Blogs; the new millenniums version of therapy

I've been thinking about my grandfather a lot for the past couple of weeks. First it was his birthday on August 11 (he would have been 93) and then I read a couple of other people's blogs about family members having Alzheimer's (which he had). I started really thinking about that time of his life when his doctor diagnosed him as probably having it and then him progressing to the point that it was so obvious that he had it. I told my mom about the blogs that mentioned Alzheimer's and how I had given some advice to one person about things they could do to help their grandfather. I told my mom how I was thinking about posting about it myself and she was surprised. She said why would I want to share something so personal and put it out there for just anyone to see. I think that's actually the appeal of it all. We all have these thoughts in our heads and I think we all think deep and meaningful stuff much, much more often than anyone would ever know because we don't share it with anyone. How often do we have "deep and meaningful" conversations with our friends and family? I mean do you just call up your friend and say "Hey, wanna talk about all of the stuff I had to deal with when I lived with my grandfather and he had Alzheimer's?" A blog is somewhere you can go and spill your guts on any subject at all. It doesn't have to be relevant to a damn thing. And people can read it and comment or read it and you never even knew they were there. Sometimes people you don't even know come read your stuff and comment. And it all makes you feel so great because you know that there are people out there who are hearing you and responding to you. It's a way for the world to seem so much smaller and you can connect with people everywhere.

I Love the Rain

I really do. I know that some people get depressed or sad when it's wet and dreary outside, but I just love it when it rains. This feeling of absolute peace comes over me when it starts to fall. I love the smell in the air before it starts, and you can tell that it's coming. I love the sound of it - the way the whole world seems quieter. I love to be in the rain. To stand in it and let it fall on me. Being in a car when it rains is great. I can open the car window and watch the rain fall all over my arm and hand. Or sit in a parked car and watch the rain fall on the windshield and it feels like I'm in a cave and no one can see me.

Then there's the powerful storms. When you can see the storm brewing and the wind starts blowing and you can see the lightening coming and hear the thunder in the distance before it gets to you. The anticipation is tremendous and exciting. Even though it can get scary and you hope that your house is strong enough to make it through and you hope some old tree doesn't fall over on you it's absolutely awesome.

Whenever it rains I just want to sit and watch it. I could literally watch it all day long. The ideal day for me - the kind of day that would totally recharge me and make my stress go away and make me feel like everything was right in the world - would be a day when there was a steady heavy rain all day long. When I could sit on a porch or somewhere open but protected from the rain - able to see and hear and be close to it. When I had time to watch it fall and read a book and enjoy the quiet of it all.

Tears for Fears

So, I'm driving to the 7-11 this morning to pick up some Diet Coke for my parents who are coming over. The radio is on, as it always is, and the DJ starts his intro for the next two songs by saying they were both number one hits at this time of year - the first week of August. The first in 1990, the second in 1985. The first song comes on as I'm still driving and it's Mariah Carey's "Vision of Love". I'm singing along and thinking that 1990 still feels like the recent past to me. I thought about Mariah Carey and how hot and young she used to be and that she's 14 years older now. The next song started as I pulled up to the 7-11. Tears for Fears singing "Shout". Well, now, this song is 19 YEARS OLD!!!! I had one of those life-jolting moments as I sat in my van in an overcrowded convenience store parking lot listening to a song that I used to love when I was 15 years old. I closed my eyes and I could feel being 15 again. Where had all those years gone? It certainly didn't feel like that long ago. What would my 15-year-old self think of me now? I'm actually married to the guy I had a crush on back then. I gave him two sons. I'm sitting in a friggin mini-van for gods sake.

I look around at the bushes in front of me wondering if they were there 19 years ago. Even the ugly, smelly, green dumpster in the lot was probably built in the past 19 years. Did I appreciate being 15? Did I look around at the world back then thinking how cool it was to be so young? The funny thing is that, to some extent, I think the answer is yes. I remember being young like that and doing stuff like looking at the back of my hand and thinking that it was definitely a young person's hand. Some day it would look older, but right then it looked great.

As I continued to sit by myself in my van, a really scary thought crept into my head. Where would I be 19 years from now? What would I be thinking when I was 53 and Tears for Fears came on the radio? What would my life be like? Would I think about being 34 and almost crying in a stupid parking lot? Would I still be able to close my eyes and feel what it was like to be 15? I know that I would remember being 34 and that I would hope I appreciated it while I was there.

I try to think about enjoying the now of life. And I try to recognize moments that happen now that will turn into memories I think about later. Like my last post where I worry about my son turning into a teenager and I wish I could go back to the days when he was little. The day will come when I'll look longingly back at the summer before he turned 10 and hope that I recognized it for what it was and that I enjoyed it while I had it.

When I look at the back of my hand now, it certainly looks older. It has lines that weren't there when "Shout" was first hitting the airwaves. There's even an age spot (holy shit, can you believe it?) on one of them. But I am trying to appreciate being 34 and being so young.

A Teenager Looms on the Horizon

My oldest son, Sean, is almost 10. Well, OK, he'll be 10 at the end of November, but it feels really soon to me. He's a great kid. He has lots of friends, he does well in school, he loves to read and play basketball and baseball and Playstation. Don't get me wrong - he's not perfect. He gets on his little brother's case ALL THE TIME to the point of driving me and my husband BONKERS! But this post is to tell you about how I can actually see glimpses of the teenager inside him that will be here shortly. Sometimes it's just the way he looks. He's definitely not just a little boy anymore and when I look at him I see hints of the mature face he'll have someday. He talks all the time about the day that he'll be taller than me (not that that would be an especially great feat since I'm only 5'4") and that day will probably happen in the next 2-3 years.

