Tag: friends

Musings of the Mind

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

Please indulge me. Typically, my rambling posts take place on Friday; however, I feel the need to ramble today. So many thoughts are filling my head, I fear I will explode if I don’t release some of the pressure. Some of these ramblings may be repeats. My apologies.

My friend emailed me last night, providing me with an update on her Mom. The news was not good. We all hoped (and prayed) the chemo was working to reduce the size of the tumors. Unfortunately, the CT scan showed the chemo did not work, and the tumors showed signs of growth. Fortunately, my friend’s Mom started a new chemo-cocktail yesterday. Again, we turn to hope and prayers to yield the results we want.

My friend is off to see her Mom later this month. She’ll get to spend quality time with her Mom – just the two of them. As my friend shared the news with me that she purchased the tickets and made the plans, I remembered my Dad.

January 1994. My family had mentioned Dad seemed depressed. My family had mentioned my Dad was not acting like his normal self. Though no one in the family knew what was going on with my Dad, it was apparent something was happening. Mid-January. I buy a ticket to fly home the 2nd week of February to be with my Dad and family. Late January. We find out my Dad has Lung Cancer.

February 4, 1994. I receive a phone call at work. It was my sister. My Dad was admitted to the hospital. Another sister of mine was working with Delta (she’s a flight attendant) to help me get a plane ticket to Atlanta. I leave work, and head to my place in DC before heading to the airport.

I think I arrived in Atlanta around 4pm. My sister-in-law’s parents met me at the airport and drove me to Piedmont Hospital. The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever (as did the flight from DC to Atlanta, for that matter). I don’t remember what my sister-in-law’s parents told me. I was in a daze. I was nervous. And, my stomach was in knots just like my stomach is in knots now, as I retell the story.

Walking with my friend through her Mom’s Cancer battle, takes me back to my walk during my Dad’s battle, his incredibly short battle. I met my friend (and another) prior to my Dad’s death, and my friend (and the other) got me through my Dad’s death.

I didn’t have the prep-time my friend has with her Mom. I was called. I boarded a plane. And, I saw my Dad – unconscious. He was in and out of consciousness before I arrived in Atlanta, and my Mom and siblings told him I was on the way to see him. But, I didn’t make it. He did not regain consciousness after I arrived, and he died shortly after midnight, February 5th. My Dad was gone. And, I did not have the kind of closure that eases the horrific sting of death. I admit there is a selfish side to me walking with my friend, as her Mom battles cancer; walking with my friend helps me come to terms with my Dad’s death.

He’s been gone for 16yrs. The intense pain I felt when he died has lessened significantly. But, as those of you who have lost a loved one know, the pain never truly goes away. And, as sick as it sounds, I find it comforting to feel the sadness again. I find it comforting to feel the pain. It is as if my Dad is with me all over again. Though I don’t remember him as the man hooked up to the respirator, unconscious. I remember him smiling, smoking, drinking, joking and being the burly New Englander, striking fear in my friends with his deep voice and subtle humor. I remember his laugh. And, I remember him answering the phone by saying, “Yell’oh.” (That’s Yankee for ‘Hello’.)

Hmm . . . maybe my head isn’t overwhelmed with countless thoughts at once. Perhaps my head is just filled with thoughts of my Dad and thoughts of my friend and her Mom. No. Really, my head is filled with other stuff, too. But compared to family and friends, the other stuff is just crap. I won’t sweat that other stuff, and you shouldn’t either. Now, reach out to a loved one by phone, email or better yet – send a card or letter via snail mail. Why not?

Round and round it goes; where it stops no one knows

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

It’s risky. Me writing this late in the day. The caffeine that gave me the pleasant perk of the morning is long gone. The chipper moods of the kids have changed to cranky,  while my energy level slowly sinks with the setting sun. What makes me think I have the wherewithal to write now? Then again, what makes me think I have the wherewithal to write at all on any given day?

Tonight, right now, I write as an outlet. I need an outlet. Don’t we all need outlets of some sort? Typically, my outlet consists of the delicious dairy delight called ‘ice cream’. However, because I am determined to be ice cream free for 40 days, I do not want to pacify myself with the frozen delicacy. So, I write. [Day 8, by the way. I’ve gone 8 days so far.]

Today, when I picked up my oldest from Kindergarten, his teacher informed me he had an ‘incident’. Seems my child became upset about something, and he threw a peppercorn at one of the teachers. Sports aside, throwing something at someone is not acceptable. Now, add to the fact that the peppercorn thrown by my child got stuck in the teacher’s ear, and well my child did not win any awards today. It’s a shame the “Peppercorn Toss” was last week.

My oldest has a temper. I have written about his temper in previous posts. And, as I have also mentioned previously, he gets his temper from me. My reaction to his behavior today was embarrassment at first. After quickly overcoming the embarrassment, I was sad. A temper is a horrible waste of energy, and the damage that a temper can cause is extensive. I don’t want a temper filled life for either of my boys. And, I hope this isn’t an indication of things to come.

