Tag Archives: memories

Happy 4th, and PTSD

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I’m sitting here this morning, thankful that Dad got some sleep. He woke up at 9am, wondering if I had slept late. Nope. I was awake at 7am. Who the hell can sleep when the temperature is still in the 70s, and any movement causes droplets of sweat to form on your forehead?

Last July 4th, Dad fell and had a heat stroke. A heat stroke that wouldn’t have happened if the ambulance had been here sooner. My heart thumps hard and fast just thinking about it. Tears start to come. I thought I was going to lose him.

The first few days in the hospital were iffy. When they took him off the vent, he began to improve. I was more hopeful. Poor Dad didn’t know what was going on. When he spoke, no one could understand him. It was hard to see him in this state. I’m so thankful for family and friends who came to the hospital to see him, and to sit with me. Some cried with me, some shared memories with me, and some brought me food when I hadn’t eaten all day. The support was amazing.

A few weeks later, unnecessary family drama followed. Why someone would kick another person when they are at their very lowest point, I don’t know. I guess it says a lot more about them than it does about me. I was worried about how I was going to take care of Dad by myself, how I would be able to help my sister take care of him, and also how the hell I was going to get the new house done. I was consumed by thoughts and feelings that I can’t even share with you because it hurts to go back there. This is where the coping tools my therapist taught me years ago come in handy.

I’m glad Dad is here with me a year later. He’s 89 years young now, and I pray every year that he will reach his next birthday in February.

Happy Independence Day, my friends! Stay safe and, for goodness sake, watch your children so they don’t get hurt!

Thanks for reading!

Saying No To Holidays

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Someone asked me yesterday how Dad and I would spend the holidays. I said, “I don’t know,” but the truth is, I don’t care to celebrate at all. Screw the holidays. There’s no one to celebrate with. I refuse to celebrate with people who belittle me, judge me, think the worst of me, or steal my energy. It’s just Dad and me against the world, as always.

I thought things would be different this year. I thought we would be in the new house by now (it now looks like January or February) and that my sister would be here to help us. My sister is not coming back. My son is 15 miles away, but apparently, he doesn’t think enough of us to even check on us, by text, DM, or otherwise. My best friend is no longer my best friend, so we won’t even be having the “friendsgiving” we had talked about having every year.

I loved the holidays when my kids were little. The little things, like gifts they made in school, or watching the excitement on their faces as they opened their own gifts, were among the best things about the holidays. It was fun! One year, I even wrapped every single framed photo in the living room with colorful wrapping paper and bows to decorate the house! Imagine the kids’ surprise when they came home from school to see this! As they got older, the fun was gone.

These days, I despise the holidays. All of them. Every holiday brings back memories and brings on waves of grief and loss. This year for Christmas, the grandkids will get a little something from Dad and me. That is IF we have the money to do even that. Every penny seems to be going toward the new house, and that’s great IF we won’t have to spend another winter in this dilapidated dump we call home.

Emotions and Memories at Christmas Time

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I want to share with you something a friend of mine wrote and posted on Facebook. It’s something that really resonated with me. Holidays are a lonely and somewhat sad time for me and for my dad. I don’t expect things to be the same as they used to be but it’s sad that things are not what I had envisioned for us. Anyway, be thoughtful and kind to people during the holidays. 
 
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This time of year can be a whirlwind of emotions. For some, it’s a season of joy—family gathered together, no empty chairs, laughter filling the air, and the ability to give generously. For others, it’s a season marked by change, loss, or longing.
 
Maybe you’ve lost someone you love, and their absence feels heavier during these days. Perhaps a relationship you cherished has ended, or your children are grown and celebrating miles away. Life has a way of throwing us twists and turns, and Christmas often becomes a time when we feel the weight of what *used to be.*
 
It’s funny how we mark our lives with these memories—those magical Christmas mornings with little feet running to the tree or the quiet nights when everything just felt *right*. And while life changes, those memories remain. They remind us of love, of joy, of the beauty in what we’ve had and, hopefully, what is still to come.
 
If this Christmas looks different for you, know this: you are not alone. Whether your heart is full or a little heavy, take a moment to breathe, to reflect, and to hold onto the hope that brighter days are ahead.
 
Sending love to each of you this holiday season. May we all find a moment of peace, no matter where life has taken us. 
 
“Christmas isn’t just a season; it’s a mirror that reflects both the joy we hold and the love we miss, reminding us to cherish the moment we’re in while carrying hope for what’s to come.”
 
 
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Merry Christmas, friends! 

aunt-debbie

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.

My Little Tribble

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Remember Star Trek with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy? There was an episode called The Trouble With Tribbles (1967) that I thought was quite amusing as a kid.

tribbles

from Wikipedia

I don’t remember how old I was when I first saw the Tribbles episode. I do know that when I was in Junior High School and taking a sewing class I made my own little Tribble!

My little Tribble eventually became a cat toy. BobCat plays with it these days and bunny kicks the shit out of it. I really don’t know why I’ve hung onto it all these years!

My little Tribble doesn’t look anything like it used to. It used to have a nose, ears, and a tail, but now it just looks like a furry, round ball with eyes and a mouth! It’s rather funny and I won’t ever get rid of it because I’m attached to it now.

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My Poor Little Tribble