I am thankful.
I am very thankful I was born in a country where opportunity abounds. I am thankful was born to parents who thought I was a damn fine child. I am thankful I was taught how to behave and I was educated in good schools. I had nothing whatever to do with any of those things---I was just fortunate, while many in this world are not. Thank you, Lord.
I am thankful for my wife, who loves me and uplifts me in all I do. I am thankful for my children, who still care enough about me to call occasionally. I am thankful for my brother, who has been a great assistance to me. I am thankful for friends, who offer understanding and words of support.
I am thankful for the beauty of our world and the colors of the trees and skies and mountains and plains. I am thankful I had a grandfather who took me fishing as a child and allowed me to know the joys of experiencing nature and the thrill of a tug on the ole fishin' pole.
I am thankful for sports. I am thankful I could play baseball and football and basketball when I was young. I am thankful for the wonderful foods we eat and the huge diversity of flavors and aromas.
I am thankful for family pets like dogs and cats. I view them as ambassadors of God, sent to us to ease our stress and provide us with understanding and love.
I am thankful for those I encounter who offer a smile or words of encouragement in a trying time. I am thankful for a comfortable chair, a hot mug of coffee, a cool glass of wine, a warm fire. I am thankful for a guitar on a cold, dark and lonely night. There is no greater friend in time of need, other than Jesus.
I am thankful for God the Father and Jesus and the Holy Spirit, who have made my life possible. May God bless you all as He has me.
Call these the music, poetry, fact and fiction of a dreamer....Call this LYRICS of LOVE and LORE.
Wednesday, November 27, 2019
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
My Life These Days
Greetings, my old blogger friends. It's been so long since I blogged that it took me a few minutes to figure it out, but I think I have it now. Use it or lose it, I guess.
Anyhoo, after much urging by certain family members and friends, I have decided to share a little of what's shakin' in my life these days.
Several years ago I began keeping a diary. Not your typical diary. My diary is an extensive compilation of what I do each day---not just what I do, but also what I am thinking. This exercise takes up quite a bit of time, I suppose, so I gradually found I had less and less time to blog. I guess you could say the diary won out over the blog, although I do miss the blog and my old friends.
Whatever. But sometimes things happen to me that are just so suited for a blog. The following is such a case:
My mom is in her mid-90s and is living the good life in a retirement community in Georgia. From my home in east Tennessee, I go visit her several days a month. I usually squire her around to various places she needs to go---grocery store, doctor, dentist, cleaners, drug store, beauty shop, you name it. We have a good time.
This retirement community is a sprawling development of hundreds of houses and apartments on hundreds of acres. There are hundreds of retired folks living there. There are activities galore. The food is excellent. The huge staff is courteous and efficient. In short, I cannot think of a better place for my mom.
Last month Cindy and I went there for a visit. After a day of taking mom around to her shopping spots, we relaxed in her apartment. It was decided we would go to "The Pub" (an on-site bar) for some liquid refreshments. The pub was crowded. We discovered that the crowd was unusually large because a show was planned. The entertainment was a resident who spins old 78 records and makes comments about the music. Sort of an octogenarian disc jockey. Music selections were from the 1940s. Not exactly my kind of music but if it makes people happy, fine.
So we go in. find an out-of-the-way table for the three of us, order a drink and sit back and begin to converse. Then we decided to have another pop and we also ordered some dinner.
As we were enjoying the conversation, we were approached by this attractive lady who said, "I would appreciate it if you do not talk during the "show" and also please remember to applaud after each record has been played---the disc jockey has worked very hard on this".
As she haughtily moved to the next table to tell them the same thing (she went to all twenty or so tables in the Pub), I realized that we were experiencing a bully at work and I do not do well with bullies. Never have. So I said in a loud voice, "Lady, we will be talking when we want to."
I could see that she did not like being confronted but she kept going around to all the tables, pissing people off. Most folks don't like to be told what they can do and when they can do it. And besides, did you ever try to tell people in a bar to stop talking after they have just consumed several alcoholic bevs?
