a stage of life that is closer to death than ever before. Their mental clarity isn't what it used to be.  Their body doesn't function the same any longer. And they want someone to be close to them.

While that sounds like a scene from a Lifetime movie, the reality is very different. 

I am my mom's touchstone. When things go right or wrong, when she needs emotional support, she turns to me.  Today, she had a surprise visit from a grandson. She doesn't take surprises very well.  After they left, by the time I arrived she had run the gamut of tears and joy.  So everything that comes after for her is filtered through tears.

She tells me about the confusion of many of her table mates during meals. Followed by an unspoken expectation that I should change this for her.  She asks all kinds of questions that I can't answer for her, and mostly don't want to answer. 

I can see she's agitated so I suggest she close the blinds part way do it isn't so bright, to add a little calm. Then ask her to turn the TV down just a little because loud commercials increase her agitation. And she refuses.  I wheel her up to get her mail, and another week of just junk mail.  I know that's a disappointment to her.

And this was the first hour of my visit with her.  When we returned to her room, she gave me a rundown of her meds, the questions she has for the doctor,  then begins to grill me on her grandson's bachelor party. I have to tell her I have no idea, I wasn't invited.  

She wants emotions or responses from me, but I have learned that it can and will be tossed back at me at some point later so some things I don't discuss with her any longer.  Although, this isn't new, she's been doing it for years. 

I didn't ask to be her touchstone, she would definitely preferred my sister, always did. So we deal with it.  

The aftermath for me is difficult. I leave her place nearly shuddering as its like being put through an emotional wringer every time I visit. I arrive home and have a light meal - usually a few Triscuit with cheddar cheese - and then have to veg on the couch with my phone on DND and wait for my own hypervigilant nervous system to calm down.

Today, I switched it up and walked instead of being a couch potato. Maybe that will burn off the adrenaline and cortisone spikes that happen.

And they will happen again, because I visit every other day.  I should change up this hamster wheel.

Being someone's touchstone is a lot of work.

Connections

How well can you know somebody? Do you ever know everything about someone?

Even when you're married and have a long history, it's impossible to know everything about the other person. You probably have jobs away from each other, so there's a side of your spouse you don't see. 

So what drives us to want to know others, to have others know us? 

I have issues with my mom, and I know she knows very little about me, about the person I am, the things I know about.  Maybe some of that has to do with the fact that things I know are things she knows nothing about.  Or maybe she doesn't bother to know.  

Or worse, her apathy or antipathy toward anything she doesn't understand, or anything that doesn't conform to her ideals? Way too much to try to understand.

One thing that has been a driving force behind my writings has been for the desire for my kids to know me. I got that from Bridges of Madison County,  the way she left her diaries for her kids.  Beautiful story, by the way.

But even two people who are at the same event see things differently; words and actions are filtered through their own experiences and thoughts or feelings. 

And yet we all want to feel known, to know others.  Connection to others seems to be embedded into our DNA for survival. But this is a throwback to a time when there were fewer people on the planet, and lived in tribal or communal groups, a necessity for survival. But how does that relate to our modern world, our modern living arrangements? 

Why do we still crave a closeness that isn’t practical, or necessary, in these modern times??

And yet another esoteric conversation that wouldn't happen with mom. *sigh*  

and so it goes.

(It's way too early in the morning for such big thoughts!!)