WARNING! I HAVE EDITED THIS BECAUSE AFTER I HIT "PUBLISH", I FOUND SOME AUTO-CORRECTIONS AND SENTENCES THAT WENT NOWHERE. FOR INSTANCE, I TYPO'D "MATURE" INSTEAD OF "NATURE" BEFORE THE WORD "VIDEO"! NOT GOOD,HUH! ALWAYS A MILLION LAUGHS HERE! SO A FEW THINGS ARE DIFFERENT, KIDDOS! (12/12/17.)
12/10/17:
Hey friends. Yes, my brain has finally shut down. I know it stays this way all the time, but during holidays, I think it shuts off to get through them! Have you ever felt that way, or is it just me?
Oh well, soldiering through!
We did spend a few days with our son and his family during Thanksgiving. It was nice...nice that the drive isn't even two hours long. The traffic wasn't bad, not was the weather. Kristi did a crockpot turkey and dressing recipe, which we all love. You use almost turkey breast tenderloins or something, put them in the bottom of the crockpot and add Stovetop stuffing, chicken broth and a few other ingredients. After 4 hours, you've got tender turkey and moist dressing, which you use two forks to pull the turkey apart as you would pulled pork. We all loved it so much, I think we could have eaten one crockpot each! And no carcus, no getting up so early, (no thawing out and hoping it's fully defrosted before roasting), no worries. You can even do it the day before and put the crock into the fridge and reheat the next day.
I know. It's not the traditional turkey, but it gives you so much more time together, and more time to concentrate on your casseroles and other side dishes and desserts. I made chicken salad when I got there with my already cooked and chopped chicken, the chopped celery and real mayonnaise. Kristi had some homemade sweet pickles. I also had hardboiled eggs I'd done at home and I made into deviled eggs while I made the chicken salad.
This meal suited us just fine, and we had a sweet potato casserole with brown sugar and pecan topping, a zucchini casserole, cranberry sauce, and some really good rolls. You get those in the freezer section in your supermarket! Maybe it's not so traditional, but it's just us,and would rather have good and easy than long, cranky and kids going nuts to eat! (I wonder what a traditional Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner will be like in 100 years!)
We did use foil pans for all the baked casseroles, we did use everyday dishes, as well. Honestly, we're not very much the "dress for dinner" family----unless it's to a "fancy restaurant"! Ha! Maybe to the Greenbrier, where we used to go when they lived in the mountains of VS until May, 2016. It's beautiful, and our son took us all out there Christmas, 2015. Yummy and classy
Since, during this Thanksgiving, we were there about 5 days, we had a lot of good visiting with our grown kids, and with our 'tween (Kat),and teenaged (David) grandkids. Those two would come to "our room" in the evenings, sit in the bed with me and watch nature videos on the computer. They'd bring their drawing pads and a plethora of pencils, pens, pastels, etc. Then they'd d draw while we talked, and that time we spend together is more precious than anything to me. Even if they did get cookie crumbs on the sheets!
They share so much during those times than when it's the six of us in the family room. You know, their guards let down, and they trust me not to tell their "secrets. (Of course, if I needed the parents to know, I'd tell them---if it were a dangerous secret to have!)
Sometimes, we laugh so loud and hard, one or more of the "grown-ups" comes to push the door open just to see what the heck was going on! Our son grins And heads back down the stairs.
And it's usually a silly cat video, which Kat has gotten me to pull up on YouTube since she was old enough to say, "funny cat?" Or it is a joke David heard at school. Whatever. Laughter IS good for the soul, and I really need to laugh. We all do. I was thinking about how little I do laugh---which isn't a good thing.
David, while Facetiming me Friday night, shared that he'd asked a classmate, Giselle, to be his girlfriend, but she said she'd just like to "Keep it in the friend zone " for right now. He sighed and said, "I know she likes me, but just as a friend."
" Hey, being friends at 13 is a good thing to be, you know! She sounds like a very smart girl! " I said.
"She is, and she's so pretty, Mimi!"
He sent me a picture of the raking leaves together, and she's a tall, pretty girl with blond hair. (Apparently she was named appropriately!)
These teenaged years can be achingly beauticul, or simply aching. Some teens don't even make it through.... :(
My heart aches for David, though. Both his parents aren't very tall, really---Ed is 5 '9 and Kristi is 4'8! I feel like during all that time his Crohn's disease went undiagnosed, his growth---both weight- and height-wise, was stunted. He has grown some since the Fall, and they switched his meds, but I don't know how much growth he lost before he was finally diagnosed?
The Humira is still working pretty well, but the doses may need to be moved closer together.Kristi said they have good insurance. If they didn't, a month's worth--(or two shots)--would cost them $14,000.00 per month. Can you believe it? He has not achieved remission yet, but he's so much better. I know he is only 13, but he needs to learn to pace himself better, I think.
But---I want him to enjoy being young while he is young!
Oh, and our Kat-girl has got to see a neurologist on the 21rst. She is having headaches regularly, and although they could just be hormonal or even tension related, we want to rule out everything. Her mom had to have brain surgery at 12, caused by tangled veins. She nearly died, but they said it couldn't be "handed down". We just want to know. I'll be glad when we do.
Frankly, she stays on her little iPod so very much, I wonder if severe eye strain could be involved? I know I get a headache if I'm on the computer too long. You know how fast an hour can pass by on the computer! Kids even do homework on their computers nowadays! (I don't think we could have ever envisioned that! At my house, pencils and notebook paper were hard to come by.)
I know, I haven't shown you any decoration pictures! There aren't any. It's just too much for us to get it down and get it done, so maybe I'll set out the Nativity scene and a little lighted ceramic tree---but that is it. Our Christmas is really spent with our little family, where the house is so big, we could be all in the house and not be close enough to notice each other.
There's not much need to try to get up in the attic and pull things dow here. I fall too easily and hubby's back aches so badly. (He got ready to sit down in his chair last night, got off balance, and fell on his hands and knees. He sits with one leg underneath him, and that is not good for someone who has had hip surgery.)
We're okay without decorating, because we don't really have to decorate to feel Christmas---but I absolutely love to see everyone else's and I do love visiting around the blog-block and and seeing all the beauty! I love it that people go on with traditions and don't let life get in the way of life!!
I hope autocorrect hasn't destroyed this post so much. I haven't even read it over, so I hope ---if you got through this boring post-- you could understand most of it!
If I don't get back on to post before Christmas, I wish you all a very Merry Christmas, sincerely! To me, it's not about how much money you have to spend, how many or how few people are in your life, or all the outer things we are inundated with. It is what we feel, the love we show to others, the faith we feel in our souls that there is really a reason for this season that matters.
Not about the smile on our lips, but the smile in our eyes! It's not just whether we hear or say, "Happy Holidays!" or "Merry Christmas!" , but it's more how real our love for others really is. It's how much grace and understanding we give to people in all walks of life. How much peace we want to create around us, instead of the usual holiday fussing and fighting! That's just a few things that come to mind. That we find that, crossing cultures, and religions, and ethnicities, we are all so much the same!
Enjoy your holiday, good folk! Make it what you want, no matter what or how other people seem to want to cause hurt during this season. Take a deep breath, (or several!), and let go of all the thoughts and feelings that keep you from your peace! At least for a couple of days or weeks, let us search within ourselves for the Spirit of peace and not depend on others for our happiness. ( This is a hard one for me, because I've been married since I was 16, and it seems I have always been reliant on someone other than myself.)
When we do rely on someone other than the One who created us --and the world around us for our peace and happiness -- we're likely to end up hurt and disappointed.
I hope I can take my own advice and lean on Him and not on my own understanding! To seek a quiet joy, and search inside myself to find the peace that is always there for the taking of J look for it.
I know we can have joy. Oh, it may not be the exuberant joy we experienced when we were little ones, but it can be the kind we will always have the assurance of being there!I
Do you feel it? Sure you do! It's right here with us!
the wanderer
Monday, December 11, 2017
Saturday, October 28, 2017
A SENSE OF SCENTS
Do you attach odors to the people in your past? It’s hard to figure out what word to use here---scents, smells, odors! With the people, I was close to growing up—and since I’ve been a “grown-up” --- I have done that.
(What is “grown up” anyway! Not sure I am there.)
