I was thinking... (I know: Shocking, right?) =-)

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I was thinking last night while i was ironing...

While i was at my Mom's last week, she kept giving me things that are/were hers (the way my Grandmom [her Mom] did before she became bedridden).  Well, Mama gave me a magazine that used to by my Grandmom's from 1964.
Nineteen Sixty-four!  (I *know*!)
Anyway!

It was a December issue of a "House and Garden" magazine, and there was an article in it for Holiday Cocktails.
*That* is what got me thinking!  ("Finally!" you say.)

You know, "we" used to have Cocktails in the evenings.  (Back in the '50s, you know.)
Almost EVERY event featured Cocktails.
Wedding receptions, dinner parties, funerals.  When "the man of the house" arrived home from a grueling day at the office, all the women's magizines suggested the wife put on a nice dress, some heels and pearls, and have a cool Cocktail waiting and ready for him as soon as he stepped in the front door.
*Everything* involved Cocktails.

Last night while i was ironing, it occurred to me *why* "we" used to have Cocktails so frequently.


Everybody was Self-Medicating.

No, really!  Think about it!
We didn't have all these anti-depressants that are available now.

...I miss Cocktail hour...

=-)

{random title here}

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A lot's been going on around here...

I went to my Mom's in Beaufort, SC last Monday (the 19th), and returned home on the 23rd.  She's doing well, for the most part.  As i've reported before, she has Alzheimers, and she's on that slow downward spiral... 
She couldn't remember when my birthday is.

That's pretty basic for a Mother.  You *know* when your children's birthdays are. Ya know? 
So that's how she's fairing. 

She wanted me to help her straighten and organize her room, and we got most of it done.  She has an art table that was COVERED with crap, and now that's clean and clear, so maybe she'll try making a collage again...
But i'm not holding my breath.

She and her husband (not my Dad) have their routine, and it works for them, and i doubt she'll get up the energy to break from routine and go in there and get inspired.  =-} 
But at least her art table isn't over there in the corner scowling at her anymore.  =-)

On my four hour drive home, i almost wept in the car at the start.  I had plenty of time to think, and to worry that i'll end up like her...
But that's another post, i think.
Right now i'm just trying to catch you up on my past week or two.



My near-and-dear friend i told you about in the last post HAS begun therapy.  She went one day last week while i was gone.  Her therapist recommended a book for her to read (about dealing with sexual abuse), and she actually bought it!  So i'm thankful that she's trying to deal with it head-on now. 
I am thankful that she went to a therapist.
I am thankful she actually got up the nerve/ felt comfortable enough with the therapist to talk about it/ what have you.
I am thankful that she's dealing with this now (as opposed to way later in life).

Now, I just need to be brave enough to call a therapist myself so i can continue healing from my one incident.



My dear Daddy...
Since the last post, Daddy got his staples out on July 12th, and the doc told him he was doing well, and to listen to his body and take it easy, slowly working up to his pre-accident self.
Well, i'm happy to say that Daddy *has* been taking it easy and trying to slowly work his way back.

However...
He has been having some clear-ish drainage on his pillow in the mornings (from his suture site).  He mentioned it to his doc, and they "looked" at his head and said it looked good.
At his second appointment, he mentioned again that he's *still* having clearish drainage on his pillow.  They "looked" at it, told him it looked fine, and sent him to a wound specialist. 
(When i say they "looked" at it, i mean that literally.  They simply leaned over him and peered at his wound.  They never touched it.  They never looked *closely* at it.  Nothing.)
The specialist started cleaning and whatever-a-wound-specialist-does, and in a couple of seconds, he got all excited (not in a good way).  The specialist said, "You need to go back to your neurologist right away."  Well, serendipitously, the neuro office called while the specialist was panicking-without-trying-to-panick, so Daddy said, "Here, talk to this specialist."
The specialist "talked in code" (according to Daddy), and Daddy went straight over to the neuro doc.
Guess what?!

Daddy's skin didn't "seal" with the staples, so he LITERALLY had a hole in his head!  Straight to his brain!!!

The neuro doc stitched up his head (again) and put him on horse-pill-sized antibiotics.  (July 23rd)

Daddy said he was telling me and Boyfriend this during our Saturday-morning-Breakfast-Ritual so we could *SUE* if anything goes horribly wrong because of this.   (Diclaimer!  We've never sued *anybody* for *anything*!  We're just not that way.  We don't feel anybody "owes" us anything.  But if they've fucked up my Daddy, you better believe we're suing!!!)

I still can't believe he was walking around with a hole open to his brain for almost TWO WEEKS!

When i shaved his head (somewhere around the week of the 12th), i told my husband that it looked like there was a hole there, but i just *knew* it couldn't possibly be!
So much for my wisdom, huh?  =-)


And now to end on a happy note:
Boyfriend and i have been talking with our next-door-neighbors about the four of us taking a trip together.
Well, when Boyfriend woke me with my Goodbye Kiss this morning, he said, "It's official!  I'm taking you to London and Paris on October 13th!"

