Your Past May Not Be What You Thought It Was

My heart is so heavy right now. It's no secret that I used to spend my entire summer vacations as a kid at my grandparents'. They lived on 80 acres of pure farmland. I was spoiled to a degree, for sure, but I was always expected to "stay in line". That meant that I was to help with dishes, mowing, making beds, etc. It's what EVERY kid my age did back then. We didn't know entitlement. We knew DISCIPLINE. As much as you wouldn't think it would be a good time, it sure was, for the most part. I was so soooo blessed to have been able to do that. My grandfather died when I was 18 in 1990. It was the first real close death I experienced and since then, I've had a number of deaths I've had to deal with. Probably one of the most impactful death I had to experience was 8 years ago. That was my grandmother. She was 89. When she was in ICU (this is another long story from hell), I never left her side unless I had to eat or get sleep. I held her hand (she was non-responsive) and I talked to her and recited so many memories I had. My grandma got my ears pierced when I was maybe 4th grade. We always went to this one bakery (it was the best) for bread. We would frequent the Ben Franklin Dime Store and go to lunch after. One summer, my grandma gave me the money from her garage sale so I could buy my very first 10 speed bike. That was a HUGE deal as a kid back in the 80s.



I rode tractors with my grandfather, rode on hay wagons when it was time to bale hay...and perhaps my favorite was to walk the woods at the end of the 80 acres to check fences (cattle used to go into the woods). Every Sunday, my grandma, grandpa, and I would take a drive somewhere. It could be 10 miles down the road or 45 minutes down the rode...we always went somewhere. Usually, that "somewhere" had an ice cream joint like Dairy Queen. Of COURSE, my grandpa insisted on stopping. He was always great like that! Summer nights were filled with the sounds of Detroit Tigers baseball games on TV with the TV turned out towards the screened in porch. I'd hear the baseball game and the bug zapper simultaneously. It really didn't get any better than that.

It was no wonder that I had this overwhelming need to make sure I got everything out of that house when my grandma died. I had to have the cuckcoo clock that always ticked 24 hours a day (It was my great-great aunt's). I had to have ALL the old pictures. I took her Mix Master, the Blue Ridge dishes, her jewelry, the afghan that her neighbor made before I was born (but always used it as a kid). I had to have the stupid knick knacks she had, her wedding pictures, the penny kettle on top of the refrigerator, the old lock box (which turned out to be a gold mine of original civil war papers of my great-great grandfather). If it reminded me of my childhood, I took it. In hindsight, I wish I would've taken more. I hold hard and fast to the things I love the most.

Then tonight. My parents went out of town to a bed and breakfast for Thanksgiving. They've done this for the past few years despite my protests. It hurts to see them leave. But tonight. Tonight, my husband told me he talked with my mother early Thursday morning. My husband told me she told my mother we invited my uncle over for dinner (he has late-onset schizophrenia and is highly odd, but doing much better since he has started working a job). Apparently, my mother was happy we were doing that. But then...my mother told him WHY she leaves. Supposedly, she didn't have a great childhood. Apparently, my grandmother could be very mean and I "have no idea what went on". This was extremely overwhelming to hear. I wanted to bawl my eyes out. I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to even react. My grandmother was mean? I don't know that I've seen my grandmother exactly "mean" when I lived there all summer. My grandma would sometimes tease me about my weight in a "joking" way. She would even say to me (and in a more negative tone), "You look just like your dad". That one probably impacted me the most. My biological dad was a drunken dead-beat. I knew him since I was maybe 10, but he was mostly in and out of my life. Being told I look just like him sent me the message that it wasn't a good thing so I truly felt shitty. Still, it wasn't enough for me to hate my grandma...it wasn't enough for me to not be at her side in ICU (my mother wasn't...but I think that was mostly because she couldn't emotionally handle it). It wasn't enough for me to leave her own cherished possessions inside a house being sold. It wasn't enough for me to not love her. ...and I did....and I did hard.

I am not sure how to handle this. I am so sad and I am scared that knowing may tarnish the way I feel about my grandparents. It would change EVERYTHING that I loved dearly. I'd have to take them off my lock screen and background. Maybe I wouldn't feel like I would have to if I actually knew what all of this meant. But what if id DID mean that?? I'm sad. I am soooo sad over this. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it IS something. Maybe.

I Love a Schizophrenic

My mother's side of the family wasn't terribly affectionate. I really never noticed this as a kid because I always got hugs and kisses as most kids do. It's no surprise that my mother isn't that affectionate (never has been...) and my uncle (her brother) NEVER has been that I recall. My uncle also has late on-set Schizophrenia (started in his 40s, maybe). Although he hasn't formally been diagnosed (and obviously not medicated), it is very obvious that it is a paranoid type as he talks about "the voices" and "THEY did this". He rarely could hold an actual conversation up until he started working in the real world a few years ago. Since having more contact with other people, he's been more "normal", so to speak, but today, he came over for dinner. My parents went to out of town for Thanksgiving. They love going to this amazing bed and breakfast so it was just us here (my kids, my husband, and me). We invited my uncle over. He was very talkative which I just loved seeing. He watched football with my husband and even talked with my kids (12 and 15). My kids, like all siblings, have their love/hate moments and today, it was a hate moment. They bicker back and forth and take stabs at each other until they are blue in the face. I had to put my foot down and threaten to take their electronics away. They stopped, but NOTHING..and I mean NOTHING...could prepare me for what I witnessed next. My uncle bent down to my son's level (he was sitting in a chair) and put a hand on his back. He said, "You only have one sister....and one day you are going to love her as much as I love mine." Mic drop. I think my heart stopped for a moment.

