Category Archives: Random Memories

Reliving A Nightmare

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Last night, I dreamed of my mom who was killed in a car accident in August 1992. She had been drinking and popping prescription pain relievers. She was not wearing a seat belt and was thrown from the vehicle. In my dream, she was alive and I had the opportunity to stop her from not wearing her seat belt. Did she listen? No. She didn’t like anyone telling her what to do or what not to do. I woke up feeling that same pain and sadness as I did almost 19 years ago.

When my parents were still married, many times she called my Dad a “know-it-all.” She resented the fact that my father was a college graduate and she barely finished the 9th grade. Many times, I was also a “know-it-all.” There was aways a conflict brewing in our household. She always took the opposite stance on any subject, regardless.

I understand completely not liking being told what to do; I don’t like it either. But common sense steps in and takes over. Common sense tells me to wear a seat belt. I hope common sense tells my grown children to wear a seat belt. I raised them to be responsible, self-reliant human beings. I hope they understand that wearing a seat belt can not only save their lives but also ensure that their children have a mother/father in their lives.

Although my mother and I butted heads and were often at odds, I still wish she were here. If she had just worn that seat belt she would be enjoying her many grandchildren and her 2 beautiful great-grandchildren today. She was 50 years old the year she died and would now be nearing 70. It would be wonderful to have a mom to talk to about personal things or just to have a little girl talk. Of course, that would be in a perfect world because mom was so argumentative that our girl talk would have turned into a cat fight!

I still wish she were here…..

Random Memory….

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When I was a kid, it was a simpler time. We didn’t have VCRs, DVD players, CDs or DVDs. We didn’t have cell phones; just the old fashioned kind with a cord. We didn’t have satellite dishes, satellite radio or flat screen TVs. We had a tube-bearing color TV with a few basic channels and if we were lucky our parents got cable. We didn’t have microwaves or computers. We didn’t have MP3 Players; just radios & record players that played LPs & 45s. We didn’t have digital cameras; just the kind with a roll of film that had to be developed at the store. If we didn’t have a flash bulb we’d have to make sure our pictures were taken outside. I could go on….but I won’t because all of you old enough to remember these times knows exactly what I mean by ‘simpler times.’

In this ‘simpler time’ we had to find something constructive to do or our parents would make us clean our rooms or clean out the garage. My sisters and I chose to keep busy outside riding our bikes or walking around the block over and over again. (This was back when it was safe to walk around the block without an adult.) We had a pool to play in and a swing set in our back yard. We spent countless hours playing house, school or doctor, or tormenting our neighbor.

Our neighbors were very nice people.  They were a couple about the age of my parents, with 3 kids. The 2 youngest girls were around my sisters’ ages and the oldest boy was my age. I remember when my parents told us we were moving next door to them. I was horrified! I couldn’t imagine living next door to Michael Victor and what would my classmates think – what would they say? Oh, how I prayed no one would find out!

We always pretended to hate each other, in school and at home, but we always had fun. We had water balloon fights and my sisters, his sisters and I chased Michael all over the neighborhood and he chased us too. We spent a lot of time conspiring against him & trying to sneak up behind him with a big ol’ water balloon. Sometimes, we caught him by surprise but usually he was one step ahead of us! He always got even! We had tons of fun – I guess I can’t speak for Michael, but I remember those summers most fondly and I always wonder where Michael went to and what he’s doing these days.

I recently found one of his sisters on Facebook so I’m hoping contact with Michael will eventually follow.

Oh, how I wish for simpler times again… Those were the days……

A Random Memory

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When I was living in California there was a commercial made by a local used car salesman. His name was Cal Worthington. His commercials were low budget and a favorite of my daughter’s when she was about 4 or 5.

My memory is fading a bit on the lyrics but they were different every time except for the part that repeated at the end “Go see Cal, Go see Cal, Go see Cal.” Every commercial, ol’ Cal Worthington would have a different animal. The introduction was “Here’s Cal Worthington and his dog Spot.” Spot would be a bear, a horse, a tiger, a monkey…anything he could get he’d use in his commercials. One time he had a hippo. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my daughter thought he was saying “horsey cow” when he was actually saying “Go see Cal” and this misunderstanding led to something quite amusing!

