Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Memories.....Do Somethin' in The Corners of My Mind

Most of what we are today is fashioned by what we remember from yesterday. We set our tables a certain way because that's how we were trained to do it as children. We brush our teeth and clean our homes a certain way and eat certain foods because that's what we have been doing 'since we were kids'. Well, what if you can't remember how it was when you were a kid? What if that part of your life is gone from your memory? What would you do to get it back? Would you want it back? All of it....the good and the bad?

When Grover was 12, he was in an accident. He was at a young girl's house, friend of his, with a couple of other friends. Now this young lady's dad was the sherrif and her brother was a sherrif's deputy. She decides to show Grover and the others her brother's gun. It was a .22 LR (longrifle). About the time she brings the gun into the room, Grover (who is a Boy Scout at the time) tells her "you might want to put that up before you hurt someone". No sooner than those words are out of his mouth, the gun accidentally goes off. Grover is shot in the chest from two feet away with with this .22 LR which is loaded with hollow points. The young girl's mother (who is an RN) hears the gunshot, runs into the room, has someone call and ambulance and proceeds with CPR.

At the hospital, the doctors do not expect Grover to make it. They have him in surgery, where he dies. He remains clinically dead for 18 minutes. That's no pulse, no pressure....nothing for 18 minutes. That's a long time...a very long time ...to be dead. How he manages to come back is anyone's guess. His heart just started beating again. After this, of course, they didn't expect him to remain alive for very long after the surgery. So they just patched him up and went on.

He was not supposed to make it. Having made it, he was never supposed to be able to walk, talk, eat, think or breathe on his own. But he did. He did that and more. He taught himself to walk again, to talk again and eveything else. Just because he wasn't supposed to be able to. Because he's hardheaded like that;). But there is one thing that he has not been able to do. He can't remember. Anything from the first 12 years of his life. Occasionally he will have flashes of something but nothing that can be qualified as an actual memory. This has been more than a little frustrating for him. Especially now that he has children of his own and he would like to share stories from his childhood with them, except he can't remember any of his childhood to share.

I have trained myself to be more careful of the 'when I was a kid' stories around him, not that he has ever said anything about it but because I don't want him to be uncomfortable hearing them.

He wants to remember but he doesn't know how. It's a hard road to walk but he does it the same way he does everything else....with sheer determination and force of will. I have to give him credit because I don't know if I could do the same thing if it were me. To have to start your life all over again, with no reference points for the simple things. But he's done a fabulous job. And maybe when he's in his twilight years, he can take the life he's living now and be able to say "I remember when" with the rest of us. Somehow, that seems to be shallow comfort but it's what he has for now.

Peace allll ..........

Thursday, June 23, 2005

To Tell Ya The Truth.....

Several days ago, I read a couple of really, really good posts from Edge and Shane concerning the topic of honesty. I have been observing the people closest to me ever since to see how they stack up on the 'honesty scale.'

Most people I know do pretty well, as they attempt to be truthful most of the time, reserving the 'white lie' only when trying to save face or spare feelings. There are a couple that lie to breathe (that is, if they are breathing , chances are they are lying about something) but I can deal with those people because I KNOW that they are chronic liars and I just want to hear what kind of story they'll come up with this time. (They are quite inventive, these people....expecially the guy who said he was chased through the Alaskan wilderness by drug dealers on snow shoes.)

However, there is a third group of people that I simply cannot tolerate. These are the ones who use 'honesty' as an excuse for brutality. You know, the ones who simply cannot tell the truth with a modicum of tact but must be as rude about it as humanly possible, as if they are trying to see how low they can cut you down. And if you asked them why they say the things that they do, they will respond with the time honored phrase "What, you didn't want me to lie did you?"

No, I didn't want you to lie. Honesty is the best policy and so forth. However, I did expect you to take the 30 seconds it would have taken to arrange your 'truth' in the nicest form and not just blurt out the first thing that popped into your head. You see, children do that and we allow it because they are children. In the world of adulthood, there are other things to be considered....like how we might make another person feel, how we might be making ourselves look (in other words, if you don't want people to think you're an ass don't act like one) and what the verbal and physical responses to our 'honesty' will be. (Ever been popped upside the head for calling someone ugly? Keep calling people that and you will be)

I guess what I am trying to say in my rambling, long winded way is this: be honest, be truthful.... but above all ....be considerate. Much of our truth is subjective.....merely our opinion on things....and as such our idea of truth may or may not be someone else's. Keep that in mind before you publicly announce that your co-worker's breath stinks or that yes, that dress DOES make your wife look fat. (Believe me, someone else will think she's a beauty queen even if you don't)

And sometimes, in our quest for truth it's best to realize that the greatest truths are often found in silence.

