Emotions

It is so hard to have emotions that you can not explain. Actually, I guess, that only applies to negative emotions. It is perfectly acceptable to be happy without reason. I strive to maintain high spirits. Usually, I can. But, every now and then, I seem to crash from that loft perch...without reason. Being sad or mad, because something made you feel that way, is understandable. Acceptable. But just to wake, one day, feeling...unsettled. Tired. Gloomy. Bleh. It is just unacceptable. But I am having trouble finding my motivation, to do, anything. I will not give into this. Tomorrow will be better. Will. Be. Better. I have control of how I think. I only have to convince myself. Tomorrow will be better.

Family skeletons

My mother's family has been quite the mystery to me. Her mother died when she was 3, so she didn't seem to know much about them either...or elected not to share. That's the type of person she was. A few things have popped up over the years that piqued my curiosity. I discovered this weekend, that with the help of a few websites, I could put pieces of this puzzle together. When I ran out of pieces, that way, I reached out to one of the few family members I maintain contact with. I shared what I knew, she filled in some blanks.

As I don't want to out other people's skeletons, well anymore than I already have, inadvertently, I will only identify people by their relationship to me and initials. Here goes...

I discovered my grandfather (AA) was born May 11, 1916 and died May 19, 1973. He worked at a saw mill and his highest education was listed as 5th grade. Times were different back then. My grandmother (LG) made it through the 8th grade. Born March 18, 1920, she died at the age of 24, December 7, 1944. "Female problems" was the only explanation for her death that I ever heard. Kind of broad.

LG was AA's first wife, according to birth records, they had 4 children, 2 girls and a set of twin boys. One of those girls, NDA, was my mom. The other girl, MJA, is where one of the mysteries cropped up. Back when my mom was dying, MJA was tested to be a donor, but the test came back that they were not full siblings. A medical error? This weekend research, says no. MJA confirms that she was told by a paternal aunt, that her mother was pregnant with her before she met the man listed on her birth certificate. MJA said she never had any desire to pursue the matter. I wonder if she had never believed it, until that lab test came back?

After LG's death, AA married MLB. She had a son prior to their marriage, and they had 6 children together. One of those children died, so the family legend is, when MLB fell asleep while feeding the baby and rolled over and suffocated the child. That child, named Peggy, died July 1, 1949. They eventually had another daughter, they named Peggy. I'm sorry, that's just weird.

I have, so far, solved a couple of the mysteries I started with. I have accounted for all the siblings and their parentage. I discovered after the death of LG, her children went to live with relatives. My set of twin uncles were adopted at the age of 16, when, as I was told, "some shady shit went down."

I know my mom spent some time at Maryhurst. It is now a school for troubled girls. I don't know if it was the same back then. There are still a few unanswered questions, and a few untouched sources of information, so I may be adding later on.

My relative and I have started a dialogue. We have more in common than either of us imagined. Those kind of things that people on the outside, looking in, never know about. Funny, how someone can wear one face in public and be a completely different person behind closed doors. Everyone always told me how lucky I was. How sweet my mom was. And she was, to everyone else...to their faces. Behind closed doors, she was hateful. I sometimes wonder if that is why I never developed a relationship with her family...all I ever heard was nasty stuff about them. Behind those closed door, I was never safe. She let me know exactly what she thought of me. She was physically, emotionally and verbally abusive. Makes me wonder why I started on this quest to unravel her family tree. Maybe, I thought, I'd find some explanation for the person she turned out to be. I have no doubt she had a hard life, in those early years. But it still doesn't fly. I think I'll close this chapter, maybe unfinished, but this particular history holds nothing for me.

March 25

That's the date. Not a particularly special day. Just today. It's been 3 months since Christmas, and 9 months until Christmas. Six months until the grandson's 5th birthday. Heart worm medicine day, always on the 25th. Today, I noticed just a sprinkling of yellow along the freeway. Forsythia, the harbinger of Spring...and allergy season. I noticed some trees taking on a red hue, as they bud. Before long the world will be vivid green, fresh, and new. And itchy. I love Spring, except that one little ::tickle in the throat:: thing. However, we live in the Ohio Valley. We can not assume to have escaped the clutches of Winter until after Derby...at least. It has sleeted on Derby. I know, I was there. I look forward to the flowers, even if they make me sneeze. I look forward to warmer weather, and sandals! Here is hoping for an extended, warm, dry (but not too dry) stormless, Spring. I do not like hot weather. No hurry for Summer. That's my 2 cents for March 25th.

