Thursday, March 29, 2012
A Madd Walk
"When it hits the papers, you don't want to be at home," she says as I walk by. What?! And I am not in a place where I can stop to listen without it being obvious. What was she talking about. I can conjure up so many stories in my head of what it might be. Is it something good? Like winning the lotto? or is it something bad, like something bad that person did. Or maybe it was a public figure that did something really news worthy, most likely illegal or immoral. I think the person I heard on the phone was an attorney advising her client. Just conjecture. Hmmm, I guess I'll have to keep an eye on the papers.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Madd Facebook
I am finding Facebook boring...I'm not sure why. I used to love it, go on and check all the time. Now I look and it seems to be the same thing over and over again. Or maybe I just have the wrong "friends." It's still nice, though, to see the not too infrequent post about somebody's important moment, about their kids, about their job maybe. Perhaps I don't check it often enough, maybe the truly interesting posts are already past my front page. So what am I looking for (I wonder in my head). Hmmm, I know I am not looking for the shared pre-printed messages; I'm not sure what to call them even. For one thing, they take up too much room. I don't want to have to scroll down to read the most current posts on my FB. But with many people posting so many pictures, especially the word pictures, it just takes up too much room on the page. They are fun and clever to read - well many of them anyway. But I would rather the "friend" just typed it into their "status." But I will still check in and see what people are up to. I mean, I wouldn't want to MISS anything!
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Madd and Sadd
I am sad today. I don't know why really. Maybe it is because I didn't sleep well; but that is not unusual. I rarely sleep well. I wake several times every night, but last night was a little different. Not only did I wake frequently but I had trouble getting back to sleep after waking; thus, I did not feel like I slept at all, though I know I did.
Enough of that. I decided the other day that I CAN win the lottery. Not that I will, but I CAN. Why did I come to this? Well, when writing about my late husband, my children's father, getting brain cancer and dying, I remember thinking at the time it happened, "things like this don't happen to me." It was all so surreal, like a movie, only I was in it. The world spun around the day I heard the diagnosis and realized what it meant. And I mean spun around like you see in movies when someone gets some life-changing news. I remember walking up the ramp in the parking garage and everything was spinning around me, just like in the movies. Anyway, apparently "these things" DO happen to me. So, if something bad and sad and life-changing can happen to me and my family, then something good and happy and life-changing can happen to me and my family. I look forward to it.
Enough of that. I decided the other day that I CAN win the lottery. Not that I will, but I CAN. Why did I come to this? Well, when writing about my late husband, my children's father, getting brain cancer and dying, I remember thinking at the time it happened, "things like this don't happen to me." It was all so surreal, like a movie, only I was in it. The world spun around the day I heard the diagnosis and realized what it meant. And I mean spun around like you see in movies when someone gets some life-changing news. I remember walking up the ramp in the parking garage and everything was spinning around me, just like in the movies. Anyway, apparently "these things" DO happen to me. So, if something bad and sad and life-changing can happen to me and my family, then something good and happy and life-changing can happen to me and my family. I look forward to it.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Another Madd Day
Day two and another blog. This won't happen much. Not sure if I will even continue with this. I have nothing to say. Church this morning - it's Sunday - and I had so many thoughts. Not necessarily about what the pastor was saying, but many thoughts. Now I can't remember any of them. I thought, at the time, that they were interesting - not now. But I never think what I have to say is interesting.
We (Paul and I and Danny for part of it) watched The Decendants last night. It did bring back a lot of feelings and memories of my late husband, Ron, and when he was sick from a cancerous brain tumor and died. Nine months of hell is what I like to call it. The day our world turned upside down was February 14, 2003; that was the day the doctor told me the diagnosis, and I could see in his face what it meant. Nine months later, my husband and life partner, the man who was a witness to my life, the father of my children, was dead. Turned our lives upside down and backwards and every which way that I had not even thought to expect. I guess I will talk about it here. It has affected the rest of my life and the way I look at things. I am remarried now, and life is not what it would have been, but it is good again. It was interesting to watch the movie and know what the character might have been feeling. To have friends cry and be upset, and to be angry that they don't seem to know that this changes my life MUCH more than it changes theirs. To have relatives act as though this was so devastating to them, and thinking, "How much more devastating to me and our children this is, how selfish of you to think YOU are devasted!!" I know, it was insensitive of me not to realize that they were hurting too. Or maybe I did realize it, but I felt I was hurting so much more. Not just for me but for my children - they were losing a father. I prayed that God's will would be done and that the best for my family would be realized and would come to pass. So when Ron died, I had to know that it was the best for us. How could that be?
He had a temper. What would it have been like for him to be the disiplinarian raising teenagers? He shot a pellet gun at Jason, his older son from a previous marriage, because he stole some money from us, from a jar or something. Jason was 12 or 13 at the time...maybe 14. The pellet went between Jason's legs and Ron said he knew it would not hit him. I often wondered. Then there was the time that he tossed a table knife in my direction when I was holding and trying to quiet Chris as a baby. Ron was watching hockey and the noise of the crying was too much for him. The knife lodged in the door. He says he knew what he was doing and knew it would not hit us; but I often wondered. I would not leave the kids alone with him when they were really young. Not until they could understand directions and do as they were told. I feared that he might lose his temper; I didn't want to find out if he would or not. I wanted them to grow up with their father. Well, I guess they did until 10, 13, and 16 at least.