Well, the woman goes around the pub and on her way back to her table she made a snide comment to me. OK, I thought, let that be the end of it. But no---after the first record was spun, she made a point of clapping in a wildly exaggerated manner, all the while looking at us. She was harassing us. In our space. My blood was now beginning to get up, and I could not help myself when I firmly said, "Lady, mind your own damn business."
With that, the gentleman sitting next to her began to turn around to appraise the developing situation. As he turned I said to him, "You want in on this?" He returned to his former position. Now I grant you that there is something unseemly about two old geezers gettin' it on in a retirement home bar, but the affair was defused, so all's well that ends well, I suppose. But it was an upsetting few moments for my mom, who just wants to get along.
Fast forward to this month when we visited mom yet again. On our way back to her apartment after errands, we approached the automatic entry gate--- a wrought-iron contraption that opens when a car approaches with the proper ID. There was a car in front of us at the gate. As is customary, when the gate opened, I drove behind the car in front of us to enter the grounds.
As I got just inside the gate, the car in front of me suddenly stopped. I thought to myself, "What the heck is going on?" Here I was---stopped and trapped at the gate entry, and there was now also a car behind me waiting to get in. I was stuck between two cars. I threw up my hands in bewilderment.
A lady emerged from the car in front, yelling at me and approaching our car with glaring eyes. "You are not supposed to follow the car in front of you! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WAIT UNTIL THE GATE HAS CLOSED AND THEN ENTER ONE CAR AT A TIME!!"
A spirited verbal exchange began when Cindy blurted out, OH MY GOD!---IT'S THAT PUB LADY!" Now my blood was up again. Here she was, once again entering my world in the most unwelcome of circumstances. And what are the odds that we would be accosted not once, but twice by this nightmare of a person---sort of a latter-day Barney Fife. Here she was, blocking the roadway illegally. As she continued her rant, I told Cindy to call the cops. She heard me say that and she then got back in her car and drove off.
I told Cindy that these things seem to only happen to us. Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor....
My mom in the morning
Anyhoo, after much urging by certain family members and friends, I have decided to share a little of what's shakin' in my life these days.
Several years ago I began keeping a diary. Not your typical diary. My diary is an extensive compilation of what I do each day---not just what I do, but also what I am thinking. This exercise takes up quite a bit of time, I suppose, so I gradually found I had less and less time to blog. I guess you could say the diary won out over the blog, although I do miss the blog and my old friends.
Whatever. But sometimes things happen to me that are just so suited for a blog. The following is such a case:
My mom is in her mid-90s and is living the good life in a retirement community in Georgia. From my home in east Tennessee, I go visit her several days a month. I usually squire her around to various places she needs to go---grocery store, doctor, dentist, cleaners, drug store, beauty shop, you name it. We have a good time.
This retirement community is a sprawling development of hundreds of houses and apartments on hundreds of acres. There are hundreds of retired folks living there. There are activities galore. The food is excellent. The huge staff is courteous and efficient. In short, I cannot think of a better place for my mom.
Last month Cindy and I went there for a visit. After a day of taking mom around to her shopping spots, we relaxed in her apartment. It was decided we would go to "The Pub" (an on-site bar) for some liquid refreshments. The pub was crowded. We discovered that the crowd was unusually large because a show was planned. The entertainment was a resident who spins old 78 records and makes comments about the music. Sort of an octogenarian disc jockey. Music selections were from the 1940s. Not exactly my kind of music but if it makes people happy, fine.
So we go in. find an out-of-the-way table for the three of us, order a drink and sit back and begin to converse. Then we decided to have another pop and we also ordered some dinner.
As we were enjoying the conversation, we were approached by this attractive lady who said, "I would appreciate it if you do not talk during the "show" and also please remember to applaud after each record has been played---the disc jockey has worked very hard on this".
