Category Archives: Family/Friends

The Night Dad Scared The H*ll out of Me

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It’s getting to be too much for both of us. Getting groceries, that is. I always place a curbside order once a week. I try to limit items to no more than 20. It never fails I end up with more than 20 because one of us forgot we needed toilet paper or paper towels or something else.

Dad and I pick up the order, which is the easy part. (Good grief, I hope Walmart never discontinues this service!) When we get home, I load bags of groceries into a utility cart. Heavier items go on the bottom, of course. Dad pulls the cart up the ramp and into the house. The problem is, we still have some heavy items like water and kitty litter. I use our lunch cart for those items; I bring the cart to the door and Dad carries those items to the door and puts them on the cart. It’s not far because I pull right up to the ramp. When all is unloaded, I tell Dad to go change his clothes so he can sit and rest. I unload the groceries from the utility cart and put things away.

Dad changed his clothes and sat down in his chair to rest. He was exhausted and went to sleep. He fell asleep off and on for the rest of the day. Later, he watched a movie or something on the Firestick. I was in the kitchen doing a puzzle, listening to an audiobook.

When it crept closer to 10pm, which is his bedtime, I knew he had fallen asleep because he was so quiet. Normally, I hear him cough, laugh, talk to one of the cats, or more often than not, drop something like the remote. He falls asleep in his chair all the time so I didn’t think twice about it…until it was 10:15 and he was still not even getting ready for bed. Usually, he gets ready for bed around 9:45.

I went to check on him and there he was fast asleep. I saw his chest rising and falling but he was out like a light! I called out to him to tell him what time it was. He didn’t wake up. I called out louder and still, he didn’t wake up. I sat down in my chair to give the furbabies their Temptations snacks, as per our normal routine. Trust me, they were all sitting by my chair waiting. They knew it was past time! 

I kept trying to wake Dad, getting louder and still, nothing. Finally, I touched his hand and tried again to wake him. He just would not wake up! I shook his arm; still nothing. I shook harder and finally, thank God, he woke up! He scared me to death. I thought I had lost him. I just cried in a huge wave of relief. He had no idea what was going on. 

I dread the day I have to say goodbye to this man who has truly been there for me my entire life. He is closer to a best friend than I’ve ever had in my life. (Even closer than the best friend I actually had, who come to find out, was judging me all along.) He has helped me raise my kids when their father couldn’t be bothered to write to them. We have shared many things, including finances and health issues.

Losing Dad will be the biggest loss I will ever face. 

Honey Buckets, Quonset Huts, and Desegregation – A Few Memories of A Korean War Veteran

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Dad is a Veteran of the Korean War, 1950-1953. He and his buddy joined the military together, thinking they would be stationed in the same branch but it didn’t work out that way. Dad wanted to get in on the G.I. Bill so he could continue his education after his duty ended. He always wanted to be a pilot but they wouldn’t let him in the Air Force because of some reason or another. It may have been the fact that he is missing a couple of toes on his right foot that could affect his balance. His buddy was declared too short to be a pilot. I can vouch for that fact, as I knew him as I was growing up. He was just a little over 5′ feet tall. Anyway, Dad ended up in the Army and his buddy some other branch. 

 

This was Dad’s High School Graduation photo, right before he joined the US Army and was shipped off to Korea.

Dad shared with me a few memories of his days in Korea. I’ll try to write them here as best I can. His memories are a little blurred in some cases. 

 

Dad never saw combat. I’m thankful for that. He may have a completely different personality and/or outlook today if he had experienced combat. They put him in the engineering department. One of the duties he might see was building or repairing a bridge. The sergeant in charge learned very quickly to NOT let my Dad do any of the sawing! To this day he can’t saw a straight line, even with a guide of some kind! Dad laughs at this memory every time! He said the sergeant was heard yelling, “Don’t give Davenport a saw!” 

The weather in Korea was extreme, from freezing cold snowy winters and miserably hot and humid summers. Many veterans suffered extremity injuries due to the extreme cold. 

When Dad wasn’t in the field, he sometimes worked in the kitchen peeling potatoes, washing dishes, wiping tables, cooking, etc. He said he’d rather pull KP than other duties because even though it was hard work, it was nothing compared to being out building bridges in the heat or being on guard duty during the night when it was below freezing. There were also a few perks that came with KP like extra food if there were leftovers.

His mother, my grandmother, once sent him a cake (from California to Korea) and by the time he got it, it was hard as a rock. What was she thinking? 

Dad bought his mom a set of China as a gift and it actually shipped all the way from Korea to California without being broken. Dad acquired the set when his mother passed away years ago. A few pieces are missing but it’s still a beautiful set.