But another way I can see that approaching teenager version of my beloved son is in his behavior. Every once in a while he'll throw out some little comment or attitude or something and I think "No, not yet!" An example: We're at the boardwalk/arcade place at the beach last week and, once again, Sean is giving his brother a hard time. My husband, Carlos, breaks out into a full blown lecture. You have to understand how funny I find this lecturing because one thing both my husband and his brother have always complained about their father was that he would lecture them about everything. He would just go on and on and on. Now here's my husband doing the exact same thing. And he did go on and on to Sean for far longer than the topic warranted - even I thought so. Now, like I said, he's a good kid and he sat there with his dad for the whole thing, but you had to see his face. I could tell that he was totally zoning and not really listening to a word and I couldn't help but think that I was going to be seeing a lot of this lecturing vs zoning thing over the next several years.

After the lecture it was about time for us to leave. Sean wanted us all to go for a little walk on the boardwalk before we left, but we really had to leave in like 5 minutes because of the parking meter and we were there with other people. Carlos was about to tell him no, but I said OK before he could since I felt bad about the lecturing. I told him that we could walk just to a sign a bit down the way and then we had to come back. Sean and I start off, but Sean won't walk with me. He walks like 2 steps behind me and it's really annoying. I remember the time he would want to hold my hand when we walked together. Or the way he would run ahead and then turn around with this big grin as I called playfully "Come back!" and he would run back and crash into me as hard as he could. I'm thinking those days are over and it makes me sad.

One time Sean said something to me that ripped out my heart. He was playing a game on our computer in the front room and I was watching something on TV in the living room. Sean got some kind of error message or whatever that he didn't know what to do with and he called for me to come help him. Well, I didn't hear him at first and, of course, he wouldn't get up to come get me - he just kept calling until I heard him. So, I finally hear him and come see what he needs me for. After I help him, he says something like "Sorry to inconvenience you." But he didn't say it with sarcasm, he said it like he really meant it. Like whatever he needed me for wasn't as important to me as whatever stupid thing I was watching on TV. I had to make him stop playing for a bit so I could tell him how much I loved him and how I always want to help him, etc. I probably went a little overboard, but I didn't want him to have doubts about me being there for him.

I'm trying really hard to cherish the rare times he still sits on my lap or when he tells me he loves me or wants to give me a kiss. All of these things used to happen so repetitively and with such regularity when he was little. So, those of you who still have the little ones, appreciate it while you got it because it changes all too soon.

A vacation after the vacation

I have returned from my lovely family trip to the beaches of New Jersey. We were rained-out at the beach for two of the days there, but that was OK with me. Going there every day for 6 or 7 days straight is a little too much for me to handle. All of the preparing the food to bring and getting the kids ready (dressed and lotioned) and trying to find a parking spot and lugging all of the crap we bring across the hot sand and setting it all up and then reversing it all again gets tedious. I know that we're lucky to be able to get away and do this every year, and we always have a great time, but by the end of the week I'm ready to go home.

Now I've started the daunting task of laundry. I hate laundry. I'm infamous for starting laundry and forgetting about it only to return to a washer full of semi-wet clothes that needs to be run through again to get rid of the mildew smell. I would love to have my washer and dryer somewhere on the main floor or upstairs. Part of what sucks about the laundry is lugging it up and down flights of stairs. But the worst part is putting it away. Once I finish washing the laundry, I usually dump it all on my bed to fold, put away, etc. Sometimes it piles up there in big piles of clean clothes and it gets to be bedtime before I get around to finishing the folding, putting away, etc. Then I just swipe it onto the floor on the side of the bed and deal with it in the morning. I know. I'm terrible at housekeeping.

It's now Thursday and we returned home on Monday afternoon and I still have laundry left to do and stuff to put away. At least I got the suitcases and the beach stuff back in the basement. I always feel like I need a vacation after my vacation just to get my life back in order again.

My First Blog Ever

What an interesting new world where I can just write what I am thinking and publish it on a web site for anyone to see.  Kinda like a diary, I suppose, but with a twist!  Here I am setting up my Blogger Page and looking over all of the settings and options and I am leaving on vacation tomorrow.  Have I packed a single thing yet?  No.  Is there laundry to do that has been calling to me all morning?  Yes.  Is the house a mess and needs to be cleaned (I HATE returning from vacation to a messy house)?  Yes.  This is typical of me.  As they say, if it wasn't for the last minute, I wouldn't get anything done.  It's not that I am irresponsible or am undependable.  On the contrary, I am very responsible and dependable and get done what needs to be done.  Motivation, however, eludes me until there is a time pressure that says "DO IT NOW".  When I know that a deadline for something is not imminent, I just put it off.  I never in my life had a school paper or assignment done days (let alone weeks) in advance, no matter how much time we had to complete the work.  If a paper was assigned and was due in a month, and that paper took me 3 days to complete, it was the last 3 days before the due date that all of the work got done.  And I was up to the wee hours on the last night typing it up.  But I always got it done and I always got good grades on my work.

So, I will finish this blog (what a cool word) and go dig out the suitcases from the basement and start the laundry and packing.  We're going to the beach for a week with family.  It's a long standing tradition.  I'll tell you all about it when I get back, if you're lucky (ha ha!).