As she haughtily moved to the next table to tell them the same thing (she went to all twenty or so tables in the Pub), I realized that we were experiencing a bully at work and I do not do well with bullies. Never have. So I said in a loud voice, "Lady, we will be talking when we want to."
I could see that she did not like being confronted but she kept going around to all the tables, pissing people off. Most folks don't like to be told what they can do and when they can do it. And besides, did you ever try to tell people in a bar to stop talking after they have just consumed several alcoholic bevs?
Well, the woman goes around the pub and on her way back to her table she made a snide comment to me. OK, I thought, let that be the end of it. But no---after the first record was spun, she made a point of clapping in a wildly exaggerated manner, all the while looking at us. She was harassing us. In our space. My blood was now beginning to get up, and I could not help myself when I firmly said, "Lady, mind your own damn business."
With that, the gentleman sitting next to her began to turn around to appraise the developing situation. As he turned I said to him, "You want in on this?" He returned to his former position. Now I grant you that there is something unseemly about two old geezers gettin' it on in a retirement home bar, but the affair was defused, so all's well that ends well, I suppose. But it was an upsetting few moments for my mom, who just wants to get along.
Fast forward to this month when we visited mom yet again. On our way back to her apartment after errands, we approached the automatic entry gate--- a wrought-iron contraption that opens when a car approaches with the proper ID. There was a car in front of us at the gate. As is customary, when the gate opened, I drove behind the car in front of us to enter the grounds.
As I got just inside the gate, the car in front of me suddenly stopped. I thought to myself, "What the heck is going on?" Here I was---stopped and trapped at the gate entry, and there was now also a car behind me waiting to get in. I was stuck between two cars. I threw up my hands in bewilderment.
A lady emerged from the car in front, yelling at me and approaching our car with glaring eyes. "You are not supposed to follow the car in front of you! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO WAIT UNTIL THE GATE HAS CLOSED AND THEN ENTER ONE CAR AT A TIME!!"
A spirited verbal exchange began when Cindy blurted out, OH MY GOD!---IT'S THAT PUB LADY!" Now my blood was up again. Here she was, once again entering my world in the most unwelcome of circumstances. And what are the odds that we would be accosted not once, but twice by this nightmare of a person---sort of a latter-day Barney Fife. Here she was, blocking the roadway illegally. As she continued her rant, I told Cindy to call the cops. She heard me say that and she then got back in her car and drove off.
I told Cindy that these things seem to only happen to us. Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor....
Monday, March 31, 2014
Cure for Cancer?
I was reading the news yesterday, slowly perusing the headlines of a dozen different on-line newspapers and news outlets, when a particular item caught my eye. Normally, unless there is a new story or breaking news, I skim over the headlines because I am already up-to-date on older posts.
But this story immediately grabbed me. The headline referred to a possible cure for cancer. Why, I wondered, had other news agencies not reported this? Or, if they had, why had I not seen it?
Upon reading the article (printed in both the New York Post and on Fox News on-line), it seemed to be too good to be true. So, I did some research and found that indeed, research at Stanford University, going back over a year, has devised a remarkable approach in attacking and eliminating virtually all types of cancers in the body.
Trials in mice have gone very well and human trials are scheduled for this year. Let's all pray this pans out as the silver bullet we need to eradicate this horrible affliction.
To read more on this developing story, Google Stanford University Cancer Cure CD47.
But this story immediately grabbed me. The headline referred to a possible cure for cancer. Why, I wondered, had other news agencies not reported this? Or, if they had, why had I not seen it?
Upon reading the article (printed in both the New York Post and on Fox News on-line), it seemed to be too good to be true. So, I did some research and found that indeed, research at Stanford University, going back over a year, has devised a remarkable approach in attacking and eliminating virtually all types of cancers in the body.
Trials in mice have gone very well and human trials are scheduled for this year. Let's all pray this pans out as the silver bullet we need to eradicate this horrible affliction.
To read more on this developing story, Google Stanford University Cancer Cure CD47.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Love and Terror at the Bird Feeder.......