Dad’s unit bunked in a Quonset hut. The men took turns standing guard and Dad remembers being so tired that he would fall asleep standing up. In the winter, he couldn’t even feel his feet. The men had to make sure they kept their feet dry.

In the camp, they used what they called honey buckets for human waste. He said camp smelled just awful. When it came time to empty the “honey buckets” some guys would have to go down in the hole (knee-high) and scoop the waste out with buckets and then the buckets would be hauled up to be dumped elsewhere. Dad said the Koreans used it to fertilize their crops. 

Dad said he and a few of his buddies from his unit used to pay a nice Korean man to take their laundry. The man’s wife would do the laundry including ironing and the man would return with the laundry. I always think about that poor Korean woman who got stuck doing all that laundry for a few measly bucks and if her husband actually shared it with her. 

Dad smoked back then, as did so many. The men used to trade cigarettes for chocolate and vice-versa. If they needed something and they had cigarettes or chocolate, they could easily trade. 

The Korean War was the first to enlist whites and blacks together. No segregation! Dad said that didn’t stop the racism, which was evident everywhere. When Dad went on leave to Sol, he went with some buddies, a few of whom were black. They all wore their uniforms because bars and other establishments were happy to let our soldiers in. But if you were black, forget it. Even with a military uniform, blacks were not allowed into white establishments. Dad said many times he and his buddies told owners, “If all of us can’t come in then NONE of us are coming in.” Those establishments lost a lot of business. Dad and his buddies went to black bars instead. They were all welcomed there. 

Some Korean War Veterans have memories of death and killing. Thankfully, my Veteran Dad does not. 

The Memory of A Bridge Too Far

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Back in 1977, I was a mere 15 years old. I took my Dad to the movie theater to see a war movie called A Bridge Too Far. I never liked war movies, and I still don’t care that much for them. Dad and I watched this movie on DVD last Friday night. It was still a good movie, all 3 hours of it. With an all-star cast and great production, it kept my attention. Not just Friday night, but all those years ago when I was just 15 years old! This really isn’t about the movie, though. It’s about the memory of seeing it with my Dad.

For all these years, I thought we saw the movie with the original Jaws, but after Googling Jaws, I learned that there were 2 years between the movies. I asked Dad about it and he said he remembered us going to the movies twice; first to see Jaws and then a second time to see A Bridge Too Far. Now, his short-term memory sucks but he does have good long-term memory so I have to trust his memory vs. mine. 

I think I had more fun in the theater with my Dad than I ever did with my mom. I took Mom to see Jaws, too. Of course, she drove because in 1975 I was only 13. She laughed during the movie (sadistically, I might add) and seemed like she couldn’t wait to get home. I never went with her again! 

Dad was a different story. He has always loved a good war movie. As a kid, he and his friends used to go to the movies. It cost just a few measly cents to get into the theater back then. Oh, the stories he used to tell about those days! He was happy to see a good war movie, even with his daughter. We had popcorn and soda, everything my treat. I spent my hard-earned babysitting money! It was a good memory. Just me and Dad. 

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A Bridge Too Far / 1977 / Starring Sean Connery, Michael Caine, Anthony Hopkins, Robert Redford, James Caan, Ryan O’Neal, Gene Hackman, Lawrence Olivier, Elliott Gould, Maximilian Schell, Ben Cross, and more.

C’est La Vie…

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Another one bites the dust, as they say. I’ve had to let another friend go. Was it my fault? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe fault lies with both.

Do I push people away? Yes, I suppose I do but I prefer to say, “I let them go,” because I’m not the only one doing the pushing. I don’t always say something to them because it’s subtle and I know the person is just trying to help.

First of all, with no real understanding of my pain and its cause, people have a tendency to want to help. They offer advice and remedies; perhaps supplements, or exercises. I get tired of trying to explain. It’s not like I haven’t tried nearly everything under the sun and within my budget and ability, to help myself. Nothing helps because it’s severe bone and joint damage/pain I suffer from. Nothing is going to help except for knee replacements. That’s an entirely different post.

I get tired of disagreeing with people. People who bring up the same things in conversation, knowing full well that I disagree. It’s like they are looking for an argument. Then they make me feel as though I can’t question what they have said. I think it’s healthy to question things and if you can’t disagree with someone, what the hell is the point?

I don’t like filtering everything I say all the time. I watch what I say when I’m in public or when it’s someone I don’t l know well, but constantly having to worry about what to say or how I should say it, makes it hard to have a discussion without tension.

I’m not a negative person but I have bad days, some worse than others. Some people don’t recognize that I’m more a realist than anything else. I prefer to see things as they are, not how I want them to be. That doesn’t make me a negative person but there I was being told how negative I was all the time.

Having a gift (my cookbook) declined with, “I don’t want it,” is hurtful. No matter how nicely you put it.

