Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad-both married one time, only to each other. I'm not going to debate the pluses and minuses of that-just celebrate the fact that it is. This was last year right before Mom's first ever train ride.

I will ponder for a moment how the world has changed. By the time their parent's died they (their parents) had trouble recognizing what the world had become, and now the same is becoming true for them, as it will be for me I'm sure. In times past, change was slower, and a person could live a lifetime learning about the world around them with the certainty that it wouldn't suddenly be completely different.

At 47, my mind still boggles at two people who came together as adults and who have been a couple since before I was born. Because it is not something I will experience in this lifetime, it is very hard for me to wrap my head around. I usually run out of something to say around Sunday morning of a long weekend. 56 years-I can't imagine it-it's more than I have experienced-it's beyond me.

Like it or not, our parent's shape us throughout our lives, either with what they did or they didn't do, whether we emulate them or rebel against them. What a powerful force that is on someone's life, yet I bet they had no idea when they were busy creating my brother and I.

Not that anyone does.

Odd Reaction

I honestly thought Uncle John was dead when we walked in-he had no expression (Parkinson's) and his eyes were fixed and unfocused. My first thought was "how am I going to explain this to Mom without upsetting her?" and then he blinked.

I told Mom later and she laughed and said "did you think I wouldn't notice if my brother were dead?" but I think she understood the impulse to protect.

Another bizarre event occurred while we were there. Mom was lecturing John on eating, and she began poking him in his ribs..."look, look at those ribs" but it was like she was talking to a baby...."they stick out further than my boobies"...."MOM" I wailed, to snap her out of it....and she said "oh, what, John knows about boobies" and I just said "I can't sit here and talk about your boobies with my Uncle". Unspoken, was the thought that someone who spent 20 years alone might not want his ribs poked, or maybe he did.

Now it's all kind of funny now, but at the time my brain just overloaded for a moment. It's kind of like shock therapy though, because I've felt better since, of course, it may have something to do with the bowl of ice cream I ate.

Yes, lap band and all, I still eat ice cream. But honestly, I don't justify it when I do-it's a treat, it's comfort food, I'm very intentional about it.

I had the ice cream after I got the call that Uncle John had fallen again. I worked out with the nurse a plan to at least make a wheelchair available even if he won't use it. Then I went down, told Mom about the fall and my odd reaction and we had a lovely discussion of dead bodies in the dining room in the olden days and a good natured row about my not wanting to be viewed when I'm gone.

We joke about it, sometimes crudely, but we all agree that now is the time to hold hands and poke ribs, not later.

Is Personal Growth Tiring?

Yesterday was kind of a breakthrough day (in a good way) for me, and today I just have zero energy and ambition. I did work out some, but not enough to be this tired.

So, I do see some wisdom in Mom's stickler to routine routine. She gets things done, tired or not. But my way gets things resolved, after 40 years or so of ruminating. Thank goodness the cat is yowling in the garage to be let in, or I might just lie on this couch forever.

Or, I might, as I just did, go let her in and then return to my musings.

So, why is personal growth draining? I can see why stress would be, but growth is a good thing. Of course, sex is a good thing, and done properly, it can be quite tiring as well.

I believe I will plant some onions today. I bought some, gave some to Mom, and will plant some of my own. I don't eat that many onions, but dang it, I wanted to grow some of my own to pull and give to people. It's like Shirley Mclaine's great line in Steel Magnolias, "I don't know WHY I do it, I'm an old southern lady, we grow things in the dirt. It's what we do."

I actually have quite a lot planned. I'm going to grow yellow squash, zuchini, eggplant and cucumbers since I now have a sunny backyard. Mom is in charge of the tomatos. She's going to experiment -plant again in her "cart garden" that she moves around to get sun, and my "high dollar" upside down tomato garden that I ordered "from the computer". We are both curious to see which will work better, and looking forward to the harvest.

But, first must come the spring, and the growth.