Cindy Got This Shot of a Red-Tailed Hawk Yesterday
This is a tale of beauty and nature and joy and life and death. This, I think, is very existential. It cannot be escaped. Life must be lived to the fullest because one never knows when one will be face to face with death, whether it comes with a crawl or comes with a pounce.
Our Goldfinches Love the Thistle in our Feeders
Such are my thoughts today after observing up close and personal the antics around our bird feeders on our back deck. Over the past 18 months or so, since we put our first feeder up, we have accumulated quite a following in the avian community. We attract birds of every hue and feather---cardinals, goldfinches, wrens, sparrows, grackles, hummingbirds, doves, cowbirds, catbirds, hairy woodpeckers, red-wing blackbirds, mockingbirds, robins, brown thrashers, etc, etc. We have even occasionally played host to a crow or two. The deck teems with birds as they feed. I get the best seed I can find and they seem to appreciate a gourmet meal several times a day.
We Love our Hummingbirds. They Say My Nectar is the Best
I have often thought that the hundreds of birds we attract live the perfect life. I mean, they are fed the best food by a doting old man who is dependable in his servings and they are highly protected from predators because they all nest in a dense shrub hedge about 30 feet from their food source. Plus, we live in a neighborhood that has few---if any---cats. Oh, I have thought, how I would love to be a bird in this environment!
Our Red-Tailed Hawk. He Looks Like He Means Business
Once, about a month or so ago, I was shocked to see a red-tailed hawk sitting on our railing. Quite a majestic and powerful bird of prey he is, and I noticed that there were no other birds around as he sat there---and for good reason, too, because red-tailed hawks will kill and eat other birds.
Yikes!!!
When the hawk departed, the other birds came out to play again.
I did not see the hawk again until yesterday. He was again sitting on the railing---with no other birds in sight. As he sat, looking for any movement in our yard that would signal a food source, Cindy quietly moved to the window not 8 feet from the hawk. She was able to get probably a hundred pictures of this regal creature.
Mr hawk left the railing when he spotted a bird flying about 100 yards away. I can't describe to you the power and speed he displayed as he took flight. I would never have believed a bird that big would be so fast going from a sitting position. I was unable to see whether the hawk caught his intended prey.
Later in the day, several hours after this event, I was sitting in my den when I heard an enormous commotion out back. I looked out to see scores of birds that were feeding on the deck now airborn with a panicked beating of wings. Just then, a huge flash of feathers and talons streaked by the window as the hawk returned. By some lucky stroke, he came up empty. He sat on the rail alone and dinnerless.
I got to thinking about all this later. Funny, you know, how I thought these birds live the perfect life, with plenty of good food and no worries. But, I was wrong. Their lives can be snuffed out in a flash of feathers and talons at any time. They have worries just like we humans do.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Our Incredibly Terrific and Terrible Medical System
Ten weeks ago or thereabouts I rolled over in bed at 3 AM and felt a sharp pain in my right leg. My lightning-quick mind (Ha) immediately diagnosed the pain as a cramp in my calf. It was briefly painful but the hurt subsided in short order and I went back to sleep.
Next morning I noticed my right calf was swollen about 20% larger than my left calf. But, there was no pain---just a stupid looking swollen leg. Sigh.
Cindy was alarmed when she saw it, but I quietly explained to her that I had had a leg cramp and the swelling was no doubt related to that fact; and besides, the swelling would recede quickly and all would be back to normal in short order. She immediately called her sister, Patti, who is a nurse, and related my plight to her. Patti said I should immediately go to the Emergency Room because the swelling could be the result of a blood clot in my leg, and this could actually be a life-threatening condition. She said if it was a clot, it could "break loose" and travel to my heart or brain. I refused to believe this sage advice because I felt no pain or discomfort in my leg.
Well, then Cindy started Googling and found out that in all probability I did have a clot. That's when the nagging started. I put it off for days, but the swelling in my leg would not recede. Ten days went by before I went to the doctor. I now admit I am a stupid man and I should listen to my wife.