My mother wore “Evening in Paris” perfume—but not that often. Anyway—I’m not sure it was ever a “real perfume”. I didn’t care for that, but later she wore Blue Grass, and that was better. Remember that one anyone? I liked that better. There are many scents I associate with Mama. Can a smile have a scent?? I think of her smile when I think of her. Also, unfortunately, for quite a long time, I also associated alcohol odor with her, too. (Silly of me to think of a “scent” as being a good thing, while I think of “odor” as not a good thing so much.)
Thankfully, when I was in my mid 20s, that alcohol odor went away for a good while. There was a relapse a few years later, but that was the one last time. Blessed years, those!
My daddy was a painter, and he smelled like kerosene, paint, alcohol and shaving lotion: OLD SPICE. On Friday nights, he smelled like all sorts of penny candies he bought for me. Chocolate kisses, Mary Janes, caramels, a couple I’ll have to look up sometime. Oh—Tootsie Rolls!
My grandmothers did not have scents, really. When there were, I think of them as vanilla and banana pudding, (My Bammie!), or a sweetish-smelling powder with my Daddy’s mama, “Ma”. I wish I’d been able to spend more time with her, I’ve never felt like I knew her well! After my great-grandmother died, she moved in with one of my aunts. So—I don’t really associate her with a scent, and that’s too bad.
"Sister", (I’ve mentioned her before here too.), smelled of snuff and love and peace and safety…and more love. Oh, and baked custard—more vanilla there! And wood smoke. Oh, the fried potatoes she’d cook on the little wood stove -- in the room Daddy built on for her at our house. Although I can’t really tell you what it was used for, or really smelled like---camphor! It was in a jar on her shelf over the bed. There were other things up there, Vapor Rub, Liniments, other bottles of things unknown to a 5-year-old—but no alcohol up there.
My Acteens leader, Mrs. Fink, wore “Wind Song”—by Prince Matchabelli. She would pick me up and bring me home from our meetings at church.
She soon asked me to call her Janet when we weren’t in Acteens, and we were friends, rather than leader and student. That was until about 5 years ago, when she passed away from a brain tumor. She was a wonderful person mother, Christian, crafter, friend.
A Lady.
That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of Janet. Lady. She smelled like a lady.
I loved her so much…I loved her scent—always clean, and with a light touch of Wind Song. For Christmas one year, (I think I was 15), she gave me a little sampler they sold with four (I think) scents by Prince Machabelli . What a precious thing to do.
I can’t forget to mention my daughter-in-law! (What is with the sudden change in font?) She first walked into our house, looking a bit timid and shy. Wondering would we be a welcoming family or a stand-offish one! We loved her right away. The scent I associate back then of her was called “Beautiful”. I can’t think right now who makes it, but it is still a wonderful scent. Now she has changed to something else, Clinique Happy. We agreed Clinique Happy Heart was not the thing we liked at all. 😊 Now, I associate her with the scent of a busy mother, always freshly showered but not taking the time to care much about perfumes, but cooking and laundry she does for the family. Her laundry smells so good--I use the same detergent, but mine just doesn't act like hers! For her chipper voice on the phone, and the burdened one she shares with me still. She smells of truth and worth and caring, and love and respect.
Aunt Margie, my favorite aunt, wore Chanel #5. She smelled of that on special occasions and even brought me a bottle of it when I was in the hospital years ago. That was in the ‘70s, when I had kidneys stones that brought on labor and the loss of our unborn 7 - month- old- son.
And finally, for right now, anyway—my dear, dear mother-in-law! I don’t know that she ever wore perfume. I think she wore that kind of sweetish smelling powder like “Ma” had worn from earlier in my life. But to me, she smelled like arms reaching out for me, smiles just for me, secrets she shared with me. Of introducing me as her daughter when we went shopping. Of the vegetables we put up in the summer. She smelled of us frying fish and hush-puppies together at her, (or my), stove.
She smelled like the walnut and pecans we picked out in September, October, and November. She smelled like poultry seasoning and vanilla. Of Dicken's Christmas Carol! Of fresh coconut. Of a grocery cart full of ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, allspice, pure vanilla extract, candied fruits, and raisins, apples, and currants, and figs!
Of her smile as we shopped to get those very freshest of spices and fruits. Of her wonderful dark, moist, fruit and nut cakes we made together, (I dare not call it “fruitcake”, for that has a bad name now—and sometimes, rightfully so.) The laughter we shared from dawn to well into the night as we busied ourselves to make 9 cakes each year---three days in a row. She smelled of the friendship one can only share with a wonderful, older friend—who is also kin to one by marriage.
IF we’re blessed, we may get that 1 in 1, 000 (or 100, 000,000!) lady only God could choose to be our second mother and mother-in-law at the same time! I miss her so much, and I miss Mama. I don’t know if I deserved so much warmth and love that I got from so many people in my life—but I thank God for it. And I have these memories!
How about you!
How about you!
The wanderer
Sunday, September 24, 2017
YOU KNOW......I didn't mention....
...my mind has gotten so full of things, I have no room for more! Do you know, just a moment ago, I wrote almost the same post I had written and posted last? I forgot what I'd written about David's appointment.
Have you EVER done that?
David's biopsy turned out negative, which was good news.
But, and it's not so important as David--not nearly...but we had to have our old cat--"Babycat" put down about 9 days ago. I don't know if she had already "gone" when I posted last--but I didn't want to speak about it then anyway.
I think we've had about 5 cats during our 51 years of marriage. She was the shyest cat--and at times, most vengeful too --- when she wanted to be.
She wasn't really a lap cat--she was feral. She never really got over that part of her first few days of life. She never liked for strangers to come into the house-- she never got over being afraid unless it was just my husband and me. She'd hide when my family came ---and she didn't like little children.
Do you remember the poem: Fog--by Carl Sandburg? "....coming on little cat's feet..."
That was her. She'd quickly be up ... so lightly --- as lightly as fog coming in. She, sneaking up, I, pretending to be asleep, (and taking deep, slow breaths), before she would jump up on me. Then, sniffing, creeping and stepping lightly to get up on my chest or down by my side, she was with me. She snuggled close and softly. She was home.
Then, our routine. I would start to whisper to her..."How soft you are, how sweet you are, what a nice girl you are, you are Mama's Babycat1" I would softly rub her head and ears., and she would deeply purr.
She would start to sink down onto and into me like my own babies had done when they were tiny. We would breathe long, slow breaths together, and I loved to feel those little bodies asleep beside me. She cuddled like a baby--for the night.
The next day, it as pretty much all business--she wanted food, and to be alone. Then, if I napped in my chair or in bed, again she'd come -- when she thought I hadn't noticed. She would come for her whispers, her rubs.
She was very sweet and also very contrary at times! Obviously, she was bipolar!
I miss her very much. Very, very much. But she will be our last. I'm no longer really able to care for an animal as it should be cared for. My husband doesn't want to mess with the litter box or put up with her scratching at his hand, or his bare ankles, to be fed or noticed.
Have a good week, friends.
Have you EVER done that?
David's biopsy turned out negative, which was good news.
But, and it's not so important as David--not nearly...but we had to have our old cat--"Babycat" put down about 9 days ago. I don't know if she had already "gone" when I posted last--but I didn't want to speak about it then anyway.
I think we've had about 5 cats during our 51 years of marriage. She was the shyest cat--and at times, most vengeful too --- when she wanted to be.
She wasn't really a lap cat--she was feral. She never really got over that part of her first few days of life. She never liked for strangers to come into the house-- she never got over being afraid unless it was just my husband and me. She'd hide when my family came ---and she didn't like little children.
Do you remember the poem: Fog--by Carl Sandburg? "....coming on little cat's feet..."
That was her. She'd quickly be up ... so lightly --- as lightly as fog coming in. She, sneaking up, I, pretending to be asleep, (and taking deep, slow breaths), before she would jump up on me. Then, sniffing, creeping and stepping lightly to get up on my chest or down by my side, she was with me. She snuggled close and softly. She was home.
Then, our routine. I would start to whisper to her..."How soft you are, how sweet you are, what a nice girl you are, you are Mama's Babycat1" I would softly rub her head and ears., and she would deeply purr.