And that's all I've got to say about that.

Peace alllllll...........

Monday, June 20, 2005

Let Me Tell Ya What Happened.....

Well, last week was an interesting (translate: sucked really bad) week.

Monday, the day of the IHOP meeting remember? One of my co-workers, Meghan, came to pick me up for that meeting, along with two other co-workers. About a mile away from the restaurant, her car overheated and just stopped. So we managed to push it into a little neighborhood and on to the side of the street. We call to see if someone can pick us up and we are told that the meeting has started, no one can leave, and when can we get there. Now, bear in mind, it's only 98 degrees outside, heat index oh, like 102 and we are stuck on the side of the road. So, I called Grover, he left work early and came and picked us up. By the time we got there the meeting was OVER. See, I could stayed have home and just cleaned the house.

Tuesday, had to take Lou to the dentist. Suffice it to say, that is enough said for that day.

Wednesday....had to hurry and make up for all of the housecleaning, laundry and bull that I didn't get done earlier in the week.

Thursday...went to work and proceeded to spill a tray of drinks all down a customer's back. (haven't done that in about 5 years) Fortunately, they were iced teas and waters, so they didn't burn her, just woke her up really good.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday....the deadest weekend businesswise I have ever had...no money, just a lot of aggravation....oh, and did I mention PMS is a bi......?

So, here's looking forward to a better week. For everyone.

Thank you for your time.:)

Peace alllll...........

Sunday, June 19, 2005

F Day

Happy, happy Father's Day to:

Fathers:
Men who are fathers
Men who are soon-to-be fathers
Men who would like to be fathers.....'one day'
Men who have been fathers
Adoptive fathers
Step-fathers
Single moms who are both mothers and fathers

And to all the brothers, uncles, nephews, mentors and all around good guys who make it look easy, even when it's not.

Oh, yeah....and a special prop to divorced men who still play an active role in their childrens lives as well as pay their child support on time

Oh, yeah, yeah.....HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO YOU GROVER! Love ya cuz:)

Peace alllll...........

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Stole This List

I stole this list from Red. I know, I know.....I have no hope of coming up with an original list of my own;) But I really enjoyed doing this one. So here goes:

If I were a month I'd be: October
If I were a season I'd be: autumn
If I were a day of the week I'd be: Thursday
If I were a time of day I'd be: 3:17 a.m.
If I were a planet I'd be: Mercury
If I were a sea creature I'd be: dolphin
If I were a direction I'd be: north northwest
If I were a sin I'd be: a lie
If I were a historical figure I'd be: Rosa Parks
If I were a liquid I'd be: water
If I were a tree I'd be: a mimosa
If I were a bird I'd be: albatross
If I were a tool I'd be: a pair of needlenose pliers
If I were a flower I'd be: sunflower
If I were a kind of weather I'd be: sunny, becoming darker later
If I were a mythical creature I'd be: an elf
If I were a musical instrument I'd be: a bass flute
If I were a house pet I'd be: a parakeet
If I were a color I'd be: indigo
If I were an emotion I'd be: frustration
If I were a vegetable I'd be: a bell pepper
if I were a fruit I'd be: a white seedless grape
If I were a sound I'd be: a bird chirping in a thunderstorm
If I were an element I'd be: water
If I were a car I'd be: Mustang GTO
If I were a song I'd be: "It's a Beautiful Morning"
If I were a book I'd be: "Farnham's Freehold"
If I were a place I'd be: the subway
If I were a material I'd be: denim
If I were a taste I'd be: watermelon taffy
If I were a scent I'd be: vanilla and oranges
If I were a word I'd be: YES!
If I were an object I'd be: a chalk board
If I were a body part I'd be: a hand
If I were a facial expression I'd be: a raised eyebrow
If I were a subject in school I'd be: British Lit
If I were a shape I'd be: a triangle
If I were an ice cream flavour I'd be: Neopolitan
If I were a celebrity I'd be: Kevin Spacey
If I were a body of water I'd be: the Indian Ocean
If I were a land form/area of land I'd be: the Black Hills
If I were something made of glass I'd be: a vase
If I were something made of paper I'd be: a poem...or a grocery list

Peace allllll...........