Sun Arise, Oh Oh Oh, Sunrise....

That (Sunrise) was probably Alice Cooper's only upbeat song, at least the only one I can remember.

I came home, watched Dexter, drank some Melatonin and crashed. I tried really hard not to think about anything, and for the most part I succeeded. There is much to process, much to clean up and some revisions to make. The snakes departure has given me another room to work with, so I will spend a bit more time (hah) rethinking things. I'll probably leave the original hardwoods down and at long last will have my studio.

(The theory behind not replacing the floors in that room was that I could do as I pleased, and if I sell the house I'll put down laminate to match the rest of the house at that time....clever girl.)

Yesterday I pulled my calendar out and asked Mom to pick a day that she wanted to go help clean out John's old place. "Any day but today-think about YOUR schedule"....and she picked Wednesday. Brilliant, because that buys me two days of whatever I want to do....except of course for Water Aerobics today....ok, I don't get whole days right now, but it's a start and a good one.

Back when John could remember things like days, we used the calendar to map out plans-but they only work if you can remember them. When he began to forget, so did I.

I also have new words in my arsenal..."Don't worry about it"...this is apparently old people's code for "It's taken care of" and it will help silence them.

Back in my own nest I can lick my wounds, mourn the dead, and process what I've learned for a better future for all of us. Tenacious. That's me.

Happy Birthday Ma

Today is my Mom's birthday-Saturday was mine. Family legend is she got to come home from the hospital on her birthday, so I was her present. She'd probably have taken me back if she'd known what lay ahead.

Presents are hard-we don't "do" presents....but if I didn't show up with a "something" I think she'd be sad. So, in the intricate workings of my mother and I, it has to be something she wants that it just looks like I had. Saying to hell with it and just buying a nice present causes her much consternation. So, if I want to get her present for birthday/Christmas, I buy something for her not at those times of the year, and I say "I just wanted to do it".

I try to be respectful of that. I have my own holiday issues-single parenting will do that for you.

Maybe love is nothing more than respecting each other's neurosis.

The Fall Tour

I spent 12 hours solid (starting at 6 am) in the car with both my parents and a small dog and no one died or even got their feelings hurt. Of course, all of us, including the dog, were on good behavior, as we always are on trips.

We drove over to Arkansas and I realized that Daddy was probably getting to see the mountainside for the first time-he was always the driver. He kept saying "wow, oh wow". Mom got to pick the lunch spot and shortly thereafter she and Prissy were snoring in the backseat. PRISSY got to prance around two states in a new coat, AND a Doggy Boutique in Poteau Oklahoma, where I purchased a pink doggy t-shirt that read "I do Bad Things".

Prissy was wearing her shirt when we stopped at a truck stop for me to pee. Daddy offered to take Priss for a walk while Mom and I tended to our business. I cracked up when I looked outside to see my little old father walking a very prancing Prissy in her pink T-shirt. (Priss weighs about 3 pounds). I congratulated Daddy, saying a man had to be very secure in his sexual identity to do such a thing at a truck stop.

It was a long day and I didn't overly complicate things by thinking too hard, I just drove and watched the road and stared at the leaves and said "uh huh" when necessary. I love road trips.

Tomorrow I have to take Uncle John to the neurologist and things aren't looking all that bright, but tonight I'm just going to black it all out and sleep well. Tomorrow can take care of itself tomorrow.

Roses

I took my mom the last roses (most likely) of the season. It happened like this. I set out to get the paper and drink a protein/spirulena drink on the porch, which I did. Then I started watering the flowers and the roses needed pruning.

Some of the roses where nice and I decided to save them for Mom. Now I had told them yesterday I wouldn't be down in the morning because I get too distracted visiting and never get back to work. But the roses had to go down.

We had a quick cup of coffee and as I was leaving I said "I really like being able to pick roses and bring to you. It makes me happy," and then we hugged.