She would start to sink down onto and into me like my own babies had done when they were tiny. We would breathe long, slow breaths together, and I loved to feel those little bodies asleep beside me. She cuddled like a baby--for the night.
The next day, it as pretty much all business--she wanted food, and to be alone. Then, if I napped in my chair or in bed, again she'd come -- when she thought I hadn't noticed. She would come for her whispers, her rubs.
She was very sweet and also very contrary at times! Obviously, she was bipolar!
I miss her very much. Very, very much. But she will be our last. I'm no longer really able to care for an animal as it should be cared for. My husband doesn't want to mess with the litter box or put up with her scratching at his hand, or his bare ankles, to be fed or noticed.
Have a good week, friends.
the wanderer
Tuesday, September 19, 2017
A LITTLE UPDATE!
Hi friends,
I've got some news about David, but not all--and I'll try to tell you why.....
Last Thursday, while going to school, David told his mom that his stomach ached and he just didn't feel good. She said, "Well, you'll feel better when you get there!", and sometimes, he does.
Not that day. Before he could check into his homeroom, he vomited up-- mostly blood. First, they took him to a local hospital, and then after a few hours, he was at the children's hospital with his own doctor.
Long story short (and it was not a short day for David), and because hospitals take forever to get anything done---the day was long and slow.
He kept us up, (by Facetime) on things as much as he could. He often calls when he's at the pond fishing, which is why, as long as I can afford it--I'll keep this iPhone.The payments are ridiculous, and we've had to drop other things--but I know he won't always be wanting to spend hours with us by Facetime! (I'd much rather talk on the home phone, but these days, I guess they're considered dinosaurs!)
His mom was worn out so much; they had stayed in the ER at the first hospital for hours--doing nothing. Then sent further to where his specialist is. She looked so stressed and tired, and she doesn't need stress because she has just discovered she has high blood pressure.
David's lips were so cracked and dry! They didn't know what they were going to do later, so he was given nothing at all to eat or drink until they had finished the tests.
They finally got enough stuff into him to get him fully cleaned out. Then, in the night, they did the two tests. Kristi told me they found about 16 small ulcers in the lower left side of his intestine. (He had been complaining to his mom that his stomach hurt on that side about all the time.)
They took a biopsy, but it hasn't come back yet, so I'm, (we're all!), waiting to hear from that, and thinking that the doctor will put him on Humara. (Humira?) I see ads on TV a lot, and it's supposed to be the best thing they have to fight Crohn's and other intestinal diseases.
His doctor had started out with some other pill that he hoped would work. Now, he's finally thinking that a strong biologic will perhaps put David into remission. It will be an injection every two weeks. I am so hoping that this will put him into remission. At least we'd know that the doctor is serious now. (Oh--they also gave David an iron infusion at the hospital, because he bleeds and he needs iron.) He may need blood transfusions--but they're hoping the iron will do the job right now.
I don't even know if you'll be able to understand what I've written! I know it's probably jumbled---my mind doesn't seem to want to put these words on paper!
This blog, I was hoping, would be a place to write about life, and entertaining thoughts--but right now, I would ask that you keep praying for David's biopsy to turn out good! Thank you so much for praying! There's so much going on with this, it's hard for me to think of anything else.
I'll let you know as I hear more. I'm sorry I can't think of anything else to write about these days. If you have kids or grandkids--I know you understand.
the wanderer
I've got some news about David, but not all--and I'll try to tell you why.....
Last Thursday, while going to school, David told his mom that his stomach ached and he just didn't feel good. She said, "Well, you'll feel better when you get there!", and sometimes, he does.
Not that day. Before he could check into his homeroom, he vomited up-- mostly blood. First, they took him to a local hospital, and then after a few hours, he was at the children's hospital with his own doctor.
Long story short (and it was not a short day for David), and because hospitals take forever to get anything done---the day was long and slow.
He kept us up, (by Facetime) on things as much as he could. He often calls when he's at the pond fishing, which is why, as long as I can afford it--I'll keep this iPhone.The payments are ridiculous, and we've had to drop other things--but I know he won't always be wanting to spend hours with us by Facetime! (I'd much rather talk on the home phone, but these days, I guess they're considered dinosaurs!)
His mom was worn out so much; they had stayed in the ER at the first hospital for hours--doing nothing. Then sent further to where his specialist is. She looked so stressed and tired, and she doesn't need stress because she has just discovered she has high blood pressure.
David's lips were so cracked and dry! They didn't know what they were going to do later, so he was given nothing at all to eat or drink until they had finished the tests.
They finally got enough stuff into him to get him fully cleaned out. Then, in the night, they did the two tests. Kristi told me they found about 16 small ulcers in the lower left side of his intestine. (He had been complaining to his mom that his stomach hurt on that side about all the time.)
They took a biopsy, but it hasn't come back yet, so I'm, (we're all!), waiting to hear from that, and thinking that the doctor will put him on Humara. (Humira?) I see ads on TV a lot, and it's supposed to be the best thing they have to fight Crohn's and other intestinal diseases.
His doctor had started out with some other pill that he hoped would work. Now, he's finally thinking that a strong biologic will perhaps put David into remission. It will be an injection every two weeks. I am so hoping that this will put him into remission. At least we'd know that the doctor is serious now. (Oh--they also gave David an iron infusion at the hospital, because he bleeds and he needs iron.) He may need blood transfusions--but they're hoping the iron will do the job right now.
I don't even know if you'll be able to understand what I've written! I know it's probably jumbled---my mind doesn't seem to want to put these words on paper!
This blog, I was hoping, would be a place to write about life, and entertaining thoughts--but right now, I would ask that you keep praying for David's biopsy to turn out good! Thank you so much for praying! There's so much going on with this, it's hard for me to think of anything else.
I'll let you know as I hear more. I'm sorry I can't think of anything else to write about these days. If you have kids or grandkids--I know you understand.
the wanderer
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
Will You Please Pray......
for David?
He's in very depressed, down place. He has told his dad he doesn't want to live this life with Crohns. Not any longer.
My son has called us to come. He called out of desperation, and we're going in the morning to let him, and all 4 of them know that we are just there to talk, and love, and give hugs and comfort, cook and do laundry ---and whatever else helps! So will gather our things, gird up our loins, and go.
My heart hurts for my little grandson, who just had life moment change to a teenager. Who cannot grab,
right now, enough hope from himself to think that living will be all worth it in the end.
Just please think and, if you believe, pray for a young, and sweet boy who is living in a dark place right now!
Thank you. ❤
the wanderer
He's in very depressed, down place. He has told his dad he doesn't want to live this life with Crohns. Not any longer.
My son has called us to come. He called out of desperation, and we're going in the morning to let him, and all 4 of them know that we are just there to talk, and love, and give hugs and comfort, cook and do laundry ---and whatever else helps! So will gather our things, gird up our loins, and go.
My heart hurts for my little grandson, who just had life moment change to a teenager. Who cannot grab,
right now, enough hope from himself to think that living will be all worth it in the end.
Just please think and, if you believe, pray for a young, and sweet boy who is living in a dark place right now!
Thank you. ❤
the wanderer
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Cows, Foot and Mouth Disease, and stuff
I just had to share a thought or three with ya'll.
I remember the time Daddy and Mama were in the front seat and I was in the backseat. We rode by a dairy farm. The beautiful cows were enclosed in their fence, right there...just fence and the ditch-bank between us. I just sat, mesmerized by what I saw, dreaming about how completely and absolutely sweet their eyes looked. So peaceful. Lovely and peaceful were their eyes---all of them alike.
I opened my mouth, like 5-year-olds will, and said aloud what I wondered about.
"I wonder if we are "born again", would God let me come back as a cow?" (Good listener at church, I was. NOT! We were Baptists, not Hindu!)
Mama's head swirled around. "Where did you learn about Hinduism??!"
I could tell she was not happy---after all, we were Southern Baptists! But, I thought to myself, what is Hinduism?
I asked what that word meant and she explained the best she could to her 5-year-old.
"Will they really come back as cows, Mama?"
She said no, that God doesn't let people come back as animals like that. He made us in His image, Adam from dust, and Eve from Adam's rib. Then she wondered, again, why I wanted to "come back as a cow."