When I found out about her little misunderstanding we were at the zoo. The hippo was very visible; you could really get a good look at how big this animal really is. To our surprise, my daughter bursts out “Lookie, horsey cow, horsey cow, horsey cow!” At that moment I knew because she was repeating the words in the same manner as the words in the song. We all laughed our butts off that day!

Kids. Gotta love ’em.

Do You Remember The Excitement?

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Do you remember your very first apartment? Do you remember how you felt when you first moved out of your parents’ home and into your own place? I do. I was so happy! I was excited to be able to start living my life. I was thrilled to have a place to call my own. It was so awesome to be able to clean my house when I wanted to clean it, wash dishes when I felt like it, do laundry on my schedule, etc. I could eat when I wanted, cook when I wanted and shop for the groceries I wanted to buy. I could arrange my furniture in my living room just the way I wanted to. I could decorate according to my tastes. I could do what I wanted, without consulting my mother or have her interfere. She still tried but it was my life now and I was happy to start living it!

That’s the feeling I want my daughter to experience. That’s how I want my son and his girlfriend to feel. I want that for them. The excitement, the thrill, the freedom.

For months now, I’ve had both children back home. My daughter and her son, now age 15 months, and my son, his girlfriend and their baby girl, who is now 10 months old…add to that my dad, 4 cats, 2 ferrets and an iguana, all under one roof. This house is very small and I’m not sure I’m going to make it! Don’t get me wrong. I love them all dearly. I will always worry about them no matter what.

They really do need a place of their own so they can live their own lives without me always being there to help them, clean up after them, guiding them. I need them to be independent. I need them to be free.

I need my life back! I need to feel excited about cleaning my house again. I need to feel free to do “my own thing” again. Is that selfish? It feels that way sometimes but then other times I feel like “Hey, I deserve to live my life now. I’ve been busy taking care of them for a long time. I feel like now it’s my turn.” Is that so wrong?

Memories & Getting Old

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Last night, my father and I had a conversation about the longevity of many of our ancestors on his side of the family. A great, great aunt had lived to be 110 years old and to this day, credit is given to the natural spring that fed her property. My great, great grandmother lived to be in her 90’s and had never smoked, drank or swore a day in her life, so she said. Of course, she believed she got pregnant from kissing a boy and that you could get pregnant from swimming in a public pool too.

During the conversation, we were trying to remember what year my grandmother and grandfather died. I can’t remember the years exactly, but I can remember the skirt I wore to my grandmother’s funeral and that it was around the time I graduated from high school. I remember that I was pregnant with S.R. at my grandfather’s funeral, which was 1987. I can remember going to see my great grandmother in a nursing home the same year and that I wanted her to see S.R. when she was born. But Gramma never made it. She passed away without ever meeting her great, great grandbaby.

Our conversation made twists and turns, as most random conversations do. We ended up talking about how awesome it would be to live to be in our 100’s because we could tell some really tall tales! Everyone would be interested, except of course our great grandchildren, who would have better things to do. No one would dispute our stories because they weren’t around back then! Many of them would just say we were a french fry short of a happy meal.

Then something occurred to me.

If I live to be in my 100’s, would I even remember anything about my life? Would I remember enough to tell any kind of story at all? I’m 46 years old now, and I have a hard time remembering what we had for dinner last night! Odd how I can remember the skirt I wore to a funeral over 20 years ago but can’t even remember I have a load of clothes in the washer!

It has suddenly become very scary to grow old. I can’t imagine not having my memories. What about the memories of my children as they grew up, the good times, bad times and the memories of family and friends? What about the memories I will have of my grandson D.M.? My memories are sacred to me. What happens when I’m dead and gone? My memories will be gone too.

It’s clear to me that I must write everything down! I have to put all of my memories into written form so that my children and grandchildren have something to remember me by! I wish I would have kept up my childhood diary! Just think of the memories that would be in those!

So now, I have yet another thing on my To Do List. So many things left to do and not enough time to do them!