Doc took one look at my leg and ordered an ultrasound on my leg that afternoon. He said if it wasn't a clot (or Deep Vein Thrombosis---DVT), this would be the first time in his career he had seen a leg like mine that was not a clot.
I had the ultrasound and it was confirmed I had a clot behind my knee, causing the leg to swell. I was sent straight to the ER. I spent one hour in the ER where I was shown how to give myself two daily shots of Lovenox in my lower abdomen for a week. I was given a prescription for Coumadin. I had a five minute tete-a-tete with the ER doc, who told me to rest and not do anything strainful because if the clot broke loose it could be a very bad problem.
Three days later I was back to see my doc, who changed the dosage of the Coumadin. One week later I was sent to get an ultrasound of my liver, which turned out normal. Once a week since then I have had to get blood drawn to monitor my blood - Coumadin level.
So far, my leg swelling has gone down by about half. Still no pain. Still taking Coumadin, and the doc says I may have to take it for the rest of my life.
Then I got sent to the Hematologist, who tested my blood for any possible genetic causes for my DVT. All tests came back negative. Bottom line is that they do not know what caused the clot. Many times, a clot can be caused by a long trip in which the patient is unable to move around for long periods---like a plane trip to Europe or somewhere, but I did not have a long trip. Or, sometimes it can be caused by a genetic change. Or, sometimes it can be caused by a cancer in the body which causes the blood to clot easier than normal. Anyway, in my case, they can find no definite cause.
Jump Shift: I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned two weeks ago. While the hygienist had me agape she asked me what that scaly growth was on my lower lip. I told her I had had that for about a year. Usually it was completely unnoticeable but sometimes it got bigger and then receded---nothing to worry about, I assured her. She thought otherwise and the dentist informed me I needed to see the Oral Surgeon. Sigh.
The Oral Surgeon was a nice man. I would have liked to have had a conversation with him about the time we each spent in the army back in 1969, but he was unfortunately involved in cutting my lip open and sewing it back up with 4 stitches. I no longer have the growth on my lip but I do have a frightful-looking scab in its place. Sigh.
The biopsy came back as "pre-cancerous". Doc says it's no longer a problem, that it was probably caused by too much sun exposure over the years.
Back to the dentist. I was told I need a crown---one to replace an old crown that had developed a hole in it. Got that done last Thursday.
BOTTOM LINE:
1. If your leg swells up, get to the ER. Listen to your wife.
2. My leg continues to improve but is still noticeably bigger than my left leg. Getting rid of a clot can be a lengthy process.
3. My medical treatment has been excellent. Docs and nurses have been a delight.
4. Medical treatment is insanely expensive. I mean insanely expensive, as in bearing no relation to reality.
---- ER visit, 1 hour, two prescriptions = $3400
---- 14 doses of injectable Lovenox = $850
---- Two doc visits, approx 10 minutes each = $400
---- Two ultrasounds, approx 15 minutes each = $900
---- Visit to Hematologist with blood testing = Not Yet Determined
---- Visit to Oral Surgeon, approx 30 minutes = $900
---- Dental Crown = $950
Even though my insurance paid a big chunk of these charges, I cannot help but see the out-of-control pricing of medical care. This is a terrible issue for most Americans.
Thank God I will probably be OK through all of this, but how can this insanity continue going forward?
Next morning I noticed my right calf was swollen about 20% larger than my left calf. But, there was no pain---just a stupid looking swollen leg. Sigh.
Cindy was alarmed when she saw it, but I quietly explained to her that I had had a leg cramp and the swelling was no doubt related to that fact; and besides, the swelling would recede quickly and all would be back to normal in short order. She immediately called her sister, Patti, who is a nurse, and related my plight to her. Patti said I should immediately go to the Emergency Room because the swelling could be the result of a blood clot in my leg, and this could actually be a life-threatening condition. She said if it was a clot, it could "break loose" and travel to my heart or brain. I refused to believe this sage advice because I felt no pain or discomfort in my leg.