" 'Cause, Mama---look! They're so peaceful and happy! They seem to have ---like...like a peace in them. Don't you see it?"
She and Daddy had stopped their arguing when I mentioned my peaceful cow wish. They were quiet. All the way home. Their quiet didn't last through the night, though.
No, it wasn't peaceful at my home when I, at night, often went into the woods. It was near our house, but far enough to where I couldn't hear them. I slept out there. It was peaceful. When I came in the next morning, no one ever said a thing.
I also spent some time, later on, playing my own game of "hide and seek". (This is not a game I'd dare again. Who knows who they really suspected!?)
They hid bottles, and I came upon them under the linens, in drawers, the wardrobe, etc. I would take them out to the woods, pour it all out, throw the bottles as far as I could.
Satisfying sound. I remember one phase I went through where I would fill the bottles with water and replace them. ( I was really "feeling it" after all those years.) My brothers had already moved out.
Strangely enough, neither of my parents Ever said anything to me about any of it. I guess they knew....
This "Silent Disease" is really deafening at times, huh?
Mama and Daddy both stopped drinking when we explained to them that our new baby, Sherry, couldn't stay with them. I just wanted her to be safe, I told them.
They both looked stricken, but honestly, I never intended it to ever hurt them. Soon, Mama went into a state hospital, staying months, and continued going to AA meetings. We went and took Sherry,(apparently the "golden child") twice a week when we were allowed.
Daddy had about stopped drinking anyway. He stayed with us from suppertime through breakfast and went on with his day.
Sherry was only 4 when Daddy died. We had Mama move in with us for almost a year. She found her calling just like her mother, (my precious Bammie). They both found many widows who were afraid to stay alone. So they, in their own eras, had them to look after! They loved them each one like family, and we got to know them, too.
I was 21 when Daddy died, the very same age Mama was when her daddy, 49, was hit and killed on the way home from a little store. He was found in a ditch. Maybe he didn't suffer, I hope; it was 10 days before Christmas Day that year.
Daddy's daddy passed away from cancer at age 49---when Daddy was 21.
Truth really is stranger than fiction, huh!
This post has really wandered more than usual---if you made it this far. From peaceful cows to this stuff. 😎
I wish peaceful thoughts to youall. ❤
'the wanderer'
I remember the time Daddy and Mama were in the front seat and I was in the backseat. We rode by a dairy farm. The beautiful cows were enclosed in their fence, right there...just fence and the ditch-bank between us. I just sat, mesmerized by what I saw, dreaming about how completely and absolutely sweet their eyes looked. So peaceful. Lovely and peaceful were their eyes---all of them alike.
I opened my mouth, like 5-year-olds will, and said aloud what I wondered about.
"I wonder if we are "born again", would God let me come back as a cow?" (Good listener at church, I was. NOT! We were Baptists, not Hindu!)
Mama's head swirled around. "Where did you learn about Hinduism??!"
I could tell she was not happy---after all, we were Southern Baptists! But, I thought to myself, what is Hinduism?
I asked what that word meant and she explained the best she could to her 5-year-old.
"Will they really come back as cows, Mama?"
She said no, that God doesn't let people come back as animals like that. He made us in His image, Adam from dust, and Eve from Adam's rib. Then she wondered, again, why I wanted to "come back as a cow."
" 'Cause, Mama---look! They're so peaceful and happy! They seem to have ---like...like a peace in them. Don't you see it?"
She and Daddy had stopped their arguing when I mentioned my peaceful cow wish. They were quiet. All the way home. Their quiet didn't last through the night, though.
No, it wasn't peaceful at my home when I, at night, often went into the woods. It was near our house, but far enough to where I couldn't hear them. I slept out there. It was peaceful. When I came in the next morning, no one ever said a thing.
I also spent some time, later on, playing my own game of "hide and seek". (This is not a game I'd dare again. Who knows who they really suspected!?)
They hid bottles, and I came upon them under the linens, in drawers, the wardrobe, etc. I would take them out to the woods, pour it all out, throw the bottles as far as I could.
Satisfying sound. I remember one phase I went through where I would fill the bottles with water and replace them. ( I was really "feeling it" after all those years.) My brothers had already moved out.
Strangely enough, neither of my parents Ever said anything to me about any of it. I guess they knew....
This "Silent Disease" is really deafening at times, huh?
Mama and Daddy both stopped drinking when we explained to them that our new baby, Sherry, couldn't stay with them. I just wanted her to be safe, I told them.
They both looked stricken, but honestly, I never intended it to ever hurt them. Soon, Mama went into a state hospital, staying months, and continued going to AA meetings. We went and took Sherry,(apparently the "golden child") twice a week when we were allowed.
Daddy had about stopped drinking anyway. He stayed with us from suppertime through breakfast and went on with his day.
Sherry was only 4 when Daddy died. We had Mama move in with us for almost a year. She found her calling just like her mother, (my precious Bammie). They both found many widows who were afraid to stay alone. So they, in their own eras, had them to look after! They loved them each one like family, and we got to know them, too.
I was 21 when Daddy died, the very same age Mama was when her daddy, 49, was hit and killed on the way home from a little store. He was found in a ditch. Maybe he didn't suffer, I hope; it was 10 days before Christmas Day that year.
Daddy's daddy passed away from cancer at age 49---when Daddy was 21.
Truth really is stranger than fiction, huh!
This post has really wandered more than usual---if you made it this far. From peaceful cows to this stuff. 😎
I wish peaceful thoughts to youall. ❤
'the wanderer'
Friday, August 11, 2017
I AM STILL HERE....AND THERE
It's been a long time, I know since I posted. I was really enjoying showing you old pictures and introducing you to my ancestors. I'll have to see if I can find some more.
Judy,
http://judeself.blogspot.com/
at "Onward and Upward--Ever Forward", does the most delightful ancestry books for people. I want to get one done for my son as soon as the extra money comes to me. I want very much to have pictures of it, but I realized the other month or so, that I don't have very many pictures of the grandparents, etc., on his father's side, and I don't know where to get any. People are dying as we get older, and I don't know where their pictures are getting to.
I have more of my family---but I haven't been able to find enough to really get a good book together. I think it would be a much better book on your ancestors if there were at least some pictures. You can go to her website, and I think her blog has something on the sidebar about her works on ancestry books on families. They are so very well researched, and done very well in a bound book. So again, it's here :
Done so nicely with a beautiful cover and a "family tree" on the front. It has heavy paper, she goes and has it all bound together, and spends a lot of her own money for the places you go to search, and that costs her money every month. Please go and have a look for yourself, her prices are very reasonable and she even gives you a payment plan! I wish I remembered how to link to blogs with just putting it under 'here', and the link is there.
Oh, my poor mind! Will someone refresh my memory on this?
Have a good weekend, and when I have something awesome to say--I promise I'll get off my fingers and type!
Oh--by the way, my grandson, who has Crohn's, just turned 13. We were up there for 4 days for his birthday. The doctors have him on meds for the disease, and they have him on a mild dose of an antidepressant, and also a mild sleeping pill.
Yes, it does bother me to think of him having to have those, but they have tried to take him off it, and he did very poorly without it. You know, he's like all of us and can look on Google and read all about how it is. Crohn's is horrible disease and it makes you fear even going out to dinner someplace, because of stomach cramps and diarrhea. He didn't even go out for his birthday but stayed home and they brought him something. There are so many things he is finding he can't eat.
That deprivation is hard on all people---whether you live to eat or eat to live. I can't even explain to you what this is doing to him, and all of us.
Please pray for our boy, David, who is turning into a teenager, but hasn't caught up with others that age. Oh, he's very smart, he's always made straight A's, but the disease is one that keeps you from reaching puberty at the usual age if it comes on early. And we don't even know how long he's had it--perhaps he was born with it.
It's so hard. And we love him with all our hearts.
the wanderer
Judy,
http://judeself.blogspot.com/
at "Onward and Upward--Ever Forward", does the most delightful ancestry books for people. I want to get one done for my son as soon as the extra money comes to me. I want very much to have pictures of it, but I realized the other month or so, that I don't have very many pictures of the grandparents, etc., on his father's side, and I don't know where to get any. People are dying as we get older, and I don't know where their pictures are getting to.