Our lives are full of turmoil and trying to figure out our place, but sometimes we just have to let the love rise over us. If I had designed a t-shirt this morning I probably wouldn't even remember it, but I'll always remember being able to take some roses to my mother on a fine fall day.

Wipe Out

I know in this time of war and turbulence, this isn't a big deal, but it is a big deal to me and unless I acknowledge that, I can't move on.

Mom, Jean and I went to water aerobics last night. The water was warm, Mom was more relaxed and I moved away from her to let her interact with people on her own. So, the next thing I notice as I'm marching in place is my mother voice carrying across the entire pool (granted, it's a small pool) explaining about my lap band surgery, how much weight I've lost to date, when I'm going to weigh again, and yes, it was a method of "last resort". Because I'm very comfortable in the water, I left the rail to the ones who weren't, so I'm in the middle of the pool while this is going on, waving my arms and looking green.

It was a horrible, horrible experience. I might as well have been completely nekkid, oh wait, when we change I will be. I'm sure Mom will be happy to point out my scars.

And, people, being people, are going to be watching me now to see how I do. Which is what I wanted to avoid.

So, what does one DO? I'm not going to storm out of the class, Mom adores the class and so do I. If I speak to her about it, she's just going to shut down and not make friends. And she needs little old lady friends.

I guess the thing I learned so far was that a person can survive having all their "masks" stripped away. But it isn't a terribly safe feeling. No, it doesn't feel safe at all.

Yesterday started out so well, and ended so damn badly, and it's carried over to today and I'm not sure how to shake it. There is no right wrong to the situation, it's just Mom likes to talk and I am a very private person. Even now it's hard to think about it and stay with it to try and uncover what the "big deal" is.

Ironically, I thought I'd be able to lose weight without the fuss that accompanied the Medifast debacle-with nosey coworkers asking all kinds of nosey questions. Now they don't have to ask, neighbors, relatives and class mates get the latest news broadcast.

Ah, so is it becaue it's MY news? Or am I refusing to own my own weight loss? If we don't own the loss, we might not have to own the fat, right? I'm all about facing things, and this is just another thing to face. I have to own what I've done and what I'm doing. In a bathing suit, twice a week. I'll need some water shoes.

The Horned Lizard Massacre

Stupid UPS man stepped on one of my horned lizards. Poor little thing, he was one of my favorites too. He was just out basking on the sidewalk, not hurting anyone and splat, the modern world comes and that's the end of the little platy rhino.

At least he died quick, on swift stomp and that was it. I went down to get some sympathy from mom who said "He probably thought it was a bug and he was doing you a favor...AND if you cared about them you wouldn't have let them loose in the front yard." Great. So now the fault is mine. Brilliant Ma.

I thought they'd be safer in the front yard than in the back, less predation, more places to hide. I did the best I could, and it just wasn't enough to help this one. I suppose that's a lesson too, sometimes all you can do just isn't enough.

But, I still have the dream of seeing wild horned lizards caper in my rose garden one day.

I'm tired today, I'm having Band Rage (can't eat so I'm stressed without that outlet) and the chainsaws and the lizards and the general lack of any sign from the Universe that I'm doing the right thing is getting to me.

What if my life is like that lizards? What if all I can do just isn't enough?

Parable of Starbucks

I read that a cappucino has 100 less calories than a latte. To treat myself I got up, threw on a sundress and drove myself to starbucks-determined to have a nice morning. At the speaker, I got my first hint that all was not well.

"Have you ever had a capuccino here?" to which I replied "No". I don't talk a lot before I've had my coffee. "Well, it's got less milk than a latte" to which I replied "that's ok". (See, I'm using my new tool).

When I got to the window the barrista came over and said "I made you a latte, I didn't think you'd be happy." to which I just blinked. "I'm sorry," she said, "I'll make you cappucino and you can have this latte too."

I ended up just taking the latte-the line was long and it had all the correct components.

My first thought was "do I just have a sign on my face that says "tell me what to do?" and then I realized there was a message here, somewhere, in the latte.

