BIRTHDAY CELEBRATIONS

 

      Growing up, birthdays and birthday celebrations were extremely important family occasions. It wasn’t that anyone received expensive gifts, but that the family recognized “your” special day. I continued that into my married life with my family; however, it now seems to have reached a point where there is little to no celebration of any one family member’s birthday.

My daddy became a baker, so while the presents may not have been terribly expensive, the cake was always superb and the desired flavor. Daddy eventually learned how to decorate, so I believe our cakes were decorated by him at some point. I always looked forward to my “special” day and cannot remember ever being horribly disappointed by the gifts, cake, ice cream or celebration.

Once I began celebrating birthdays in my own home, I always asked the celebrant what kind of cake was wanted. Then, I tried to bring this desire to fruition. It wasn’t always easy, i.e., there was the time one son asked for a cake that had like eight layers. It took an entire day just to bake the damn cake. The other son was easy and always wanted German chocolate. John wasn’t much of a cake person and preferred pies, i.e., lemon meringue, cocoanut, butterscotch…any of those would do.

Right up until the year of John’s death followed six months later by Covid, I still prepared a dinner and a cake for family members. Of course, with Covid, there was no gatherings to celebrate any event whatsoever. And, since Covid restrictions have been more or less eliminated, it seems that folks are happy with the celebrations implemented during that period. 

Still, with the youngest son’s forty-fifth birthday in the near future, I’m going to miss making baked potato soup and German chocolate cake. But, even more than the food, I’m going to miss having all the family around the table to celebrate.

DID I OR DIDN'T I???

         

       Yesterday I had lunch with a couple of friends and we were talking as friends do. They very kindly asked me to send them the link to this blog. I just did so. In sharing past tales of my (our) life, one of them also asked me if I'd blogged about the tale I'd just told. I wasn't actually sure, which meant I'd need to go back into my blog, which is now five years old and try to figure out if that had been a subject. I'll need to set aside some time in order to do that. 

        You must know how it is...the older I get, the less I seem to retain. It's entirely possible I blogged about the couple of tales I shared, but it's also possible those tales slipped my mind. I'll need to write the ideas down and then go back and see if the tale has already been told. If it hasn't, you, dear reader, can look forward to some new...and amusing?...tales in the near future.

MATH IS HARD

         

       

       It wasn't until Friday morning when our eldest son texted, "Then I came along 4 years later." in response to a text I sent him, "Your dad and I met 58 years ago last night." that I realized my math was wrong, wrong, wrong. 

     There I was criticizing my son for his poor math skills, i.e., his dad and I had met in 1965 and married in 1966, so it was four years after the marriage that he came along. At this point, it occurred to me that it was now 2025 and if I subtracted 1965 from 2025, I'd get sixty, not fifty-eight. Had to change the blog post I made earlier in the week to reflect the correct number.

    Yep, my son is truly mine, especially when it comes to math...we both suck.

SIXTY YEARS AGO...ALMOST

      At the very end of January, I went to see Nephew Michael. He is John’s sister’s son and I hadn’t been to his house in decades (shame on me!!!). We had a wonderful visit and he toured me around his home. I was amazed at all the changes, additions and extremely hard work Michael had done. He told me that it was his Uncle John who had taught him how to perform most of the work involved in the renovations and changes. 

Michael also told me that he didn’t have one photo of his Uncle John and asked if I could send him some. Apparently, I’m not the only person Michael has told about his Uncle John being responsible for his learning how to renovate/Improve. He said whenever he talked about his Uncle John and his teachings, he would sometimes be asked for a photo. So, I went through the photos I have on this computer. Of course, they only go back so many years because while I went through all the hard copies and organized them by date, I never scanned them into the computer…and I won’t either.

So, I spent a few hours traversing memory lane for as far back as the photos went. Our photos brought back so many great memories of the wonderful times John and I had together as well as memories that are recorded on the hard copies. It also made me remember family and friend times we shared. I didn’t end up crying, but I did feel my heart grow a few sizes. I also felt my mouth smile a lot and my ears were treated to the sound of my laughter when certain memories were evoked. 