I have more of my family---but I haven't been able to find enough to really get a good book together. I think it would be a much better book on your ancestors if there were at least some pictures. You can go to her website, and I think her blog has something on the sidebar about her works on ancestry books on families. They are so very well researched, and done very well in a bound book. So again, it's here :
Done so nicely with a beautiful cover and a "family tree" on the front. It has heavy paper, she goes and has it all bound together, and spends a lot of her own money for the places you go to search, and that costs her money every month. Please go and have a look for yourself, her prices are very reasonable and she even gives you a payment plan! I wish I remembered how to link to blogs with just putting it under 'here', and the link is there.
Oh, my poor mind! Will someone refresh my memory on this?
Have a good weekend, and when I have something awesome to say--I promise I'll get off my fingers and type!
Oh--by the way, my grandson, who has Crohn's, just turned 13. We were up there for 4 days for his birthday. The doctors have him on meds for the disease, and they have him on a mild dose of an antidepressant, and also a mild sleeping pill.
Yes, it does bother me to think of him having to have those, but they have tried to take him off it, and he did very poorly without it. You know, he's like all of us and can look on Google and read all about how it is. Crohn's is horrible disease and it makes you fear even going out to dinner someplace, because of stomach cramps and diarrhea. He didn't even go out for his birthday but stayed home and they brought him something. There are so many things he is finding he can't eat.
That deprivation is hard on all people---whether you live to eat or eat to live. I can't even explain to you what this is doing to him, and all of us.
Please pray for our boy, David, who is turning into a teenager, but hasn't caught up with others that age. Oh, he's very smart, he's always made straight A's, but the disease is one that keeps you from reaching puberty at the usual age if it comes on early. And we don't even know how long he's had it--perhaps he was born with it.
It's so hard. And we love him with all our hearts.
the wanderer
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
THE (belated) MOTHER'S DAY POST!
Happy Mother's Day (belated)! These were my flowers. I know, my phone pictures are awful but they were lovely. I had to leave them the day after I got them to see the children. My children sent them to me! My "children" means our son and his family of four!
Well, I meant well. I really did. This is me, folks..always meaning well, but faiing.! ;) No blogging about belts and pads, and Seventeen Mag of olden days, in case you've been panting with curiosity. Ahem. Or with dread.
Thank you, Judy, (I'm not going to link...), for mentioning a "body shift". I've just had the 2nd one that I could absolutely tell, and it was scary. The first happened about 8 years ago when I was about 60, (I have had no female organs left, by the way---since I was 48. BLECH!), then, this month, I sat up on the edge of the bed, and boom, another "slumping feeling". It has really done a real number on my right shoulder, which was already a problem. A number all over, really. :)
Now it seems as if my spine is turning forward and toward the right and curving round. My body was "shakey" this week, although heat and cold helped neck and back for awhile--nothing else really does. I can't take anything but Tylenol Arthritis, because of Coumadin therapy--and blood clots. My BP is dropping and raising, too. (Sounds like I'm on the way out of this world, lol! Ba-Bye?!) This all started last year. On top of Fibromyalgia.
I have to get an MRI and a heart workup done soon. ugh.
Hubby and I are afraid to touch their Keurig 2.0s. (We have a 1.0 at home---scary enough.) Mr. Coffee---where did you go?
They have stairs. I can just pull on the railing and not worry about my cane. Thank goodness, my husband follows me, or all 5 people in the house would, from my son and wife on down--including dil's mom, who lives in the MIL suite in the basement. She is one year older than I, and in fine health, and she can help DIL and son with so much.
My grandson, who will be 13 in 3 months, was diagnosed with Crohn's last year, maybe youall remember. He's been doing pretty good, but now they'll wean him off the prednisone which has helped build him up so much. We are so praying that cures for this disease will be on the way and relieve a lot of suffering for so many. He has a good attitude, and as long as he can fish after school. he's happy. Both kids make straight A's, every grade, so far. He was sick today and feeling blue, we were leaving, too. My snuggleboy is growing up and is so confused. Puberty, WHY??
My only granddaughter turns 10 on the 23rd. A super funny, independent, smart gazeIle. She is an early puberty girl, and right now, is fine. I let her open her presents before we left. We've been here since Sat. afternoon, and will leave tomorrow afternoon. She's waiting to go camping (to Governor's camp.) after school ends.
It's been has been so hard on DIL this week, with a sinus thing. Her dryer stopped working the night before we left to come. It wasn't a great week for her---she's a great mother. We kept it low-key, and that's my style. It was different, but in no way bad, because we were together. but we also laughed until we cried about old memories, movies, and at the kids still being kids!
It wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly fine with me. I had my cane but rarely used it. Played silly games like "Never Have I Ever" with grandkids; got outside and visited with G.S. David and the newest cat. Pop went to watch David fish. David caught one, Pop was asleep. (MeMe would have stayed away!)
Had alone laughs with my son, watching old music videos of his generation. We love to bet if one can remember more than the other. Guess who won! (No, not me.) (No, no metal!) He had his cell phone on the sly. Cheat! I was still able to keep up, though. I loved it. I love that hardworking "boy" more than he'll ever know.
Was able to make chicken salad and a dip at home that disappeared fast after we got here on Saturday.
Met my goal to be there Saturday by 3 pm, and we were. Though I achieved other outtings" Weds., Thursday night, and Friday, I made it.
Whew!! I was wiped out, still am, and oh, so thankful. Hope your weekend was super, and this week even
better!
...Try again. Fail again. Fail better. (S. Beckett)
 |
Well, I meant well. I really did. This is me, folks..always meaning well, but faiing.! ;) No blogging about belts and pads, and Seventeen Mag of olden days, in case you've been panting with curiosity. Ahem. Or with dread.
Thank you, Judy, (I'm not going to link...), for mentioning a "body shift". I've just had the 2nd one that I could absolutely tell, and it was scary. The first happened about 8 years ago when I was about 60, (I have had no female organs left, by the way---since I was 48. BLECH!), then, this month, I sat up on the edge of the bed, and boom, another "slumping feeling". It has really done a real number on my right shoulder, which was already a problem. A number all over, really. :)
Now it seems as if my spine is turning forward and toward the right and curving round. My body was "shakey" this week, although heat and cold helped neck and back for awhile--nothing else really does. I can't take anything but Tylenol Arthritis, because of Coumadin therapy--and blood clots. My BP is dropping and raising, too. (Sounds like I'm on the way out of this world, lol! Ba-Bye?!) This all started last year. On top of Fibromyalgia.
I have to get an MRI and a heart workup done soon. ugh.
Hubby and I are afraid to touch their Keurig 2.0s. (We have a 1.0 at home---scary enough.) Mr. Coffee---where did you go?
They have stairs. I can just pull on the railing and not worry about my cane. Thank goodness, my husband follows me, or all 5 people in the house would, from my son and wife on down--including dil's mom, who lives in the MIL suite in the basement. She is one year older than I, and in fine health, and she can help DIL and son with so much.
My grandson, who will be 13 in 3 months, was diagnosed with Crohn's last year, maybe youall remember. He's been doing pretty good, but now they'll wean him off the prednisone which has helped build him up so much. We are so praying that cures for this disease will be on the way and relieve a lot of suffering for so many. He has a good attitude, and as long as he can fish after school. he's happy. Both kids make straight A's, every grade, so far. He was sick today and feeling blue, we were leaving, too. My snuggleboy is growing up and is so confused. Puberty, WHY??
My only granddaughter turns 10 on the 23rd. A super funny, independent, smart gazeIle. She is an early puberty girl, and right now, is fine. I let her open her presents before we left. We've been here since Sat. afternoon, and will leave tomorrow afternoon. She's waiting to go camping (to Governor's camp.) after school ends.
It's been has been so hard on DIL this week, with a sinus thing. Her dryer stopped working the night before we left to come. It wasn't a great week for her---she's a great mother. We kept it low-key, and that's my style. It was different, but in no way bad, because we were together. but we also laughed until we cried about old memories, movies, and at the kids still being kids!
It wasn't perfect, but it was perfectly fine with me. I had my cane but rarely used it. Played silly games like "Never Have I Ever" with grandkids; got outside and visited with G.S. David and the newest cat. Pop went to watch David fish. David caught one, Pop was asleep. (MeMe would have stayed away!)
