Grandma's girl

Daughter,

You were never meant to read my blog at ten years old.

You were to find a hard copy in my possessions after I died. You were suppose to be a grown woman long gone from home when you discovered it.

I never wrote it thinking, my ten year old daughter would be reading my words.

I didn't fathom what affect it would have on you.

It tainted your relationship with your grandma., and for that I am truly sorry.

You were only three when she started having the strokes. Started having memory issues from them. She started forgetting around this time. Her life and memories fading at a rapid pace.

She loved you little one.  Coming over to the house and lavishing all her thrift store treasures on you. You loved to play with her.

Before Dad and I had kids we talked about how old I was. We both discussed how that any children we had might have there own children cheated out of having me as there grandma because of my age.

Grandma's are important.

 It didn't occur to me that my own children would get  jipped in the grandma department.

Grandma Ginny loved you too. You were six when she died.

It guts me you have no memories of her.

You missed out on such a wonderful woman. Kind and gently like her son, your father.

She made you two dresses. Hold on to them.

they are tangible little reminders she loved you.  Don't worry she would eventually get your named spelled right.

You have no memories of grandma Penny either. well none of your own, you have mine,  from reading my blog. Which are tainted.



You still have Jonny the little black cat? remember picking him out of grandma's toys?

guess you do remember.

Grandma Penny loved to thrift store shop. Like a crow she collected all sorts of goodies and brought them home. When we would stop by to visit she delighted in having you pick out goodies to take home. Your big ornate silver cross came from her too. Star city was from her too.

I had a different relationship with her. She had a good relationship with you. Don't hold onto my blog memories of her. She was a mother. Mothers and daughters don't always get along. She had a nice relationship with you, there was no pressure to raise you, she could just love and play with you.

She only remembers Grandpa now days. She has what is known as vascular dementia.

I wish she could remember you too.  You both have forgotten each other. Which makes me sad.

Grandma's are important.

And you had two of the best, even if you were too young to remember.

heck, you had a beautiful great-grandma too who loved you also.

and you have been blessed with a new grandma too. One you can reach out too and get to know.

...and what do you know...she's a writer just like you!

Next time we can made the drive, first priority is to take a picture of you and her.  I don't have enough pictures of you with your grandma's. I want to fix that lackingness.

Love,

Mama

little things in life

Like reeeaaally little things.

like virus's and germs.

My minds been thinking lately. Cause it's got some time on its hands.

I am appropriately freaked out about this latest pandemic.  It's coming for me (elderly/compromised immune system/healthcare worker)

But them it makes me want to ask questions...how many of those that have died had flu shots? Multiple flu shots over the years and did they have the pneumo-vaccine? Or did none of them have vaccines?

Cause well the scientist in me has questions. I naturally want to dig deeper and do massive research.

Could the reason it's hitting the elderly hardest is because they have had the polo vaccine done with weaken virus vs the inactivated virus?

I dunno, I live with a immune system that doesn't play well with other and is attacking it own host....which is me.

I grew up outside. Playing in dirt, creek water and grass. I have eaten all sorts of plants, drank mud puddle water, unfiltered creek water, consumed unwashed/unsprayed wild fruit. Licked more poles then I care to admit.

Cheated death right off the bat being born with my umbilical cord wrapped twice around my neck.
I licked all my mosquito bites after I scratched them till they bled.

Hunted and killed wild beasts with my girl scout pocket knife.

I've sawed down redwood trees with a rusty hand saw and told its fortunes in its rings....

I was once immortal.

but not so much anymore.

I flew too close to the sun and its melted the wax in my wings...and now I need help to do things like, get out of a chair.

While I may no longer be the bird actively building my family nest, I haven't gone far, I've just slipped into the sub role of  the dried and warped twigs that supports it and holds it together. My hatchlings are nearly ready to fly.

I will do my part in the long chain of life.

hold my place.

and hand off the baton when the next runner when they extend their hand.

Quarantined with mental issues (triggery?)

Breathe....

that seems to be the stock advice to give people who live with mental illness/issues in times of crisis.

I've lost count of how many times faced with my severe mental health symptoms, I was offered that advice.

Breathe....

Hell, I've given that advice my self.

It isn't about breathing...it's simply about starting.

You have to start somewhere.

Why not start with something you can control. Breathe.

I want to talk about the social distancing and quarantining and sheltering in place that is going on right now, and how that could impact those of us who live with mental illness/issues.

Even healed and well wrapped people can be ambushed with triggers in times like this. None of us have been through a pandemic with this sort of global response before.

We need to be aware of our responses and our pulse of our mental health.

I was doing fine and the grocery store picking up the weekly food until I came across the rice section and it was completely empty.

I was instantly triggered and the fear of being hungry again washed over me and altered the rest of my purchases.

I noticed later that all I wanted to do at the house was eat. Fill up my hump like a camel so I could survive if food got scarce.