Well, then Cindy started Googling and found out that in all probability I did have a clot. That's when the nagging started. I put it off for days, but the swelling in my leg would not recede. Ten days went by before I went to the doctor. I now admit I am a stupid man and I should listen to my wife.
Doc took one look at my leg and ordered an ultrasound on my leg that afternoon. He said if it wasn't a clot (or Deep Vein Thrombosis---DVT), this would be the first time in his career he had seen a leg like mine that was not a clot.
I had the ultrasound and it was confirmed I had a clot behind my knee, causing the leg to swell. I was sent straight to the ER. I spent one hour in the ER where I was shown how to give myself two daily shots of Lovenox in my lower abdomen for a week. I was given a prescription for Coumadin. I had a five minute tete-a-tete with the ER doc, who told me to rest and not do anything strainful because if the clot broke loose it could be a very bad problem.
Three days later I was back to see my doc, who changed the dosage of the Coumadin. One week later I was sent to get an ultrasound of my liver, which turned out normal. Once a week since then I have had to get blood drawn to monitor my blood - Coumadin level.
So far, my leg swelling has gone down by about half. Still no pain. Still taking Coumadin, and the doc says I may have to take it for the rest of my life.
Then I got sent to the Hematologist, who tested my blood for any possible genetic causes for my DVT. All tests came back negative. Bottom line is that they do not know what caused the clot. Many times, a clot can be caused by a long trip in which the patient is unable to move around for long periods---like a plane trip to Europe or somewhere, but I did not have a long trip. Or, sometimes it can be caused by a genetic change. Or, sometimes it can be caused by a cancer in the body which causes the blood to clot easier than normal. Anyway, in my case, they can find no definite cause.
Jump Shift: I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned two weeks ago. While the hygienist had me agape she asked me what that scaly growth was on my lower lip. I told her I had had that for about a year. Usually it was completely unnoticeable but sometimes it got bigger and then receded---nothing to worry about, I assured her. She thought otherwise and the dentist informed me I needed to see the Oral Surgeon. Sigh.
The Oral Surgeon was a nice man. I would have liked to have had a conversation with him about the time we each spent in the army back in 1969, but he was unfortunately involved in cutting my lip open and sewing it back up with 4 stitches. I no longer have the growth on my lip but I do have a frightful-looking scab in its place. Sigh.
The biopsy came back as "pre-cancerous". Doc says it's no longer a problem, that it was probably caused by too much sun exposure over the years.
Back to the dentist. I was told I need a crown---one to replace an old crown that had developed a hole in it. Got that done last Thursday.
BOTTOM LINE:
1. If your leg swells up, get to the ER. Listen to your wife.
2. My leg continues to improve but is still noticeably bigger than my left leg. Getting rid of a clot can be a lengthy process.
3. My medical treatment has been excellent. Docs and nurses have been a delight.
4. Medical treatment is insanely expensive. I mean insanely expensive, as in bearing no relation to reality.
---- ER visit, 1 hour, two prescriptions = $3400
---- 14 doses of injectable Lovenox = $850
---- Two doc visits, approx 10 minutes each = $400
---- Two ultrasounds, approx 15 minutes each = $900
---- Visit to Hematologist with blood testing = Not Yet Determined
---- Visit to Oral Surgeon, approx 30 minutes = $900
---- Dental Crown = $950
Even though my insurance paid a big chunk of these charges, I cannot help but see the out-of-control pricing of medical care. This is a terrible issue for most Americans.
Thank God I will probably be OK through all of this, but how can this insanity continue going forward?
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Remembering Life's Disappointments........
Funny, you know, how we humans share so much in common---no matter how different our individual backgrounds may be.