Had alone laughs with my son, watching old music videos of his generation. We love to bet if one can remember more than the other. Guess who won! (No, not me.) (No, no metal!) He had his cell phone on the sly. Cheat! I was still able to keep up, though. I loved it. I love that hardworking "boy" more than he'll ever know.
Was able to make chicken salad and a dip at home that disappeared fast after we got here on Saturday.
Met my goal to be there Saturday by 3 pm, and we were. Though I achieved other outtings" Weds., Thursday night, and Friday, I made it.
Whew!! I was wiped out, still am, and oh, so thankful. Hope your weekend was super, and this week even
better!
 |
| David and Graham |
...Try again. Fail again. Fail better. (S. Beckett)
Monday, April 10, 2017
CAN YOU REMEMBER THINGS LIKE THIS, TOO?
You know, I'm thinking back too much on the blog this month or so. But I'm just going to torture you anyway continue on...
It got me started thinking this time, when I channeled up to see an older "college professor" (He said!), who was in bed with what looked like a very uncertain, sad, young teenaged girl. (Yeah, you can let your mind stay in the gutter a bit, because he was trash.)
It made me think about all sorts of stuff. (I'm such a thinker, ya know. My brain is filled with minutia!)
Okay Yes, I needed Spell Check to spell minutia.
I was never put in the poor TV girl's position, but when I was an 8th grader in high school, I, (like so many of us innocent girls), was undressed ---by a trashy teacher's eyes, anyway.
He "taught" my Study Hall. 'While I happened to be coming from the rest room one day, my elderly,say... 30-year-old ,"teacher" was leering smiling as I came nearer. It was his usual smile, (sleazy), seemingly saying, "Hail, young maiden! I can see right through your clothes!" That smile wasn't reserved for just me, though--all of the female population at school was his target.
(Oh, segue! Remember Seventeen Magazine?? I adored Colleen Corby! I wanted to be her! But that's for another tale for another day!)
So...he stopped me to ask me a question. When teachers stopped you for anything back then--you stopped!
"Hey, Trudy! If I said you had a good body , would you hold it against me?"
I stuttered. I furrowed my eyebrow, waited, and wondered what the right answer was. If I said "Yes.", it would mean that I also thought I did. If I said "No", well wouldn't it mean the same, really?
Yes, I've always been :
1. Paranoid.
2. Un-trusting
3. An idiot.
4. Billions of complicated things.
5. Dumb as a box of rocks.
To preserve what little honor I had garnered in my 13 years on earth, I said "Yes.I.Would!"
I felt sure he could tell that I was looking down my nose at him, preserving my dignity! Or I hoped it looked like that!
(However, that " Yes" was the 'wrong' answer.)
When I said that, (I felt like running, screaming down the hall for "help",peeing on myself), he pounced....
He looked like a very large, leering rat, grinning like a possum. (Do you think rats can leer?) His triumphant pig-like eyes swept over my body,what there was of it-. He was a low-class mixture of many rodents---such as mice, rats, squirrels. He was a teacher above all no teachers.
Oh---and though I was no Aphrodite, I did have thar special quality. I was a living, breathing, half-grown, naive female.
"Well, hold it against me then!" He commanded, with a laugh that I still think was demonic, snorting at his poor joke someone else had obviously made up, He had tried it on the most pathetic, idiotic girl in high school...and how many more were there, just like me?
I know I looked more shocked than you might have....or maybe not! You had to have been more "'cosmopolitan" than I, no matter where you were from! Maybe a male teacher has taken advantage of you, though?
I was lucky to be rescued by our principal, our wonderful Mr.Bodkin, whose soft, squeaky shoes alerted both student and teacher alike, that he, "THE MAN", was coming our way.
(Mr. Bodkin was one of the un-scariest men on earth, but he was mostly all business, and he ruled with a rod of, well,iron aluminium foil!)
But he was THE ROCK. He was THE MAN! The all-seeing OZ!
He had eyes in the back of his head, for Pete's sake!
Best of all---he saved the day for me.
I'll never know what the ROCK saved me from that day, but my study hallbabysitter teacher kept away from me the rest of that year. He was gone by the time I entered the 9th grade! Yay!
And Iprayed hoped he got drafted and sent to Vietnam, or even Canada! I know, it was crazy! But, it was still possible!
(We'll talk about Seventeen Magazine, "belts and pads" and more "coming-of-age stuff" when I can pull myself out of my "mind".)
What's left of it, anyway
It got me started thinking this time, when I channeled up to see an older "college professor" (He said!), who was in bed with what looked like a very uncertain, sad, young teenaged girl. (Yeah, you can let your mind stay in the gutter a bit, because he was trash.)
It made me think about all sorts of stuff. (I'm such a thinker, ya know. My brain is filled with minutia!)
Okay Yes, I needed Spell Check to spell minutia.
I was never put in the poor TV girl's position, but when I was an 8th grader in high school, I, (like so many of us innocent girls), was undressed ---by a trashy teacher's eyes, anyway.
He "taught" my Study Hall. 'While I happened to be coming from the rest room one day, my elderly,
(Oh, segue! Remember Seventeen Magazine?? I adored Colleen Corby! I wanted to be her! But that's for another tale for another day!)
So...he stopped me to ask me a question. When teachers stopped you for anything back then--you stopped!
"Hey, Trudy! If I said you had a good body , would you hold it against me?"
I stuttered. I furrowed my eyebrow, waited, and wondered what the right answer was. If I said "Yes.", it would mean that I also thought I did. If I said "No", well wouldn't it mean the same, really?
Yes, I've always been :
1. Paranoid.
2. Un-trusting
3. An idiot.
4. Billions of complicated things.
5. Dumb as a box of rocks.
To preserve what little honor I had garnered in my 13 years on earth, I said "Yes.I.Would!"
I felt sure he could tell that I was looking down my nose at him, preserving my dignity! Or I hoped it looked like that!
(However, that " Yes" was the 'wrong' answer.)
When I said that, (I felt like running, screaming down the hall for "help",
He looked like a very large, leering rat, grinning like a possum. (Do you think rats can leer?) His triumphant pig-like eyes swept over my body,
Oh---and though I was no Aphrodite, I did have thar special quality. I was a living, breathing, half-grown, naive female.
"Well, hold it against me then!" He commanded, with a laugh that I still think was demonic, snorting at his poor joke someone else had obviously made up, He had tried it on the most pathetic, idiotic girl in high school...and how many more were there, just like me?
I know I looked more shocked than you might have....or maybe not! You had to have been more "'cosmopolitan" than I, no matter where you were from! Maybe a male teacher has taken advantage of you, though?
I was lucky to be rescued by our principal, our wonderful Mr.Bodkin, whose soft, squeaky shoes alerted both student and teacher alike, that he, "THE MAN", was coming our way.
(Mr. Bodkin was one of the un-scariest men on earth, but he was mostly all business, and he ruled with a rod of, well,
But he was THE ROCK. He was THE MAN! The all-seeing OZ!
He had eyes in the back of his head, for Pete's sake!
Best of all---he saved the day for me.
I'll never know what the ROCK saved me from that day, but my study hall
And I
(We'll talk about Seventeen Magazine, "belts and pads" and more "coming-of-age stuff" when I can pull myself out of my "mind".)
What's left of it, anyway
Be ye kind, one to another.
Friday, March 31, 2017
IT'S HARD TO REMEMBER.....HA! JUST KIDDING!
...I may have already mentioned it, (I did, I know it! I think.), but it's hard for me to remember things more and more! It's sort of worrying--really. Maybe I've talked about it sort of in jest...but there's nothing much funny to me about it.
I can see your faces right now. "Can she ever discuss anything but remembering or not remembering?!"
How does one know when it's time to be worried about one's memory, anyway? As I've said before, it seems since I started falling at the first of January, 2016--because of my blood pressure suddenly dropping, they (all those "they's" being doctors), it's gotten worse. Maybe.
Did it happen when I had the pulmonary embolism last May, was in a coma for 2 days and the hospital for 3 weeks? (I must confess, after the surgery to get my blood regulated and the clots in my leg and hip broken up as much as possible---I cannot say I even hated being there. Isn't that somewhat terrible?) Maybe because I wasn't responsible for remembering everything--or anything!?