Random thoughts

I was reminded today of having a strange man walk in the front door of my house when I was about 12. I think it was the turning moment in my life that makes me want all the doors locked. He was, essentially, harmless. Of course we did not know that. He made it about half way across the room, before my Dad backed him back out the door. The man smelled of alcohol and was rambling about the gospel. We discovered, later, that he lived several houses down. Weird how stuff like that comes to mind.

Recently, I was thinking about a dog of mine. Jazz was a big, German Shepherd/Husky mix. One day I was out in the yard with Jazz, when he had to decide between something he wanted and minding me. With obvious regret, he minded me. There is a kid out there that doesn't know how lucky he was, or how hard it was for Jazz...and me. We only have control, when it is given to us. Allowed. Do you ever think about that? Jazz allowed me to keep him from mauling that kid. He wanted to take that kid out. He was capable of it. It is unlikely that I could have physically stopped it. I yelled, "Jazz, no!" He stopped, and looked between me and the kid. You could almost see the calculation, was it going to be worth it? He came back to me. I would not be surprised if the kid wet himself. He really should have. The dog had murderous intentions, it was obvious. The kid was an ass that had tormented and teased the dog at every opportunity. Kid was in my yard that day. Dog felt he had the right to protect his yard. Most dogs think we are the alpha. We make the rules, because they allow it. Cats, on the other hand, do not allow it. They think we are foolish for believing we can control anything. Kids fall somewhere in the middle. Some kids allow us the control, others laugh at our foolishness. Think I'm wrong? An adult sets a rule. Kid's options, follow or break the rule. Kid follows the rule, life is good. Kid breaks the rule, and kid gets punished. Kid's options, follow the rule from now on, or not, follow punishment, or not. It's those, or nots, that are a problem. Let me give an example: Kid breaks curfew. Kid gets grounded. Kid sneaks out window. Kid gets caught. Grounding is extended. Out the window again. See a pattern? That kid can disregard any attempt by the adult to make rules. So what does a parent do with a child that refuses to accept that the parent is in control? That is every parent's nightmare.

Okay, enough from my past. For now.

Dear Sandman,

Can we negotiate? I don't know what else I can offer. I invite you over. I try to be a good hostess.

Warm baths, sleepy tea, mediation, reading...downright drugs (prescribed). And, yet, I go to bed and am left struggling to just keep my eyes closed or I drop like a stone in a well, for a nap. It is so hard to be awake for a couple of hours, right smack in the middle of the night. Funny thing, I haven't felt any ill effect, yet. Of course, that will change if you continue to be a greedy bastard. What's a little sleep to you? Sorry, I shouldn't be nasty. More carrot, less stick. Come on over. Stick around a bit. How do you feel about handcuffs?

Do not limit me

I just saw an article that said women over a certain age, should not wear these things...

Of course, you were supposed to click through to find what type of faux pas you were making. I hate, HATE, hate, being told what I should or should not be doing based on my age. Or for that fact, my height, weight, race, or anything else. Yes, I am perfectly aware that some things do not work for me. I am, also, perfectly aware that some people don't seem to be able to figure that out on their own. But this just hit my pissed button on a day when I am already standing on a soap box. It's been a pissy sort of day. NO, let me rephrase, there have already been a couple of piss me off issues today. Otherwise, it's been a perfectly good day. But, I digress. And, yes, I am perfectly aware that I could have just said, I hate being told what to do. That would have hit the nail perfectly square on the head. So, there.

We don't meet people by accident...

I have, in my life, met a lot of people.

Some have merely passed through. Others have imprinted on my heart, mind and/or soul.

Many are still with me, in regular contact. I know what is going on in their lives. We share time, feelings, thoughts.

Others, due to whatever circumstances, have less contact. It does not mean they don't mean a great deal to me. I would be there if they asked. But I do not know the details of their lives. We occasionally touch base with each other.