One such universal commonality occurred to me today as Cindy and I were talking about things that happened in our individual pasts. She had been talking with her sister, who revealed to her a couple of stories from her early childhood in which she became deeply hurt. These hurt feeling incidents have stayed with her all her life.
Cindy told me a story from her own childhood that has stayed with her all her life. She was walking down the street one day as a 12 year old child and she passed a couple of teenage boys who stopped to look at her as she passed by them. Now, understand that Cindy was quite thin at the time and was somewhat self-conscious about that fact. One of the boys made the comment "Heck, she might BE something if she'd gain about 500 pounds".
Almost half a century later, the hurt from those words is remembered.
She mentioned a couple of other moments from her childhood in which her feelings were hurt and the memory remains. Usually, the hurt came from something someone said. We may forget important incidents from our past, but it seems we cannot shake those moments of deeply hurt feelings in our youth. And, it is interesting that all of us can dredge up moments like these.
As for me, the first incident I recall (and I can recall a good many if I try) was from my ninth summer. My grandma and grandpa, who I adored, took me with them on a fishing trip to Coldwater Lake in Michigan. Oh, it was to be a glorious week-long adventure, with lots of fishing with grandpa!
Our first day there, I looked forward to being in the boat with gramps, speeding along the water toward the best fishing spots, feeling the tug of fish on hook, experiencing the joy of boating the fish and the pride in posing for pictures with the string of fish at day's end.
But alas, I could not find grampa---I walked down to the lake to see if he was getting the boat ready for our foray into the lake. There, I found him---getting into the boat by himself, with his rod and tackle box. I yelled out to him. He looked at me and then turned and sped off alone across the lake to fish alone that day. I was devastated. And I never forgot the hurt.
As an adult, I look back on some of these incidents and smile. In the case of my grandpa, the poor guy just wanted a little quiet time by himself. He is more than forgiven.
But we don't forget those hurtful moments from our childhood, do we?
One such universal commonality occurred to me today as Cindy and I were talking about things that happened in our individual pasts. She had been talking with her sister, who revealed to her a couple of stories from her early childhood in which she became deeply hurt. These hurt feeling incidents have stayed with her all her life.
Cindy told me a story from her own childhood that has stayed with her all her life. She was walking down the street one day as a 12 year old child and she passed a couple of teenage boys who stopped to look at her as she passed by them. Now, understand that Cindy was quite thin at the time and was somewhat self-conscious about that fact. One of the boys made the comment "Heck, she might BE something if she'd gain about 500 pounds".
Almost half a century later, the hurt from those words is remembered.
She mentioned a couple of other moments from her childhood in which her feelings were hurt and the memory remains. Usually, the hurt came from something someone said. We may forget important incidents from our past, but it seems we cannot shake those moments of deeply hurt feelings in our youth. And, it is interesting that all of us can dredge up moments like these.
As for me, the first incident I recall (and I can recall a good many if I try) was from my ninth summer. My grandma and grandpa, who I adored, took me with them on a fishing trip to Coldwater Lake in Michigan. Oh, it was to be a glorious week-long adventure, with lots of fishing with grandpa!
Our first day there, I looked forward to being in the boat with gramps, speeding along the water toward the best fishing spots, feeling the tug of fish on hook, experiencing the joy of boating the fish and the pride in posing for pictures with the string of fish at day's end.
But alas, I could not find grampa---I walked down to the lake to see if he was getting the boat ready for our foray into the lake. There, I found him---getting into the boat by himself, with his rod and tackle box. I yelled out to him. He looked at me and then turned and sped off alone across the lake to fish alone that day. I was devastated. And I never forgot the hurt.
As an adult, I look back on some of these incidents and smile. In the case of my grandpa, the poor guy just wanted a little quiet time by himself. He is more than forgiven.
But we don't forget those hurtful moments from our childhood, do we?
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Honoring my 90 Year Old Mom on Mother's Day.......
What a ride it has been! Today is your day, mom! Thanks for all the joys, tears, learning, and fun! I love you so much!
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!!! And lots of love!!!
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