The nurses---male and female, (all much younger than I)---treated me like a Queen--well, maybe a Duchess, at least. It was quite obvious that I wasn't, if jewelry, or things I had in the room mattered. I had nothing with me, I had been put to sleep in our local hospital and a PIC line put in to make sure I would not have too constantly stuck with the things that were dripping into me. That meant I could only wear hospital gowns which were not beautiful, but they worked. The PIC stayed in til the day I got ready to come home, and we didn't get out of the hospital til 9 PM that evening!
As many people as I've heard complain about being at that hospital--they have all been men. I guess that isn't good to say, but I think most men have more, and higher expectations of nurses than I. I can speak for other women, even.
See what I mean bout memory? It's hard enough to stay on a topic long--and the topic was memory! I wandered off the topic and got into how wonderful the nurses were!
I'm very small town. I've hardly been out of my own state, except when the kids lived in Alabama. Never been on an airplane, never really have had many yearnings toward vacations since I've gotten older. It wouldn't have mattered--we mostly do what my husband wants to do, anyway. :)
Since he retired almost 8 years ago, he's been mostly sitting in his recliner, going to church, and going out a couple of nights a month to play music with some friends.We go to see the kids when there aren't appointments and things that slow all us older people down.
It's okay. My health hasn't been the best for the past year, and I'm still using a cane for balance when we go out. And I've had Fibromyalgia for over 20 years.
If I post this same thing again tomorrow--don't be alarmed. It's probably to late to help me now! :)
God bless you, bless one another!
I can see your faces right now. "Can she ever discuss anything but remembering or not remembering?!"
How does one know when it's time to be worried about one's memory, anyway? As I've said before, it seems since I started falling at the first of January, 2016--because of my blood pressure suddenly dropping, they (all those "they's" being doctors), it's gotten worse. Maybe.
Did it happen when I had the pulmonary embolism last May, was in a coma for 2 days and the hospital for 3 weeks? (I must confess, after the surgery to get my blood regulated and the clots in my leg and hip broken up as much as possible---I cannot say I even hated being there. Isn't that somewhat terrible?) Maybe because I wasn't responsible for remembering everything--or anything!?
The nurses---male and female, (all much younger than I)---treated me like a Queen--well, maybe a Duchess, at least. It was quite obvious that I wasn't, if jewelry, or things I had in the room mattered. I had nothing with me, I had been put to sleep in our local hospital and a PIC line put in to make sure I would not have too constantly stuck with the things that were dripping into me. That meant I could only wear hospital gowns which were not beautiful, but they worked. The PIC stayed in til the day I got ready to come home, and we didn't get out of the hospital til 9 PM that evening!
As many people as I've heard complain about being at that hospital--they have all been men. I guess that isn't good to say, but I think most men have more, and higher expectations of nurses than I. I can speak for other women, even.
See what I mean bout memory? It's hard enough to stay on a topic long--and the topic was memory! I wandered off the topic and got into how wonderful the nurses were!
I'm very small town. I've hardly been out of my own state, except when the kids lived in Alabama. Never been on an airplane, never really have had many yearnings toward vacations since I've gotten older. It wouldn't have mattered--we mostly do what my husband wants to do, anyway. :)
Since he retired almost 8 years ago, he's been mostly sitting in his recliner, going to church, and going out a couple of nights a month to play music with some friends.We go to see the kids when there aren't appointments and things that slow all us older people down.
It's okay. My health hasn't been the best for the past year, and I'm still using a cane for balance when we go out. And I've had Fibromyalgia for over 20 years.
My hubby has looked after me so well this past year, and I do so hate asking anyone to do any things for me, (Even nurses!), but when you can't get up because you've fractured your tailbone, or bruised your ribs, etc., or you may fall...you're fortunate to have someone who is willing to help you, and still love you. I eventually realized that instead of falling again and putting him to more trouble, (and my body through more), to ask if he could help me if I need something right then.
If I post this same thing again tomorrow--don't be alarmed. It's probably to late to help me now! :)
God bless you, bless one another!
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
BUT I FELT SAFE
Mama told me everything would be fine--about the water running down toward my little shoes, about Grama being with Jesus now. That Daddy was coming to help all of us. My daddy was a big man of about 6'3 and 235 lbs. His job was painting houses and building things. He was about a foot taller than Mama, and he had dark hair and hazel eyes. He was a good hugger to me!
Soon he came along on our old car with my brother, and I remember raising up my arms and him scooping me up and squeezing me to his rough cheek..
Then Daddy told my brother to take me on home, and for us to wait there. Everything was a whirl of activity in the days following, visitors, food, a wake, a funeral in the family cemetery just about 20 yards from Grama's house. After that day Sister had come running to our house with her snuff brush sticking out of her mouth. After Mama and I walked up there when Daddy got in, and when I found out somehow, that some people you love die, and sometimes they wet the bed when they do. I never forgot that day.
I felt safe the rest of that day, though. Safe --from the water running toward my feet, safe from very still, silent lady who looked just like my Grama (yet didn't look at all like her), from the confusion from the odd glances and hushed voices between Mama and Sister.
And from the water running -- running not just toward my shoes, but also down all our faces.
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| Sister, Grama, Grandma |
May God bless us, and may we bless one another.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
"REMEMBERING THE DAYS"
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| James and Malinda |
This is a picture of my daddy's maternal grandparents. She, Malinda, was the mother of my Grandma Edwards, and he, James, her father I didn't ever know him. I do remember her a bit, but barely.
What I remember very clearly is the day she died. I was not yet 4-years-old.
My daddy and my oldest brother were down in the swamp behind our little house. Great-grandma and my spinster aunt Lena (Have you heard the word "spinster" recently?) lived about half a mile from us. "Sister", which was Lena's nickname to our family, came running as fast as she could and told us that Grandma was not acting "well". Sister looked down at me, licked her fingers and tried with sincerity, but futility, to rub my cowlick down yet again.
She shook her head and looked at Mama and asked where Daddy was. Mama replied he was down at the river, cutting down beech trees with Lynn. Mama said she would run and get him, and that we would be up there soon.
I heard Sister said there was no need to hurry now, but Daddy would need to drive his car when he came.
She shook her head and looked at Mama and asked where Daddy was. Mama replied he was down at the river, cutting down beech trees with Lynn. Mama said she would run and get him, and that we would be up there soon.
I heard Sister said there was no need to hurry now, but Daddy would need to drive his car when he came.
Soon , we were walking up there, Mama and I---with Daddy in the kitchen at our house, trying to wash up a bit. I remember Mama holding my hand as we walked, and she talked in the voice she used when things weren't right but she didn't want me to know it. I may have been little, but I guess was what people called an "old soul."
When we got up there in just the minutes, Sister looked at Mama and shook her head slowly. Mama asked if it would be okay if I came in, too. She nodded, but murmured, "She wet the bed when she went; will you help me get things straight soon? Everyone will be coming when they hear."
(We didn't have phones, running water, or any sort of indoor plumbing, just like many people out in the country those days.)
"She wet the bed when she went...." kept running through my mind.
Wet the bed?
Gramma?
But that doesn't happen to grown-ups! Doesn't she know better? Even I don't do that anymore!
And the words "when she went"
Went where?
She was still lying on her high feather bed, fast asleep! I saw her through the doorway.
Gramma---she was still there! But, when I looked down.....there was something like water under her high bed. It was moving slowly , moving toward my shoes, and Mama shooed me out to the porch.
more next time, friends....may you bless and be blessed
"She wet the bed when she went...." kept running through my mind.
Wet the bed?
Gramma?
But that doesn't happen to grown-ups! Doesn't she know better? Even I don't do that anymore!
And the words "when she went"
Went where?
She was still lying on her high feather bed, fast asleep! I saw her through the doorway.
Gramma---she was still there! But, when I looked down.....there was something like water under her high bed. It was moving slowly , moving toward my shoes, and Mama shooed me out to the porch.
more next time, friends....may you bless and be blessed
Friday, January 20, 2017
JUST THINKING 'BOUT THIS PAST YEAR AGAIN...