"What do you want me to learn?" I asked. Is the lesson just let things go if they don't matter? Was it supposed to be to stand up for myself? WHAT WHAT WHAT?

Pressing on, I stopped in at Mom and Dad's in a pre emptive strike. We'd coffee, then I'd announce I had work to do. That is a discreet way of setting boundaries.

"You're up early" said Daddy. I told them, in a very matter of fact tone, about my strange starbuck's experience.

"She should be fired! You should call the manager! I've never heard of such a thing." screeched Mom from the kitchen.

"Well, she was only looking out for my best interest or so she thought. And the line was long. She meant well." I replied.

"It's your business what you want to drink. Even if the latte is the better deal, it's up to YOU to order what you want and her to make it. People can't tell you how to spend your own money!!!!" the squawking continued.

Daddy and I did a really good job of snickering out of earshot.

Parables are supposed to have a point, and I'm unsure of what this one is. I already know that what bothers us most in others is what we don't like about ourselves. Am I bossy? Does Mom drive me nuts because I'm just like she is?

Or was the lesson that it wasn't about ME at all-the lady of the window just wanted to do the right thing, and sometimes she (Mom) doesn't have all the facts,and I shouldn't take it so personally?

I made my way to the car. Mom hollered from the front porch "don't go too far in that dress, you can see your body right through it." and I kept on walking across the lawn and said "I'm just going to the car and I'm wearing underwear."

"WHAT if you'd run out of gas or had a wreck and had to get out of the CAR?" she persisted. "I can SEE your underwear."

"It's ok, I'm wearing nice underwear." I said as I took refuge in the Escape.

I think the lesson of the morning is just not to get all worked up over things that don't matter, latte's or high decibal conversations about your underwear.

Ok OK OK OK

The OK thing is working pretty good, but not perfectly. I was unloading the truck (Home Depot and some trash picking) and Mom came down to feed the dogs their treat. I decided that I was not going to hide my flowers (which the neighbor was already hollering about anyway).

We went through the inventory of what I was unloading, where I got it, why I wanted it and how much I paid for it, and if it was free, what I intended to do with it. The grecian lady was inspected and approved, although her placement was guestioned-I wanted her looking back over the roses, mom thought she should be looking out at the street. "That's where I'd put it" she said and I said "OK" while thinking "No, you wouldn't have paid 25 dollars for the damn thing, but if you want one go spend your own 25 and let her face any frickin way you want." Is this maturity-not saying everything I think of?

She wanted to help me unload the entire truck because we'd need it on Sunday when we go to take Uncle John to visit Lee. But, me being the stubborn person that I am only wanted to unload those things that I was interested in working with at the moment.

I decided it was better to finish later so I said "I have to go in now" and added "work to do."...but that started a new line of questioning. What are you working on? What are you doing tonight? And I kind of said "uh, T-shirts, they'll be out on Sunday, gotta go"...and then IT happened.

She realized that I was going to leave the bromiliads out on the sidewalk. "You can't leave those there-someone will take them."

Apparently, you can't leave anything in this neighborhood past your front porch or someone (whoever that is) will steal you blind. They'll even take your bromilieads, by golly.

She moved to help me move them to the porch, but that is where I put the organic potting soil. I'm not really that hard core, but the new flowerpots and bromiieads are actually for the snakies to play in, and I needed organic soil for them. Oh shit.

"Moooooooooom, I'll do it later.................."...ok, so I didn't say OK. But it stopped her from rounding the corner where the organic potting mix was. Whew. Saved. Ok.

Scenes from My Life

Me at Mom and Dads. I've taken the two Spotties and Ms. Bitty down for a visit. I'm feeling pretty virtuous, I've taken Uncle John to the doctor out to lunch, I met with the lumberjack and I am spending time with my folks before going to pick the cat up at the vet.

Me: John had a nice Dr. visit and then we went out to eat.

Mom: Where'd you go?