Mental Hellth

These are the days of quick fixes and instant gratification. It seems as if no one has the patience to wait for results and real problems are covered up and buried without ever being resolved.

Depression and anxiety disorders are two of the most common mental/emotional disorders in this country. Common courses of treatment: drugs, drugs, and more drugs. Now, while it's true that drugs do have their rightful place in treatment, whatever happened to that old-fashioned concept of psychoanalysis?


I know a young lady who has had a panic disorder for about 3 years. It's a mild one, but frustrating to her nonetheless. Her shrink talks to her about once a month, just enough to refill her prescriptions for Xanax, Paxil, Buspar and several other medications. They have never once discussed other methods of treatment. They have never discussed how to change her thought processes or how she can learn to change her reactions to situations. They have simply put her on drugs and she is exactly in the same position that she was 3 years ago. That have essentially cut her off at the knees. Any time she talks about going back to work, they are quick to tell her 'no we don't think you're ready'. But they are not so quick to take her off of the drugs, or to actually sit down and find the root cause of the problem.

Children with ADD or ADHD: drugs, drugs and more drugs. So few people bother to look for another cause of the disorder. They just want the problem to go away. They don't necessarily want to fix it, they just want to shut it up. (I'm not talking about the parents mind you, but the mental health care field as a whole.)

If there is not an organic cause, something actually physically wrong with the brain itself, why keep these people on drugs for quite possibly the rest of their lives? Is that fair to them or to their loved ones? Why can't the mental health professionals just do their jobs and talk to these people, get into their heads, figure out where the wiring short-circuited? Why are they so quick to give you a feel-good pill versus going on the trip with you until you get to the end of the road labeled 'well'?

I have had a panic disorder for 15 years. For a year and a half (1997-98) I was almost completely agoraphobic. (Meaning I could almost never go out of the house without having a panic attack) The one time I managed to talk to a shrink, the first thing she told me was "Well, I would like you to try this medication." I politely told her no thank you, had my friend check out some books from the library for me, prayed a lot and did the work myself. I haven't had a severe panic attack in over 5 years. It took a long time but with the help of real friends who were willing to talk to me and education I finally overcame it.

Like I said, there is a place for drugs in treatment, but drugs alone are not the cure for anything.

I know that there are some mental health care professionals who are NOT in it for the money, who actually have a heart for helping people. There are just not enough of them.

Sorry for the rant peeps. Sometimes you just gotta haul back and let fly though.

Peace allll..........

Monday, June 13, 2005

Uri.....No Way

Okay, so I had just finished the previous post and I was channel surfing. Ran across a commercial for this product called "Urine Gone". It is supposed to eliminate urine stains and odors....around the house. That's right.... AROUND THE HOUSE. A little nauseating but I figured...okay, for people with pets and toddlers (yeah, I know they can almost be one and the same;))...accidents happen and a product like this could be put to good use.

It was when they turned the blacklight on to show 'hidden' urine stains. It looked like a urine war had taken place in this area! Did they hire people or animals to just come in and let fly? There was pee on the bed, on the potted plants, the carpet, the floors, the couch......just everywhere. How did they get ahold of so much pee? And whose job was it to be the pee-wrangler, the pee collector, the pee placer? I hope he or she got paid really really well.

Just a freaky little blip in my day.

Peace allll..............

Monday Monday and My Job Sucks

Monday is my off day. On this day I normally spend a lot of time trying to restore my house to its fomer glory...i.e. the way it looked before I had to work all weekend and leave it to the whims and wiles of a handful of males whose idea of cleaning is to toss everything in the bedrooms or under the couches. Anyhow, this is what I do on Mondays. Once I get into the cleaning groove, I hate to be disturbed. It interrupts the rhythm, ya know. Today I have been interrupted.