Re-Do Shuffle

(11/13/2019 (So, I thought I would re-do this one to maybe update the random shuffle) >>>Day one consists of randomly shuffling tunes on my iphone up to 10...and what I feel about them. ALWAYS up for talking about music!! :)

1. If I'm Not in Love With You-Faith Hill. OK..seriously. Why is this on my phone? I am not a fan of her. Time to get rid of it. Kathy Troccoli's version is much better (and older).

2. If You Leave by OMD. Classic 80s tune from the movie Pretty in Pink. Two of my teachers took a couple of us to see the movie one Saturday. It was awesome!!

3. Days Are Numbers by The Allan Parsons Project. Yea, remember this one? It isn't one you hear anymore ANYWHERE. I liked it when it was current and then one summer (1987), I went to Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp. This was back when they had tents and if you didn't get your app in early enough, you were stuck in the tents. In complete hindsight, the tents were THE BEST. They were sturdy with actual floors. Anyway...I was in my tent one day and I heard a girl next to our tent playing this on her clarinet. She had me at Alan Parsons Project and she became my best friend at camp.

4. Somewhere in the Night by Barry Manilow. So, let's be honest here. Being a Manilow fan in today's world is NOT common unless you are a bit older. When I was 6 (1978), I LOVED playing with the record player and I put my mother's "Greatest Hits" album by Barry on that record player FREQUENTLY. If you are familiar with this album, then you know there is a GREAT picture of him in the middle of the album (it opens like a book). As a 6 year old, I absolutely DID kiss that picture!!! Sorry, not sorry! :)


5. I'm So Excited by The Pointer Sisters. This became a favorite when I started working for CK105 in Flint. The night before my first day, I cranked this tune. To this day, it reminds me of my first day at that station. Great times!


6. Cold As Ice by Foreigner. We all know Foreigner is a GREAT band! This song became a favorite in 1987 when I was at Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp. I was not placed in a cabin, but in their tents. The tents weren't like the ones you would go camping in. They were VERY roomy and made with a very, very, heavy canvas. The wooden floor was thick and sat up off the ground. It was very roomy and we never had problems with being too hot (like the cabins), weren't as filthy as the cabins...it was a COMPLETE blast! Anyway, one morning after we our morning rehearsal, my friend and I had headed back to our tent to get a short nap in before we had to go to our next class. My little clock radio alarm went off when we had to get up and this song was the one that was playing. We laughed and laughed because, that morning, it WAS VERY cold for July!!! Hey..we were 9th graders. We were easily entertained.


7. Hold Me Til The Morning Comes by Paul Anka. You know how you hear music when you are in a grocery store or dept store or the like?? This is where I heard this song for the first time. I was working in a deli at a grocery store when I was like 20 years old. That is how I became aware of this tune and quite honestly, I don't know that I've heard it anywhere else other than there (or on a SiriusXM channel). I loved this instantly! Peter Cetera's background vocals truly made this one even more awesome. Call me a geek. This isn't the only song I've come to know and love courtesy of the overhead music in that store! Gloria Estefan's "I See Your Smile" was another that became a fave.


8. What Kind Of Man Would I Be by Chicago. Chicago is one of my all-time favorites! I saw them in concert 16 years ago and although they were old men now, they were absolutely AMAZING. A big draw is their use of actual band instruments...trumpet, trombone, etc. This one became a favorite when I was going out with a particular person when I was in high school. I've got to say that he was probably my very first love. Although I never see him anymore nor have I talked to him in maybe 18 years (and that was brief), he will always have a special place in my memories.




9. Sweet Life by Paul Davis. It's an old song, but it became a MUST when my daughter turned one. I put together a slideshow of her through the first year and this was one of the songs I had in the background of that slideshow. The lyrics are just too close to home and it will ALWAYS remind me of her.


10. Jump by Kris Kross. 1992!! I swear the 90s were full of some amazing music! I recall one day I was sitting in the car when my mother ran into a store. I was 20 years old. It was a beautiful sunny day and I had the window completely down with this one cranked. I looked up and about 15 feet away from me was a store employee gathering shopping carts from the parking lot. This kid started dancing in a hip hop way and singing along with the music like I was doing!! LOL I want to be 20 again!!

Don't Know What You've Got 'Til It's Gone....