Sometimes, I feel provoked. Knowing perfectly well how I feel about YouTube “information” for example, but still trying to push it at me like it’s fact drives me insane! My bad for not stopping it as soon as it started.

When I reach a certain point, I start to lash out. Then, when the other person lashes out, I fall back into the “everything is my fault” mindset, that stems from my 12 years in an emotionally and mentally abusive relationship. So, I apologize. I try to explain. I apologize again. Afterward, I’m left with more anger because I realize that I was being baited in the first place. Baiting denied, of course. But it was like being pulled back into routine manipulation, as I experienced so long ago. Not doing that again, for anyone.

I guess that’s why my circle is small. When I’m with other friends, my mood is elevated and I feel less stress. Things are positive and fun, relaxing. I don’t feel exhausted afterward.

So, the end is the end. I feel sad but I feel peace at the same time. I don’t know how else to explain it. I’m heartbroken to have ended a friendship, but at the same time I feel peace in knowing that I won’t have potential conflict and disagreement slapping me in the face anymore.

C’est la vie.

aunt-debbie

S.R.M.

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Stark.

Raving.

Mad.

Stark Raving Mad: informal, meaning completely insane.

Yes, I am going stark raving mad. I know. I signed up for this. Dad will be 88 years old in February of 2025. I get it. I expected things would be a bit nuts as he got older but holy bat shit, Robin! 

Some days are better than others. Some days there are no issues at all. Today? Ugh. Today is one of those days where you just want to pull your damn hair out and scream. 

It started first thing this morning. I just woke up and I saw on my weather app that we are supposed to have thunderstorms on Tuesday. I told Dad that I hope I don’t lose our internet/wifi (we have a satellite phone) because I am expecting an important phone call from the SSA regarding my SSI benefit. I’d just hate to have to call them back – you know how it is. They leave you on hold for 40 minutes before they actually get to you and then they end up transferring your call to another department, and so on. Anyway, Dad said he hoped for no storms as well because he might miss his call from the Husqvarna folks regarding his mower. They are supposed to call before they come out to pick it up for repairs. I reminded Dad of what he told me last week. He said that he told them if they can’t get ahold of us then to just come pick it up. He said he never told me that. He told me what they said about calling before coming. I told him that yes, he told me that but he also told me that he told them if they couldn’t get ahold of us then to just come pick it up. He argued with me until I just dropped it. I try not to get that “I’m right and you’re wrong” attitude because there have been times that I have been wrong, but he always does this to me about so many things! I can tell him he already saw a certain movie and he’ll argue that he didn’t and swear up and down that he did not. He actually gets pissed off! So, I just let him watch the damn movie over again. No big deal but then about 30 minutes into the damn movie he tells me that I was right. He did see that movie afterall. Ugh.

Anyway, after lunch we had the same discussion we had last week. Dad had an appointment with his Cardiologist who happens to be Japanese with an accent that is hard to understand unless you concentrate very hard. When Dad came out from his appointment, he told me that the doctor wants him to take acidophilus to help lower his blood pressure. I’m look at him dumbfounded and I tell him that can’t be right because acidophilus is a probiotic and it’s for your gut. Good grief. He argued with me. It was listed on his printout. The next thing on the printout was Amlodapine (sp?) which he already takes so then we assumed that the doctor was just going to give him another script to take another dose at a different time during the day. But there was no explanation on the printout and Dad said the doctor didn’t say anything about that. I’m sure this doctor is a good one but there’s always so much confusion – and I’m not sure if it’s the doctor’s accent, or my Dad, or both.

A day after his appointment, Dad gets an email from Humana telling him that his new script for Isosorbide Mononitrate ER was being processed. Why the fuck didn’t the Cardiologist’s office put that on the printout like they did the acidophilus? You’d think anything new would be put on the list with any new instructions but I guess that’s just too much to ask. We had both forgotten about the Isosorbide Mononitrate ER today, but eventually I remembered and then he argued that he never got anything from Humana about any new medication! Holy balls. Anyway, we got it all straightened out but what’s next? 

My brain is exhausted all the time. I not only have to deal with my pain and mobility issues, which are constantly in my brain, right there (pointing to my forehead) not letting me forget, as if I could, but I have to keep up with Dad and his meds and his this, that, and the other thing. And he wonders why I stay up until 1am every night. I need those hours (3 to be exact) after he goes to bed, so that I can relax, recharge, and dump all of the shit from my brain into the atmosphere. Lol. Otherwise, I won’t sleep. During those hours I don’t have to worry about him because he’s in bed. I don’t have to be on high alert. He has a pee can in his room so he doesn’t get out of bed. I don’t have to worry about him falling down or bumping his head or spilling something…or some…thing… 

Wish me luck!