IHOP is coming out with new and improved menus. (Like I care.) We are expected to learn each and every new item and refresh ourselves on the old ones (Like I care.) To aid us in this most noble cause, we are having a mandatory staff meeting at 3 p.m. today to discuss MENUS. Not tardiness, laziness, gossiping, shiftlessness, company policies or any of the many other worthwhile topics but menus. An hour and a half at least of my day wasted when they could just give us a copy of the new ones, tell us to learn it and have a nice day. But nooooooooo....that would be too simple and make entirely too much sense. They have to have the top dogs from the corporate office come down and hold our hands through this process like we just got off of the short bus this morning. Unfortunately I do not believe there will be a question and answer period at any point during this meeting but if there is I have a couple of questions:

1. Why, if we are not actually waiting on a table, are we expected to be clocked out on a break? This is the first restaurant I have ever worked in where they do not 'run breaks'. No thirty minutes of unadulterated time for you to sit down. You have to get in where you fit in.

2. Why is there a padlock on the inside of the back door in the kitchen? You can't get in from the outside, so why padlock the inside? Is this not a direct violation of the fire code? Just curious.

3. Do we have a random drug testing policy? If you want to drugs that's your business but I get so tired of working with people who can't handle what they ingest, start feeling sick and then just have to go home.


Anyhow, I'll leave the rest of my griping for another day. I have to go comb my hair. (See... another interruption....I normally don't do that on Monday;)) (That was a joke people)

I wonder if we're supposed to take notes during this meeting. I wonder if anyone would get mad if I raised my hand and asked how to spell 'pancake'? Just a thought.

Peace alllll...............

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Everywhere You Go.....

Everywhere you go, there you are......

When I was a kid, I used to daydream about what I would be when I grew up. And for a day or two I swore I would be....an astronaut, a pilot, a ballerina, a rock star, a veterinarian...etc. Until I realized that....you have to pee in your suit, you have to fly, you have to be ridiculously short, you have to be able to sing, and animals die sometimes, respectively.

Now that I am grown (physically anyway;)), I still daydream about what I could be and where I could go and what I could do when I get there. Of course, I recognize these for what they are...just daydreams, fantasies of what could be and what could have been. Everyone has them.

Everyone has dreams and everyone has regrets. These are the two main ingredients of life. No matter how hard you try to follow the first you can't avoid the latter. Why didn't I do this when I had the chance? Why did I do this when I could have done something else....something better?

Truth is, it probably wouldn't have been better....just different. And as long as you're breathing, you still have the chance.

A 'good life' isn't made up of money, a nice house and a fancy car. It isn't made up of extraordinary adventures and prestigous awards. It's made of simpler things. A walk in the park, a cat purring on your chest, jack-o-lanterns, snow, a glass of iced tea on a scorching summer day, holding hands when there's nothing else left to hold on to......threads of everyday life that weave the blanket that will cover you on the day of your last breath.

You may one day be remembered for having a lot of money, or being a great leader, or having many adventures....but not by the ones that matter. To the ones that are closest to you, the important ones, you will be remembered for who you were, not necessarily what you did.

Your truest goal in life is to be the best, most loving, most caring, kind, compassionate person that you can be. And you can do that right in your own backyard.

Remember this.....the grass may look greener on the other side of the fence, but once you climb that fence, all ya see is a lot of ragweed. And you can't always get back to the flowers that you left behind. (Yeah, yeah....I know that was a little too metaphorical...so sue me;))

Peace allll............

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Fathers and Sons....and Daughters Too

Grover and I took the kids swimming the other day. I know that sounds like a simple thing considering the pool is no more than 100 yards from our apartment but with an 11, 2 and 1 year old, it's like preparing for Hannibal's journey across the Alps. Gathering towels, floats, sunblock, sunglasses, hats, etc., etc. can be a monumental chore for just a couple of hours of fun in the sun. But it was worth it.

As I was sitting at a poolside table I watched my boys (Grover included;)) as they played in the water. There was much kicking and splashing and dunking and laughing and all around noise-making. And it struck me....this day is one of the happiest days in my life and hopefully my boys will remember it as one of "the good ole days" of theirs. And it is due, in large part, to Grover.