In my mid 20s, I decided to go back to school for law-enforcement. Radio wasn't the most stable industry to be in at the time and I had taken an interest in criminal justice. While in school for it, I took a paid "internship" a local department and that experience was completely priceless. I ended up transferring somewhere in a different city after about a year and had to leave that department.

I moved back to the area a few years later and reconnected with one officer I worked with. She was a great mentor and a very caring friend and our kids played together. Life was good. Being a police officer, my friend was a strong person and didn't hesitate to say what was on her mind. That was a factor in distancing myself around 2013. It is no secret I tend to cut people out of my life for something as stupid as spilled milk and that is what I did here. My husband had left his Facebook page open and I saw where she had sent him a message about my "parenting" skills. It's not exactly spilled milk, but I didn't even take the time to question it. I was done.

I am now 47 years old, still married, and my kids are in middle and high school. I have also been diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis so when I am not hauling my kids around from place to place, I am home. One of the things I have started to keep on is the obituaries. Pretty depressing, isn't it? The older I get, the more death I see. This last week, I missed a few days of obituaries because of some schedules being off, but one day, I sat down to catch up (damn, morbid am I?). I scrolled through and suddenly, I felt a knife go through my heart. I stopped breathing. I had to re-read it again and again. My friend. My friend that was a mentor in law-enforcement. My friend whose kids played with mine. My friend I cut out of my life.

I sent it to my husband who was also in disbelief. Then, he sent me a screenshot of a message she sent him 2 years ago. She asked about me. She specifically asked about me. Me...the person who cut her out 4 years prior.

I bawled. I bawled and bawled. It was at that moment I realized I didn't hate her at all. I LOVE HER and I MISSED HER. I bawled some more.

A short time before I cut her, I cut another friend for doing, pretty much, the same thing that friend 1 did. The thought of friend 2 dying was just wayyyy too much for me. That night, I sent a private message on FB to her. She was so receptive to someone who didn't deserve a chance: me. We are friends again.

Yesterday was friend 1's funeral. I thought I had the crying done until I walked into this school where the funeral was. There was a couple of people at the entry door and one was holding a box of Kleenex. I assumed she was there to help others get seated, etc and the Kleenex was for anyone who needs them so I didn't hesitate to take 3-4 of them as I started bawling again. In hindsight, she could've just been a person there for the funeral and the box was hers....and I just helped myself. Oh well. If it was a personal box, I hope she understands.

As I walked to the back seating (it was a full house) slobbering away, I saw a police officer in uniform sitting alone. Then I saw his patch (department) and realized who it was. It was another PO that used to be at the dept I was a cadet at. This PO was probably one of the best PO's I have ever had the privilege of working with. I hadn't seen him in 20 years and seeing him brought a sense of "relief", so to speak. Comfort in numbers? He didn't recognize me, but I told him who I was, he got right up and hugged me. I cannot even BEGIN to tell you what that meant to me. I am a cold-hearted bitch on the outside, but inside, I love..and I love with all my being. This man was of a a "group" of POs that kind of hung together. I had been on many outings with the group...barhopping, etc. They were tight, amazing people, and a group I truly admired from a professional standpoint and a personal standpoint. That PO I saw sitting at the funeral said, "I saw you walking in and I thought, "I hope she doesn't sit next to me because she is already crying!"" I laughed and took a seat with the friend I went with and my daughter behind him. Then I saw 2 more people walk in and headed towards the back where we were. It was another PO I worked with and his wife (whom I was also friends with back in the day). I hadn't seen them for like 17 years. They, as well, didn't recognize me but the PO didn't hesitate to hug me when he saw me. During the funeral, I heard him crying. I couldn't stop crying. Even my daughter, who was only like 7 when she saw the deceased last, was bawling. It was such an incredibly sad event. We saw 2 others that worked for the dept that I knew. It may seem strange to say, but there as a lot of comfort in that. And then we had to go home.

I had so much emptiness after leaving the funeral. Even at home that night, I still felt....empty. I was sad and I didn't feel "complete". I chalked it up to being extremely tired (it was a very early day) and having an emotionally exhausted day. And then, even after I slept 12 hours, I woke up still empty. Still sad and really wanting to see the people I saw yesterday again. I missed them, too...I miss my job in law-enforcement. I walked away from it in 2000 because of a bad experience (really bad dept) when I moved away. I went back to radio broadcasting and walked away from that when my daughter was born. I have isolated myself partly by choice and partly by circumstance and I hate it. What I wouldn't give for a complete redo with so many things.

I took so much away from the minister's sermon yesterday not only about life, but about my friend. I have started to make some changes in my life to help control my RA...those changes, unexpectedly, have led to other positive results. Between that and the sermon yesterday, I am motivated to live the best life I can. To be the best person I can. The RA treatment doesn't make me immune to some other impacts of RA, but I want to do the best I can do under the circumstances. My friend left a huge mark on this Earth....I want to do that, as well...just as my friend did.
Don't know what you've got, til it's gone.

Date unknown, other people in picture unknown, LEO is my friend. Picture courtesy of MTPD