He never hit me or abused me or the kids. I think I was just afraid that he would since he had such a temper. He did throw things though, broke things. He was jealous and somewhat controlling - I let him control me. We all make choices. I let him control what I did. I had no friends really; I couldn't spend time with them. He would get jealous and angry and yell and say I was cheating on him, but I never did. Till death did we part. He loved me, he loved his family, and he provided for us well. He also had PTSD - Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. He was in Vietnam. I wish I had known the criteria for PTSD way back when; I think I would have insisted he go to counseling and get help. So many symptoms - he would not talk about Vietnam; he avoided crowds, didn't really like to go to gatherings, had trouble sleeping, perimeter checks, drinking, changing jobs every year, couldn't handle loud noises such as popping balloons, and more...
But that is done. I have guilt. I have guilt for not seeing his disorder and helping him; I have guilt for not being there more for my children when their father died; I have guilt for not being stronger. I don't want to have guilt anymore. I want to let go of it. I want to know my kids will be okay and that they forgive me for anything I did or will do to make their life difficult.
We (Paul and I and Danny for part of it) watched The Decendants last night. It did bring back a lot of feelings and memories of my late husband, Ron, and when he was sick from a cancerous brain tumor and died. Nine months of hell is what I like to call it. The day our world turned upside down was February 14, 2003; that was the day the doctor told me the diagnosis, and I could see in his face what it meant. Nine months later, my husband and life partner, the man who was a witness to my life, the father of my children, was dead. Turned our lives upside down and backwards and every which way that I had not even thought to expect. I guess I will talk about it here. It has affected the rest of my life and the way I look at things. I am remarried now, and life is not what it would have been, but it is good again. It was interesting to watch the movie and know what the character might have been feeling. To have friends cry and be upset, and to be angry that they don't seem to know that this changes my life MUCH more than it changes theirs. To have relatives act as though this was so devastating to them, and thinking, "How much more devastating to me and our children this is, how selfish of you to think YOU are devasted!!" I know, it was insensitive of me not to realize that they were hurting too. Or maybe I did realize it, but I felt I was hurting so much more. Not just for me but for my children - they were losing a father. I prayed that God's will would be done and that the best for my family would be realized and would come to pass. So when Ron died, I had to know that it was the best for us. How could that be?
He had a temper. What would it have been like for him to be the disiplinarian raising teenagers? He shot a pellet gun at Jason, his older son from a previous marriage, because he stole some money from us, from a jar or something. Jason was 12 or 13 at the time...maybe 14. The pellet went between Jason's legs and Ron said he knew it would not hit him. I often wondered. Then there was the time that he tossed a table knife in my direction when I was holding and trying to quiet Chris as a baby. Ron was watching hockey and the noise of the crying was too much for him. The knife lodged in the door. He says he knew what he was doing and knew it would not hit us; but I often wondered. I would not leave the kids alone with him when they were really young. Not until they could understand directions and do as they were told. I feared that he might lose his temper; I didn't want to find out if he would or not. I wanted them to grow up with their father. Well, I guess they did until 10, 13, and 16 at least.
He never hit me or abused me or the kids. I think I was just afraid that he would since he had such a temper. He did throw things though, broke things. He was jealous and somewhat controlling - I let him control me. We all make choices. I let him control what I did. I had no friends really; I couldn't spend time with them. He would get jealous and angry and yell and say I was cheating on him, but I never did. Till death did we part. He loved me, he loved his family, and he provided for us well. He also had PTSD - Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. He was in Vietnam. I wish I had known the criteria for PTSD way back when; I think I would have insisted he go to counseling and get help. So many symptoms - he would not talk about Vietnam; he avoided crowds, didn't really like to go to gatherings, had trouble sleeping, perimeter checks, drinking, changing jobs every year, couldn't handle loud noises such as popping balloons, and more...
But that is done. I have guilt. I have guilt for not seeing his disorder and helping him; I have guilt for not being there more for my children when their father died; I have guilt for not being stronger. I don't want to have guilt anymore. I want to let go of it. I want to know my kids will be okay and that they forgive me for anything I did or will do to make their life difficult.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
I have not done this before... How many people start their first blog this way? So boring. Oh well, that kind of sums me up though. At least how I usually feel about myself - so boring. I talk with other people and they are intersting, they have interesting lives. Not me.