Me: We went to eat Mexican food, John really chowed down.

Mom: He always chows down.

Me: I didn't know he liked Mexican food though-I'm excited because you and Daddy won't eat it with me.

Mom: That's not true. I would, you never ask.

Me (thinking I had it covered): Great! Next time we go you are invited, we'll have a blast.

Mom: Ok, where do you go?

Me (completely, blindly walking in to it): On the Border

Mom: No, I don't go to high dollar chains like that. There is a local business around the corner Jean Stewart goes to.

Me: OK.

Now, the Ok is a good idea and I think I'm going to use it as often as possible from now on. Because there is clearly no way out-I can't make Mom go eat at a high dollar chain for God's sake, and I don't really feel that I'll save a lot of money or time by driving across town, picking up John bringing and him back here for a sumptious meal at a locally owned business and then driving him BACK across town. Yet, if I try to play the gas card I'll open myself up for criticism of some sort, I'm not sure what.

In fact, for the remainder of the week, when I'm blindsided like that I am going to "Just say OK".

New Truck

Daddy got a shiny new Ford Ranger and Mom was annoyed (surprise). I am preoccupied with an upset tummy, a sick cat and dog with an impacted anal gland, a looming earwax appointment with Uncle John and an existential crisis. So I was less than tactful. She said something and I said "at his age you ought to be glad he feels like going out and looking at trucks".

My friend Sue's daughter, Maya will say I HATE you /I LOVE you.....and I know just how she feels. Cause a few hours later Ma called to tell me Dr. Oz was on Oprah and she knows I don't watch daytime TV but maybe I would want to know????? Well, of course I would.

So I will record "The Truth About Food" tonight since "their satellite doesn't get Discovery.

The thing that scares me is that I have no idea what Mom wants or needs that she isn't getting, and apparently neither does she. And, while I'm not as cranky I do see some of that same frustration in ME. And it scares me.

Now, this is not neccessarily an age thing-Mom has always been high strung and cranky but the older you (and she and I) get, the less we are able to deal with the things that are ailing us emotionally. So, I'd like to get good and emotionally healthy while I still can. It shouldn't take more than one or two hundred years at the most.

The Biggest Boogie Man of All

The longest and most painful battle between my parents and I is the battle of the horse. That we are still fighting that battle at this point in our lives is complete psycho nuttery. The way I've avoided the fight is just to not get the horse, and I am no longer willing to do that.

So, in typical Deb fashion, I am looking for a horse trailer. Because, if I can't drive the trailer, I wouldn't be able to go anywhere with the horse, so what good would it do me. I am pretty sure I'll be able to drive the trailer, but I want to KNOW before I get attached to an animal.

I was telling my cousins and Daddy about it when Mom walked up. Dad filled her in and Mom rared back to start in and I raised one hand up and said quietly "Mom, don't start." So she said fine and went home and that awful feeling hit me in the stomach.

Now, I really don't mind having one final conversation, but I am not going to be yelled at in my own front yard in front of the neighbors and relatives. I've never put that boundary up before, so it was a real shocker to us both. However, if I move back to be near my family, help them out and have them help me, I will not do it at the expense of what little self esteem I've garnered over the years.

Mom and Dad are not abusive people-they are loving and loyal and kind. Mom was bringing down homemade jelly to send to my aunt. She'd already given me two jars. She doesn't have to embrace all my dreams, but the least she can do is just not talk about it and certainly not yell about it. Neither one of them have dementia, they just have poor manners sometimes. And truly, telling me how much I don't need a horse and how stupid the idea is in the first place has become a 46 year old habit.

Why? And the answer I can come up with is "it doesn't matter why?" Maybe they couldn't afford a horse, maybe they thought I'd get hurt. (Well for that matter, I did break my arm once.) But it doesn't matter why, because I am an adult and if I want a horse I can have one.

They have come to accept the pythons-they will just have to accept a horse.