I remind myself that my son is only five years old, as if there is an acceptable age to throw things. I tell myself that the art of peppercorn tossing is underrated. And, I doubt my son would be able to throw the peppercorn in the teacher’s ear, if he were to try again. Unless she is a TWEOUS, Teachers with ears of unusual size. But I digress. Oh, and before I forget, the peppercorn was successfully removed from the TWEOUS’ ear.

My son was punished for throwing the peppercorn. When we came home from school, he went to his room, where he spent the rest of the day. And, he wrote a letter to the teacher saying he was sorry for what happened. He lost a few other privileges as well, in hopes we drove the point home, without throwing him for a loop. (HA! Sorry, a little throw humor.)

The hardest part about tonight was my son’s frustration, once home. Upset he was banished to his room, he took the opportunity to yell a little, cry a little and pound a little. Okay, okay, so he did all of the above more than just a little. The thing that got me was his yelling, “Why don’t you love me?” “Why don’t you like me?” He was breaking my heart. And again, I remind myself he is only five years old. Wait. Five years old?! Why is he saying stuff like this at five years old? Where’s the ice cream. I need some ice cream.

After supper, things started settling down, well things settled some, okay things settled a little – okay fine, the banished one was still upset. I phoned a friend, and I started to tell her about my day. When I mentioned what the banished one had done, she laughed and said, “Oh, just wait. You’ll be able to laugh about this soon.” Then I heard crying on her end of the phone, causing her to ask “What happened?” She let me know that one of her kids had just kicked the other kid. And, we laughed. Laughter sure beats ice cream, at least calorically speaking. Peppercorns anyone?

Friday Frenzy

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

.:: Lent in August

You’ve heard the marketing ads, “Christmas in July!” Well, I am going to celebrate “Lent in August”. Monday I started my ice cream fast. I am going 40 days and 40 nights without consuming ice cream. And, I am afraid. I am very afraid.

A year and a half ago I weighed 147 lbs. And now? 165lbs. 165. That is utter craziness! However, this normally flat chested girl must admit, I quite enjoy feeling a little bounce of the boobs when I walk. I should start running to increase the bouncing action. But um. No. That won’t happen. And, sadly, when I lose the 15 pounds I seek to lose, the slight bounce I feel when I walk will be flattened. (Still only an ‘A’ cup, many would call me flat chested now. But, a flat-chested girl can dream.)

So, as of last Monday, no more ice cream for 40 days (well, 34 days now, but who is counting? Yeah, that’s right – me!). The shakes have started. And, I am not referring to milk shakes. Wish me luck, please. Wish me luck and weight loss, with a side order of movement. After all, the weight won’t come off easily, unless I get off my every growing butt and move it – move it – move it.

.|.

.::Flowers

I took Charlie with me to the grocery store this week. As we passed the floral department, he asked if he could get some flowers. Thankful he wasn’t asking for ‘junk’, I was happy to oblige his request. He picked out a cute $5.00 bouquet, and he has enjoyed it all week. Cute kid.

As is often the case, when one child gets something the other child makes a similar request. Joe asked if I could take him to the grocery store one day, so he could buy flowers. Normally, I would have brushed off his request, if only to discourage the “he has one – I want one” mentality. However, Joe added, “I can use money from my piggy bank to buy the flowers.” Smart kid.

I did take Joe to the grocery store, and he spent several minutes trying to decide the best way to use his money. Though not every selection was within his ‘budget’, he realized the smaller the bundle the lower the price. Eventually, he decided on a small pot of Parade Roses for $3.99. Frugal kid.

Not too shabby. The pretty flowers he purchased will last longer than the bundle Charlie picked. In fact, provided Joe cares for the flowers, the roses may last for years to come. Good kid.

.|.

The Imposter, by sekiyoku

.:: Discomfort

This week proved challenging for me with regards to my virtual world. Virtual friendships were called out for the awkwardness. The unspoken feelings. The obvious yet unacknowledged dislike. I needed to bring it to light, for my own sanity. I asked questions, and I received answers.

I have often heard the phrase, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to”, and this week I learned, first hand, the importance of such advice. I also learned the truth in Maya Angelou’s thought, “The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.”

For the most part, I am an open book. By flipping through the virtual pages of this blog, one should quickly realize I share a great deal about my life. My openness may create discomfort and annoyance for some, while others may find it refreshing. I share, because if I keep these thoughts to myself, I will go insane. By the same token, I share, which places a large target on myself. I mean, it’s not hard to attack my character flaws, when I list the flaws (in alpha-order) for you.

My writing is my outlet; and those who know me best have come to accept and expect it from me. Over the years, in fact, those who know me best have encouraged me to write. (Though maybe they wish I wouldn’t be so forthcoming with everything in my life.)

This is me. All of me. Like it or not. I don’t claim to like everyone who crosses my path, nor do I expect everyone who crosses my path to like me. However, I do my best to play nice in the sandbox and always be myself. And, I hope you will play nice, too. If you don’t like me, that is fine; please just move on along, remove me from your life, and let’s continue down our own separate path. And please, to avoid confusion, close the door behind you. Thank you.

.|.