I can hardly WAIT!!!

Big Ben

when Boyfriend went to England

with the Air Force

back in the 80s

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Yes, I'm Still Here...

...

I have put off writing this post.
Quite frankly, i still don't wanna write it, but i feel like i need to.


And you, Poor Soul, may just wanna skip reading this post!  =-)



Friday night, June 25th, my Daddy called me with the "pretense" of would i please go get a thermometer for him from the drug store.  He thinks he "might be running a bit of fever..."

Long story short, i took him to the E.R. around 10:30 that night.  We didn't get out of there until 7 (or so) a.m. the next morning! ...  But that was only to move upstairs where they admitted him to the Neurosciences department.
He stayed there until Thursday, July 1st, when they took him downstairs for a second operation inside his skull.  They didn't drain as much fluid off his brain as the first time, but he seems to be doing much better this time. 

And they let him go home on Saturday, July 3rd.  He's taking it easy (again), and seems to be doing well.

He doesn't always listen to his body, but his body language seems to be telling me that he's doing better this time.  He doesn't seem as "fuzzy-brained" as he was earlier this week, either.  I think he's doing alright.

Originally, i was so depressed on June 29th when they told us he'd need another operation.  And my older sister said, "Imagine how HE feels!" 
But he honestly seems to be doing better now.

I am so thankful.


But somewhere in there, (July 2nd, to be exact), someone very-near-and-dear told me she was molested in Fourth grade by a teacher!
A Teacher!!!
Not a "regular" teacher, but someone who just came once a week or so to help out the teacher.  A male.  And this someone near-and-dear is a female.



I

was

devastated.



Where was i? 
Where was i when this was happening? 
Why wasn't i there?!?
And why didn't i notice "a change" in this person?!
Why didn't i "know" that something had happened?!
Why didn't i notice any "tell-tale signs"?!?

I am *extremely* close to this person!!!  Why didn't i "sense" something?!?

Fourth grade was eight years ago for her... 
So this is "nothing new" for her.


But for ME?
For me, this is new.
So it's on my mind a lot!


And it brings up *my* past...

She said she thinks it's about then that she stopped wearing dresses.

Which made me think...  "...it's about then that *I* stopped wearing dresses..."
Why didn't i ever put that together before?

...which has me thinking about other "coincidents"...



So, is this why i've never really gotten close to anybody?  Boyfriend is my very best friend.  I honestly have no other "best friends".  Never have.
Is it because that trust was shattered for me as a little girl?
Is "He" the reason that i don't form close bonds with people?
The only close bonds i have are with my husband (though he DOES wish i'd talk more [imagine that!]), my daughters, and...  Well... that's about it. 
That's my little "inner circle".
I've always been "private".  "Hard to get to know" was the way one person described me...

Don't let me mislead you.
Though *her* deal is new to me, *my* deal is not.
I forgave "Him" a long time ago. 
I decided to forgive and move forward. 
I didn't dwell on it.  I never told anybody about "that one time". 
Except Boyfriend.  I told him a long time ago, but i never mentioned it again 'cause i forgave and moved on.  Boyfriend's probably forgotten about it, to be honest.  And i'm also betting "He" also forgot about it...
It was a long time ago.

But now...?
Now i am thinking about the "coincidences" that may have come along from "that one time long ago".  How has it really affected me?
How would i be different if "that one time" had never happened?!?
Would i be more personable? 
Would i have more true friends? 
Would i be more talkative and open and "vulnerable" with others?



The past is done, but it's how it affects us, how it makes us who we are, that concerns me right now.

If you've read this far...
Are you crazy?!?!   ;-)
Or are you just bored by your day so you're looking in on mine.
Whatever your reason,
thank you.
Thank you for listening.
Comments welcomed.  Honestly. 
'Cause i'm sitting over here in my little world with my own thoughts, and i'd seriously appreciate a couple of your thoughts.  Constructive or negative, whatever.
You know... When i was younger and decided to forgive "Him", it didn't really occur to me at the time that there was more to it than that.  I just thought it was best to be able to forgive "Him".  And i thought that if i forgave, then i would be able to move on, and hopefully one day, to forget.

...that didn't exactly happen.

And now this has happened to someone i love and care about.
Does everything really need to perpetuate?!
Is there a way i can help Her?  Not exactly "learn from my mistakes", but... Something?!?!


Right now, she doesn't want to talk about it.
But she IS willing to go to a therapist to talk about it.
I am thankful for that!



Hopefully, next time i'll have something much lighter to talk about!
=-)

(Before)

(After)

Happy...

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Happy Birthday to my Brother, Mickey!!!

When he was little, he always thought those fireworks were all in HIS honor!  =-)

I still think they are!  =-)

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