And there are those, that I rarely see or talk to, but strings stretch back into the past that connect us. Shared blood. Shared memories. Shared history. Shared secrets. Something shared.

Facebook has become the place for me, and I suspect many people, where we maintain connections with others. It is so nice at the end of an evening out, to see everyone got home safe. Or just to know what my friends are thinking about at a particular moment. I have celebrated and mourned with people when they share their lives in this very public forum. I love being able to maintain that connection. Facebook also allows  me to maintain connections with those people that are, more, on the periphery of my life. Or, as I recently posted, to reconnect with people that had slipped away. I have been very surprised recently, when I see relationship updates, from people that I did not know had gotten divorced. Bravo for keeping your private life, private. As much as we all share, nobody wants to see that drama played out in a public forum.

I have also shared many private moments through messages. Like many people, I hate the phone. Though part of me mourns the loss of that intimate connection with another person. That one-on-one connection, where emotions are heard, and sometimes, communicates what isn't being said. I also think, sometimes, the reason we hate the phone so much, is because it requires us to give ourselves to one thing. It is hard to multitask while talking on the phone. Though, I will admit, there was a time when I did a lot of house cleaning that way. Maybe that is why I hate the phone! Look, a revelation! Who knew?

Anyway, wherever our paths crossed and wherever the road has taken us, I feel lucky to have shared some part in your life. I have amazing memories, from a life well spent, with an eclectic group of people. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Old dog

I was given a 4 week project at the beginning of January. It was expanded to six weeks, and now, indefinitely. Yesterday, I created a step-by-step instruction sheet, in PowerPoint, that will be used hospital wide as an education tool. I can see the potential, that it will be used company wide. It is being mocked up as a poster for the doctor's lounge. I am learning and expanding into things I never imagined. It is bizarre to hear someone refer to me as, a subject expert. I may be educating people, on a group basis, as other locations begin using the electronic medical record. I have become the expert. All on my own. This whole project was handed to me, carte blanche. This is what we want, figure out how to do it. And I have done it. It's nice to know I can still learn new tricks.

Catching up

I spent a good deal of yesterday evening "speaking" with an old friend. Speaking as in messaging. Old as in, wow! I had not talked to her in over 35 years, high school. No particular reason. Life happened. We headed in different directions. Our roads never crossed again. I am not big on looking up people from my past. For the most part, I figure they are part of the past for a reason. There are a few exceptions. In this case, she had sent me a Facebook request, sometime ago. I accepted, like I said, no reason not to. But that was the end of it. No communication. Then, last August I sent her a message. There is this anniversary in August, one of those, do you remember where you were days. I remember, I was with her. She did not see the message until yesterday. She laughed, she said she had the same memory every year too. We talked for the net few hours, catching up...husbands, kids, grand kids, jobs, hobbies, talents, envies, wishes and regrets...but not many. It takes a while to catch up. It was nice. We wished each other the best. Maybe we'll stay in touch. Maybe next August. Maybe in 35 years.

How horribly inadequate I am

I tried to find a particular blog entry this morning. Something I intended to share. Unfortunately, the search option on this blog only searches labels apparently. Something, I have been horribly inadequate about doing regularly. Not that it might have done me a ton of good, as I started out using fairly generic labels rather than having a list a mile long. Damn, that is frustrating. But then, let's look on the bright side...I can still remember what it was I was looking for, even if I can't find it.

Here I sit...

in need of therapy. So, I write. It's what I do. You can wander off to other things. Nothing of interest today. Just me and my old friend anxiety. I deal so well, day to day, then I hit a wall and like an egg the facade shatters. It only takes one wrong turn, in one wrong moment, on any given day and Kapow! as they used to say in the old Batman TV show. I have no idea what the stumbling block was today, just a random assortment of trivial crap. Trivial, equals really doesn't matter so I can't even say why it makes me anxious. Why does anything make me anxious? Damn anxiety producing trivial crap screwing up my day. Nope, not going to happen. Time for a re-set. Ctrl + Alt +Delete, ok that only works for a computer. Hot bath...my equivalent. Maybe a hot tea. Disappear into a book? Guess that makes my short cut, bath + bev + book. Still here? Wondering why? I warned you.