After everyone left, I showed Daddy where I was going to plant some roses and he started in on a box that I have had on the front porch for a month. You can't see it from the street. I know he was just annoyed at how messy the house was. Now, the back story is, I bought the boxes for cages that I later decided not to build. But the boxes fit on my little buidling shelves, so I just kept them for storage. But what I said was, calmly and politely "I'll move them when I get to it."

Now, I'm sitting here teary eyed because I KNOW that this is more than about a horse or some plastic boxes. It's about my right to be who I am. And having cut my teeth on this in corporate America, I seem to have been led home to go back and graduate with the root of it all.

In corporate America, you can just fight back. Families are tougher, because they have to have the right to be who they are too. I'm fighting the urge to go bawling down the street and say "I'm sorry I embarrassed you", but the exchange was private between Mom and I; I actually saved her from embarrassing behavior. So, I don't think I'll go apologize.

I certainly will not apologize for wanting something they don't want FOR me, for whatever the reason. Owning a horse isn't close to robbing banks, and I ran the figures and it doesn't come close to the money I spend (was going to say throw away) on vacations, snakes, mountainbikes and serro scotty trailers. Heh, my brother asked me once why I rationalize everything I ever get-well guess what?

So, home now two short months and I am facing down the biggest baddest boogie man of my past. Let me tell you-it's scarey as hell.

Crap-I got so wrapped up I forgot to try to give th chicken to my cousin....

Where did this wall come from?

Emotionally, I'm at a wall. My house is, well, a mess. It didn't turn in to the Better Homes and Garden place I thought it would-although the Garden does look nice. I still don't know what I'm going to do to earn a living. Mom has been diagnosed with rhuematoid arthritis and that scares me.

So, what's a girl to do? Well, I'm turning the sunroom into a gym-Mom is addicted to walking and that isn't going to be a good thing any more. So I'm getting her a stationary bicycle so she doesn't have to depend on the trike and me going to the park every day. I'm thinking of putting in weights for me. We may or may not work out together-we haven't worked that part out.

And, I'm going to Florida next week to see Sue and Jay. No sense in sitting here crying mea culpa-I'm well enough to travel, I have a free ticket, and maybe things will shake loose in my head. Sometimes when the going gets tough you just have to make your way to a beach. The ocean really does help me clear my head.

On the lap band front I ate some pulverized chicken-heaven I tell you, sheer heaven. Pulverized chicken smashed with pears from my backyard-yes, I have weird taste, but I'm telling you, it was greatness.

Mom is cooking fish today and then we are going to see Uncle John. Oh yeah I remember now, this is what I came to Oklahoma to do=spend more time with family. And that part I really enjoy. It's a shame society doesn't put as much value on that as it does on the career thing.

And, by golly, I have a pretty pot of hibiscus in front of my house and some new fencing for the front flower bed. Loading the fencing into the truck laid me up a bit, but I'm going to try unloading it and planting the fence tonight. You know what, I AM making progress. I forget to reward progress, only results. I gotta work on that.

I'm bacccccck

Skipped Vegas-I was at the airport earlier and took a flight back through Phoenix. In Pheonix I met Carmelita-82 years old and flying to OKC for a family reunion. Carmelita was blind, so I helped her into the bathroom. It made me feel really good to help someone-even mostly wheelchair bound and with a belly full of holes, I could do some good.

I volunteered to sit with two unsupervised minors-this was not a self less act-they are usually well behaved. We visited for awhile, then I dozed while the kids (strangers to each other) shared their toys and their candy and just generally had a good time. I tried out my dog theories-on the kids-be quiet, not excited and it seemed to work-the kids settled in really quickly.

Mom and Dad picked me up and Mom's first question was "so, what have you eaten?" She really wants to know what I can/should have so that she can have that available. I appreciate this, and the fact that she makes the best iced tea on the planet. I'll be walking down this afternoon for some iced tea and visit.

I slept really well last night-it's much easier to sleep with a cat on your pillow than without.