My father, for those of you who don't know this already, was an abusive, drunken beast of a man. I was told at the age of 4, by him, that he hated me, that I was a problem, and that if abortion had have been an option I would not even be there. He told me this on one of the few occasions where he was stone cold sober so I knew that he meant it. (Of course I didn't know what an abortion was until I was, like, 10 so that stament was just the gift that kept on giving huh?) I never understood his motives for telling me that and I don't understand it now. Of course, that was the beginning of the end of the relationship between me and my father. Many nights I heard him and my mom arguing and he proposed on more than one occasion that she should have gotten rid of all of us (my brothers and sister included....this was an equal opportunity household after all...I wasn't the only one who dealt with it..I just got the brunt of it.) I think that he hated me the most because I was so close to my mom. Of course, after he divorced my mom when I was 10, it was one of the happiest days of my life because it meant that I never had to deal with him again...or so I thought. He still came around occasionally to share the love when his latest girlfriend had kicked him out.

I swore to myself when I was young that if I ever had kids I would never treat them like that nor would I allow their father to do so. Because I know what it felt like and I know the damage that it has done. But I always wondered and worried about what would happen if I ever found myself in that situation with my own husband one day, with the father of my kids.

I don't wonder or worry about it anymore.

Grover is everything that my father was not. His sons are his world and there is nothing that he would not do for them. I have seen his eyes light up when he comes through the door from work and his boys are running to him for their "Hey daddy" hugs. I have seen him kiss them on their forehead while they are sleeping (or eating, or playing, or just virtually ignoring him at the time). He has broken into applause when they conquer some childhood obstacle like counting to 10 or saying their own name...or in Joshua's case bringing home the A's on the report card or getting the high score on Tekken (don't know why that's important to guys but it is;)). He has comforted them when they are upset, he has explained to them why they are in trouble this time, he has prayed with them, for them and over them,and he has wept over them when they have been sick.

Grover wants to be a good father...and he is.

All of my life I have wanted a good father and I finally got one.....just not in the way that I ever expected. If I couldn't have one of my own, I can at least say that God has truly blessed me with one for my children. Because they will never know what it feels like to be unloved or unwanted or unneeded by the people who are supposed to love them the most. There are times in life where they will be hurt and scars will form but hopefully those injuries will never come from us. And in knowing that they have escaped what I went through, my own scars are finally healing over.

Thanks Grove...

Peace allll...............

Saturday, June 04, 2005

It's My Turn

By request from OGO, live in Huntsville, Alabama.....ladies and gentlemen....the results of my music meme (anyone who knows what meme means please tell me because I sure don't).

1. The total volume of music files on my computer is.....a lot...a whole lot. Can't give you the exact number (that's more Grover's territory) but I have roughly 600 songs for my personal use...no telling how many Grover or Joshua have.

2. The last CD that I bought was...Suite for Flute and Jazz Piano by Jean Pierre Rampal. It was actually released in the late 80's and it took me forever to find this copy. (Yeah, I'm a band geek....so sue me;))

3. The song playing right now is...Dragula by Rob Zombie...meant to be played as loud as you can stand it

4. Five songs that mean a lot to me:

1. "Drift Off to Dream" by Travis Tritt....you guessed it .....this is our song...mine and Grover's that is

2. "The Border Song" by Elton John...hard to find these days but definitely worth it

3. "Precious Lord" preferrably the Mahalia Jackson version....has gotten me through many long days

4. "This Little Light of Mine" my babies' favorite.....guaranteed to stop any meltdown....must be
accompanied by the clapping to get the full effect

5. "This Ain't No Thinking Thing" by Tracy Byrd...you all know that I met Grover on the internet. The
third time we ever talked on the phone he broke out his guitar, played this and sang it for me over
the phone.....while I was at work. See why I married him now?;)

Okay....I'm passing this one on to Grover because I want to make sure he updates every now and again and to Adrienne if she feels like it:)

Thursday, June 02, 2005

This and That

Thanks, Grover, for finally posting again! It's good to see you back in blogsville:) Now, can we please be a little more consistent? Thank you.

My children have dentist's appointments next week. At this dentist, they do not allow the parents to go back with the kids. They say that the kids are easier to handle without the parents presence. Is this something I should worry about I wonder? In this day of freaks and weirdos I guess I'm a little paranoid but I really don't like this practice.

I have had a very boring week. I have deliberately avoided the news (for once) because Grover swears that I get very hostile afterwards. He thinks it's PMS. I think it's just a reaction to government stupidity;).

Anyone that has never read Grover's blog give it a whirl. He's a weirdo but I love him still...today anyway;)
http://groversgripes.blogspot.com

Will be back with more as soon as someone ticks me off sufficiently! (Shouldn't take long around here.)

Peace all..........