This was certainly a timely request from Michael and effort on my part. You see, come the day before Valentine’s Day, it will be sixty years since John and I met. I’ve never forgotten that first meeting at the home of mutual friends, how my eyes began at John’s shoes and travelled upward to meet his golden-brown eyes. I also remember the way my heart/mind jolted as our eyes connected. Love at first sight? Lust at first sight? It was probably a combination of the two.

Exactly one and a half years later, almost to the hour, we married and began a life together that spanned one day short of fifty-three years. Together we created a home, produced children, loved and fought our way through all those years. And, those years contain way more love and happiness than anger and sadness. Most of the anger and sadness were lodged in our final years together. John’s health was failing and I so wanted him to do and get better. That goal was unobtainable and made us both wrathful and miserable with each other. 

Of course, I’m sorry now for not being more patient and understanding during that time, but as anyone whose been there, done that will most likely agree, it’s hard, so very hard to watch someone you’ve spent your life with, someone you’ve loved for all those years slowly diminish. It was scary to think John wouldn’t keep on in my life. It was scary to think I’d end up alone like all the women in my family before me. Being scared made me angry.

My anger didn’t dissipate with John’s death. It hung around for a while longer as I angrily became adjusted to being alone. And, being alone after all those years is hard, so very hard. Some days once the anger was replaced by grief, I didn’t think I’d be able to get to the next day. And this feeling isn’t one I felt anyone else who hadn’t been there and done that would actually understand, so not a lot of folks with whom I could share how hard and lonely life was (and still is) at times.

But, as John had left my life, the anger finally left as well. It was followed by deep feelings of grief that eventually became a bit numb, although there are times those emotions can return and feel almost as raw as they were early on. I learned to live life on my own, comforted by the great memories and lifetime we shared. Michael’s request for photos became this year’s early Valentine’s Day present. While I won’t be getting big hugs, a terrific early Valentine’s Day gift, or great sex, my trip down that photographic memory lane reminded me how fortunate we were to have been so in love/lust for so long, to have shared so many years together. 

I still miss John. I probably always will, but remembering and cherishing what we shared during our life together does bring me comfort. I’m also thankful for our nephew giving me a reason to take a good long look back. For the reminder of how grateful I am even now for the warmth and joy all those trips down our very long memory lane engendered so close to the very date we entered one another’s lives. 

      And, since John isn’t here to provide that See’s one-pound box of dark chocolates in remembrance of our pre-Valentine’s Day anniversary, I’ll make the trip myself and eat them all myself in celebration of the years full of love and memories we shared beginning February 13th, 1965. 

WHY CAN'T I GO TO SLEEP???

 

According to research about being/staying healthy, I should get seven to eight hours of sleep a night. Well, I must be very unhealthy because I’m having an extremely hard time getting to sleep once I’m in bed. And, let me tell you, it sucks laying there listening to Kuma snore and being unable to turn my mind off. There are actually nights, or early mornings, where I’d be happy to go to sleep permanently.

It’s not like I haven’t tried almost everything I can think of or done research about what I can take/do in order to be able to go to sleep. Usually, when I do go to sleep, I stay asleep. Or, if I wake up and have to use the bathroom, I’m able to go right back to sleep. So, what have I tried that allows me to be asleep fairly soon after my head hits the pillow.

• I take a five mg tablet of melatonin but think I’m going to try not taking it for the next week.

• I’ve tried a cocktail before, with or after dinner.

• I’ve tried breathing in and out slowly.

• I’ve tried relaxing my entire body beginning with my toes; and when that didn’t work, I tried doing it in reverse order.

• I’ve tried having the television on, programmed to go off in sixty or one-hundred-twenty minutes.

• I’ve tried reading a book.

• I’ve tried using my phone.

• I’ve tried ignoring my phone for an hour before bedtime.