Once triggered, my system went on high alert. All the talk of quarantining and social distancing brought up feeling of fear and abandonment.

Breaking my weekly routine of going to turn in cans further set me off. I don't like feeling trapped and held. And having to staying home certainty felt like that.

All the news shouting, "the elderly and immunocompromised are the most at risk", set my anxiety to new levels.

I am in the elderly range, I am on not one but TWO immune suppressant drugs. Plus I work in the health care field.

A much needed concert I had tickets too has been canceled. That opened up my bottomless pit of depression.

Loss of routine and daily mundane things has shook my mind up like a snow globe.

And that is just me. I am well wrapped and have a phenomenal support system.

There are many vulnerable young people who are now trapped at home with abusers. Many people who are dealing with mental illness without a sound support system. And the one thing they need to do is not be home, not be socially distancing.

I hope someone with the know how opens up an mental health app where people can simply call in and see a person, a real person. So if even isolated they can see some ones eyes and hear their voice.

Breathe...

So what can we control in all of this?

Limit your time watching the news to once a day for updates.

Drink water.

Open your curtains, don't isolate in the dark.

Go outside and be in the air....and your guessed it, breathe.

Get up each day and get dressed.

Exercise.  (Muscles are vindictive little bastards and like to hold memories and tension.)

Find some on line chat group to be a part of.

Get hooked on a you-tube series (my favorite right now is Unus Annus enjoying the daily episodes.)

SPEAK UP. If you need something speak up, Even if its a quick face book post to see if anyone "see's" you.

Start with the thing you can control. Be on the look out for the things that are known triggers to you.

Seek help with you are overwhelmed and in danger.

Stay alive.

A dangling carrot (triggery)

Last year I had a spell were the depression was bad. My pain was off the hook. I was drowning in toxic stress. I couldn't see the future.

No not like that.  

When my head gets bad I can't see a reason to go on. It makes the suicidal thoughts really bad. I could see no reason to get up, no reason to go on breathing. There was no end to the stress.

I had no dreams.

No forward momentum.

Nothing to live for.

and 

then ….BAM

From the darkness of the abyss a light was shined down to me.

A reason to go on living.

Two years ago I dragged my resistant then eleven year old daughter to DRUM TAO 2018.

She was pouting and questioning why I was making her go.

I told her, "Because your a writer, and writers have to feed their minds with all sorts of magical stuff. This is medicine for your soul. You don't know it but you need this."

At intermission I turned to her.

Her wide eyes met mine. "Mama you were so right I NEEDED THIS!!"

When this tour was announced money was incredibly tight and there was ZERO luxury spending.

So I killed myself working eleven days in a row to afford the tickets.

I gave up sleep and on the heels of a 10.5 hour shift stood in the line for 2 hours to buy ticket the day they became available.

We were blessed to get front row center seats. 

 And I hung them on the calendar.

The days I struggled to go on, 

the days I struggled to living in this rickety old body,

the days the madness was deafening

the days the stress was choking me

the days I wanted to give up living

I would hold on to that dangling carrot....Drum Tao. To once again go and get lost with my daughter in the drums....just a few hours of relief from my broken body and my damaged head. I need this.

With the virus stuff going on right now, they have canceled 4 weeks of performances at the theater.

Drum Tao...is on the other side of that 4 weeks. Threatening to be canceled, but not officially yet.

Literally I've been living for this.

Now the depression is rolling hard in my head. No carrot is at the end of my stick. It has been jerked away. 

Only thing before me is endless physical pain. 

And that is no motivation to go on.

There is a world of people who have had there lives and plans and dangling carrots ripped away from then as a result of this pandemic.

I feel you man. 

I'm sorry for all of us.

Hang in there, it will take time to grow a new carrot.

Three squares

So I was at Costco today.

No, not stocking up for covid-19. It was coupon day and I have tax money.

There was no toilet paper to be seen.  To the point that where it belonged was now over stocked with water flats they were limiting people to two a piece.

It made me think...are you telling me that everyone has burned through the stock piles they amassed during Y2K all ready?  I though for sure that supply would last at least until 2025.

I belong to an elite group pf people who are known as the THREE-ERS.

Well a group that consists of my father, and my siblings.

 One summer my mother declared, that all us kids were allowed to wipe with, was three squares.

I  questioned her wisdom of this seemingly nonsensical request at the time.

But now as a bill paying adult, I can see the monetary need of trimming the TP usage for a family of 8 from 4 rolls a day down to 1 roll every other day.

I and the other THREE-ERS quickly mastered the skill of wiping with one...two...three squares.

Truth be known, I can do it in two squares. One, if I fold the square into toilet paper origami.

Also as member of the Crick Indian tribe, I know it possible to use no squares to wipe with. LOL.

Who knew this lesson from my mother would ever come in handy. Did she know she was the Nostradamus of hygiene?

So ya'll go ahead and horde up all the TP. I'm good here.


Those that want lessons....they're available for 4 easy payments of $19.95.