I read my email in the morning after getting ready for work, or on Saturdays, after making coffee for me, tea for my husband Paul - DH. I used to wonder what that meant. The first time I saw it, I went "HUH?" What on earth does DH mean? Dear Husband. Oh yeah. And he is. Paul is wonderful. He is thoughtful and kind and interesting. He has been many places in his life - traveled more than I have but less than I would like to. He's good to me. I want the best for him. This past year, he has had a crummy job. But he makes the best of it. He's good like that. Today, he is looking into adding a part-time job. Taking pictures, putting them on the internet for a guy. Mostly cars and car parts - right up his alley. I am hoping he likes it. Not for the money as much as for something he enjoys. I am thinking it could be fun for him as these are the types of things he likes to do. Take pictures, research cars and parts, talking with people. He's very good at it and has an amazing memory for details.
I check out Facebook to see what my "friends" are doing. Everyone is having fun all the time. At least this is how it looks. Kind of depressing because I don't. Have fun all the time, that is. But I don't post all that we do either. Islands on Thursdays for burgers. Just dinner really, but we get out and mingle, talk with others at the bar - yes, we sit at the bar for dinner. More fun, better service. We like to meet new people, talk about stuff. The bartender is nice. We guess her name to be Tina or Tiera, but it's Carrie. Friday, nothing planned. But we both want to get out, or know that we need to get out. I tell Paul I don't care if we stay home, but I know that if we stay home and continue to not go out and continue to stay home, I will get really depressed. So I tell him this and we decide to go do something. I've been wanting to go to Bootleggers Brewery for their Friday tasting for ages - they've only been open four years and I think I've been receiving their emails since they started. Can't recall how I got on their list though; I know I requested to be, that's all I remember about it. So we go there. Paul sees an old coworker from ADP and we meet new friends. Beer is good, fun to try new and different, and conversation flows. That is over by 9:00, so we go to Versai Wine Bar to listen to Breanna Fondacaro and Dave Koval - The Copy Cats. Paul gets into a conversation with a 24-year-old, first about music and then about cars. The 'kid' (Daniel - nice name) purchased a '69 Mustang seven months ago and is getting advice on how to fix things. Paul's knowledge and memory for it all is amazing to me. I don't have that kind of knowledge about anything really. I know things though.
I read about things that interest me and I learn things in my jobs. I know about nutrition and fitness, but don't feel confident because I don't have the formal education to back it up - just reading a lot. I know a little about psychology - I work with/for psychologists. I know a little about maintenance of buildings - I work with a maintenance crew. I often feel my knowledge is useless as it is not complete. My daughter doesn't think it is useless though - she calls and asks for my advice. I like that. It makes me feel useful.
I read my email in the morning after getting ready for work, or on Saturdays, after making coffee for me, tea for my husband Paul - DH. I used to wonder what that meant. The first time I saw it, I went "HUH?" What on earth does DH mean? Dear Husband. Oh yeah. And he is. Paul is wonderful. He is thoughtful and kind and interesting. He has been many places in his life - traveled more than I have but less than I would like to. He's good to me. I want the best for him. This past year, he has had a crummy job. But he makes the best of it. He's good like that. Today, he is looking into adding a part-time job. Taking pictures, putting them on the internet for a guy. Mostly cars and car parts - right up his alley. I am hoping he likes it. Not for the money as much as for something he enjoys. I am thinking it could be fun for him as these are the types of things he likes to do. Take pictures, research cars and parts, talking with people. He's very good at it and has an amazing memory for details.
I check out Facebook to see what my "friends" are doing. Everyone is having fun all the time. At least this is how it looks. Kind of depressing because I don't. Have fun all the time, that is. But I don't post all that we do either. Islands on Thursdays for burgers. Just dinner really, but we get out and mingle, talk with others at the bar - yes, we sit at the bar for dinner. More fun, better service. We like to meet new people, talk about stuff. The bartender is nice. We guess her name to be Tina or Tiera, but it's Carrie. Friday, nothing planned. But we both want to get out, or know that we need to get out. I tell Paul I don't care if we stay home, but I know that if we stay home and continue to not go out and continue to stay home, I will get really depressed. So I tell him this and we decide to go do something. I've been wanting to go to Bootleggers Brewery for their Friday tasting for ages - they've only been open four years and I think I've been receiving their emails since they started. Can't recall how I got on their list though; I know I requested to be, that's all I remember about it. So we go there. Paul sees an old coworker from ADP and we meet new friends. Beer is good, fun to try new and different, and conversation flows. That is over by 9:00, so we go to Versai Wine Bar to listen to Breanna Fondacaro and Dave Koval - The Copy Cats. Paul gets into a conversation with a 24-year-old, first about music and then about cars. The 'kid' (Daniel - nice name) purchased a '69 Mustang seven months ago and is getting advice on how to fix things. Paul's knowledge and memory for it all is amazing to me. I don't have that kind of knowledge about anything really. I know things though.
I read about things that interest me and I learn things in my jobs. I know about nutrition and fitness, but don't feel confident because I don't have the formal education to back it up - just reading a lot. I know a little about psychology - I work with/for psychologists. I know a little about maintenance of buildings - I work with a maintenance crew. I often feel my knowledge is useless as it is not complete. My daughter doesn't think it is useless though - she calls and asks for my advice. I like that. It makes me feel useful.
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