• I’ve tried a half tablet of Xanax and this does work, but I can’t take it past a certain time if I want to be cognizant the next morning. I also can’t take it on a regular basis. My new MD probably won’t prescribe it again because she believes a glass of wine and a Xanax could kill me. 

• I’ve tried trazadone once which is what my new MD wants me to take in lieu of Xanax. The side-effects from this medication will preclude my taking it again. And, sheesh, I have three refills left.

• I’ve tried more and less exercise during the day to wear myself out.

      As I stated in the second paragraph, I’ve researched online to see if there’s something I can do/take to insure I go to sleep. And, as whoever may be reading this knows, there are a ton of options, most with a hefty price tag. Each possibility “guarantees” it will work for me. I seriously doubt that and cannot afford to keep trying one after another to find that “one,” if there is one, that does the trick. 

     So, there you have it. Why doesn’t one of these solutions work so I could resort to it on a nightly basis? I have no idea. All I know is that I’ve been up for almost two hours and I’m ready to go back to bed. But that’s not a choice I can make because I have stuff to do, stuff that needs to get done. Maybe tonight I’ll fall asleep soon after I nestle into my bed…hope so anyway.

KINDA SCARY MEDICAL PROFILE

          I just printed out my medical “profile” as posted by the surgeon who may or may not perform surgery on my right wrist. Perhaps because I was a new patient to him, his “notes” listed every single thing that’s been and is now wrong with me. Under “Past Medical History,” there are twenty-five notations. Under “Patient Active Problem List,” there are twenty-nine subjects. And, okay, some of those were repeated from the past history list. 

Still, it’s just a bit alarming to count the number of problems and to realize I have ALL these things wrong with me. Sheesh. I thought I was in fairly good health. True, I never check the first choice when asked about my health, but I do always check the second box which, to me, means my health is pretty good. It’s also true that I was/am aware of every single thing on the list. I guess just seeing it listed out, one after the other, in alphabetical order no less, made me pause and wonder how I’m still up and walking around.

I also guess that seeing the “Active Problem” kinda sent me round the bend. It is true that every single thing listed is applicable to me, but so many of them don’t really deserve the “active” connotation, at least in my opinion. I guess I’ll save this printed copy and take it with me the next time I see my Personal Care Provider. Meanwhile, I’m going to continue on as I have been…taking it one day at a time and, for the most part, feeling perfectly fine. 

FEELING JOYFUL

 

         While I may have felt “forlorn” in my last blog post, it’s definitely not the way I was feeling Thursday evening. I was feeling very loved and very fortunate to be my granddaughter’s Nana. But first, a little background.

Some time ago, I made an appointment for Kuma to be groomed. Just a couple weeks ago, I had to make an appointment for an MRI for myself; and wouldn’t you know, it had to be the same day as Kuma’s appointment, although at a different time. Regardless, I wouldn’t be able to pick Kuma up in a timely manner when his grooming was finished.

So, I called granddaughter Haley and asked if she could pick Kuma up after she got off work. She agreed to do so. I was most grateful, and when we had a conversation the day before, she suggested we have Mexican food after I got back home. Sounded great to me.

Haley picked up Kuma and came back to my house. I had my MRI and managed to make it back home from Bellevue by 5:00 pm. Haley and I had already decided we’d go to the Mexican restaurant just up the road from here…her favorite food is Mexican. I figured I’d buy since she picked up Kuma for me. I was wrong because Haley said she’d told me she was buying when the subject of dinner came up.

So, I had a delicious Mexican dinner with Haley which included a Marguerita. Being treated by my grown-up granddaughter was a wonderful pleasure, but the absolute best part was the time she spent with me and the conversation we shared. 

       I cherish these experiences with her even though we may not talk about anything that’s earth-shattering or world changing. Just having her share this time, which included so much laughter and discussion about our mutual interests and futures means so much to me. The next time I feel “forlorn,” I must remember this delightful dinner and the warmth, love and joy it engendered.