I nearly wrote just thinning. That would describe my hair, especially on top. Female pattern baldness--yes, there is such a thing. For the last two years I have watched it, experienced it. Cried over it.. I don't know what is causing it--I know Mama had thicker, darker hair until it turned the most beautiful silver color in her later years. That's not gonna happen to me. I won't have enough hair to be silver, and I'm seriously thinking of going shopping for a wig.
The thing is---I can see myself in one...well, I haven't seen it. Now, I notice that I'm more self-conscious of it. there is really no decent haircut or any way I can comb it that it's not precariously THIN. Not fun. I don't want to think of myself as that vain, and I don't really feel I've ever been.
If you're out there, and your hair was so thin that the entire top of your hair was showing under a few strands of graying hair---what would you do?
Wear a hat? (I can tell you, wearing a baseball cap isn't me. Neither is one of those, well, NOT ANY hats. Not me.
Still do you think you could walk around, and, (as short as I am now --- 5'0") not flinch when anyone taller than you walks up to you and starts staring at your head. Oh, I know they don't mean to---but I might have done the same when I was younger. I don't remember---and that's another whole subject. Remembering things. That's one I don't think I'll get into this night.
You know, I wanted to start my blog back, but only if it ended up being worthy of your reading it, and if it made me happy. I am, unhappily, one of those people who is not goo at keeping something up that I start. I may ave Adult ADD. I mean really, too. My doctor has even observed that my focus is way more off than it was a few years ago. (That isn't a happy thing either.
I'm 67. I don't know how things are supposed to be. really. It has been a very stressful year. I have been falling a lot, and the doctor says it's probably caused by my blood pressure dropping. (But there is nothing he can do to stop it. ) It can easily go up into the red zone of being high blood pressure right afterward, too.
I know I also mentioned that in May, I got pneumonia, and came home from having a test done at the hospital lab with Hubby. Lots and lots of walking and I had to lean on Hubby to help me get into the house. When I got in, I took two Tylenol and got into my pjs, lay down in the recliner and went to sleep. He ran up to Food Lion and got a few groceries and some GatorAde and Ginger Ale in case I had the flu.
(Hubby doesn't' know how to do a thing in the house--cook, clean, nothing. He knows how to use the microwave, and heated canned soup and TV dinners in that for me when I had spent my almost month in the hospital! He doesn't like either of those, so he ate a lot of sandwiches or went up to Hardees or DQ. When I've fallen and couldn't walk for awhile, he's looked after me the best he could and I know it was all he could do to help.
But, I think you've heard most of this before.
I really want to share more about my grandson, David, who is 12. After moving and going into a new school, he was enduring a severe bullying by his "classmates" in the locker room---it took him 2 months to tell his dad and mom. He was ashamed.
David has always seemed unusually small to us, but you know--what IS normal?
He is much happier in the Christian Academy I mentioned than when he was at the public school, a teacher couldn't protect him from the other boys in the locker room. How he took a school picture and had a sweet smile on his face, I 'll never know. So, there was the good news of that...but we got more bad news in November. Worse news.....
David was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, which is an Irritable Bowel Disease---it is not curable, it is not terminal--usually. It severely disrupt growth patterns, permanently damages your digestive system from your throat all the way down. He has already lost bone density. We're hoping this doctor knows the right things to do. In the mean time--he'll have to go for Colonoscopies and Endoscopes about every 3 months, at least for this year. All his life to a certain extent. I just pray, and hope you will join me, that the doctors will find a way to come up with better meds, and treatments.
My poor sweet boy! He has to force down all that horrible tasting mess the night before, ( as we do before a colonoscopy), and then go under for the testing---just to see if there is more damage to his intestines. You know what he said when they diagnosed him, and his dad told him the name of the disease he had...and what it would mean.
He sank back onto his pillows with a sigh of relief.
He smiled and said, "At least, it's not cancer, Daddy!"
I'm sure that was something he had been imagining hearing when he came out of the anesthesia.
This week has been a pretty good one for him. Please pray for David. I also saw on "Nana Diana Takes a Break" blog, she had posted a link to a Go Fund ME page for a fellow blogger who's son has Crohn's and also a cancer. They're about to lose everything because he's got a lot of expenses and I don't think he can be under their insurance anymore.
http://sissieshabbycottage.blogspot.com/2017/01/my-son-jeffs-go-fund-me-story-an
d-nana.html
BLESSINGS TO YOU ALL!
The thing is---I can see myself in one...well, I haven't seen it. Now, I notice that I'm more self-conscious of it. there is really no decent haircut or any way I can comb it that it's not precariously THIN. Not fun. I don't want to think of myself as that vain, and I don't really feel I've ever been.
If you're out there, and your hair was so thin that the entire top of your hair was showing under a few strands of graying hair---what would you do?
Wear a hat? (I can tell you, wearing a baseball cap isn't me. Neither is one of those, well, NOT ANY hats. Not me.
Still do you think you could walk around, and, (as short as I am now --- 5'0") not flinch when anyone taller than you walks up to you and starts staring at your head. Oh, I know they don't mean to---but I might have done the same when I was younger. I don't remember---and that's another whole subject. Remembering things. That's one I don't think I'll get into this night.
You know, I wanted to start my blog back, but only if it ended up being worthy of your reading it, and if it made me happy. I am, unhappily, one of those people who is not goo at keeping something up that I start. I may ave Adult ADD. I mean really, too. My doctor has even observed that my focus is way more off than it was a few years ago. (That isn't a happy thing either.
I'm 67. I don't know how things are supposed to be. really. It has been a very stressful year. I have been falling a lot, and the doctor says it's probably caused by my blood pressure dropping. (But there is nothing he can do to stop it. ) It can easily go up into the red zone of being high blood pressure right afterward, too.
I know I also mentioned that in May, I got pneumonia, and came home from having a test done at the hospital lab with Hubby. Lots and lots of walking and I had to lean on Hubby to help me get into the house. When I got in, I took two Tylenol and got into my pjs, lay down in the recliner and went to sleep. He ran up to Food Lion and got a few groceries and some GatorAde and Ginger Ale in case I had the flu.
(Hubby doesn't' know how to do a thing in the house--cook, clean, nothing. He knows how to use the microwave, and heated canned soup and TV dinners in that for me when I had spent my almost month in the hospital! He doesn't like either of those, so he ate a lot of sandwiches or went up to Hardees or DQ. When I've fallen and couldn't walk for awhile, he's looked after me the best he could and I know it was all he could do to help.
But, I think you've heard most of this before.
I really want to share more about my grandson, David, who is 12. After moving and going into a new school, he was enduring a severe bullying by his "classmates" in the locker room---it took him 2 months to tell his dad and mom. He was ashamed.
David has always seemed unusually small to us, but you know--what IS normal?
He is much happier in the Christian Academy I mentioned than when he was at the public school, a teacher couldn't protect him from the other boys in the locker room. How he took a school picture and had a sweet smile on his face, I 'll never know. So, there was the good news of that...but we got more bad news in November. Worse news.....
David was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease, which is an Irritable Bowel Disease---it is not curable, it is not terminal--usually. It severely disrupt growth patterns, permanently damages your digestive system from your throat all the way down. He has already lost bone density. We're hoping this doctor knows the right things to do. In the mean time--he'll have to go for Colonoscopies and Endoscopes about every 3 months, at least for this year. All his life to a certain extent. I just pray, and hope you will join me, that the doctors will find a way to come up with better meds, and treatments.
My poor sweet boy! He has to force down all that horrible tasting mess the night before, ( as we do before a colonoscopy), and then go under for the testing---just to see if there is more damage to his intestines. You know what he said when they diagnosed him, and his dad told him the name of the disease he had...and what it would mean.
He sank back onto his pillows with a sigh of relief.
He smiled and said, "At least, it's not cancer, Daddy!"
I'm sure that was something he had been imagining hearing when he came out of the anesthesia.
This week has been a pretty good one for him. Please pray for David. I also saw on "Nana Diana Takes a Break" blog, she had posted a link to a Go Fund ME page for a fellow blogger who's son has Crohn's and also a cancer. They're about to lose everything because he's got a lot of expenses and I don't think he can be under their insurance anymore.
http://sissieshabbycottage.blogspot.com/2017/01/my-son-jeffs-go-fund-me-story-an
d-nana.html
BLESSINGS TO YOU ALL!
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