Loses

     Let me relate something that happened the other day.

     Yesterday and the day before were kinda ugly. Saturday started OK. I got over to the house to work on Lauren's room. I started doing my work, but after a minute I realized I needed to  go to the store for something. The bike died on the way.

     Trying to explain why the bike was not working is never an easy task. They do not accept it is not working and need details that are beyond my ability to explain. When I get into the technical stuff they get lost, maybe because I am not really sure what the real issue is. LOL.

     I went back to work on the basement. I accomplished a good bit of work down there. Yey! But the bike was still disabled.

     On Sunday morning I went back to the bike to get it going. I did a little research on the problem and felt confidant. Confidence like arrogance, in this case anyhow, is a false sense if security.

     The issues were more then a street side fix could deal with, so I began to make arrangements to get the bike to the house. It was time to get back to work on the basement. Five hours later I was tired and ready to go home. However, I needed to sit with the 'rents and talk a minute. Or I thought I should.

     We talked about the project. Then the issue of what to do about the bike came up.












     I will not quote the conversation here, but suffice it to say that I explained the situation clearly and what steps I planned to remedy it...Three times.

     After the fourth time I explained what was going to happen, I got the question, "Who is your daughters' boy friend?" I had hoped he could help me to move the bike to a safe place.

     I was too tired to suppress my frustration. I explained, one more time, the details of the problem and what I planned to do about it. Unfortunately my frustration came through and everyone on the room felt it.

     Now I feel really badly about my outburst.

     On the way home that night, I tried to deconstruct my feelings as inadequacy. Boy are there so many.

     I love my mother and have always admired her intelligence and her focus. To see her age  is difficult. Yet perhaps what I am seeing is the culmination of her lifelong tendency to question everything.

     She has always asked insightful questions, most of the time they could lead to a way of seeing an issue from a different point of view. Now however, her need to look out side-of-the box was getting in the way of her life.

     More importantly though, was my reaction to her need for detail. Even though I had given all of the data several times, she could not hold it in her fragile, yet fruitful brain.

     I lost my cool and took out some of my frustration on her. For this I feel tremendous guilt. But I took to it another level. Why did I react so strongly to her repeated questions?

      Well one reason was having to repeat the same info several times. There is no doubt that it is difficult to have to go back and reiterate the some information many times, especially when one has taken care to give every bit of information the first several times.

     There was more to it than that though. Fear. Fear of loosing her. And fear of my inability to rise above my petty weakness and weariness and inability to truly understand what this wonderful woman is going through.

     I cannot even imagine how she is dealing with her mental decline. For sure, she knows her ability to think things through is lessening. I have not ever been a mental giant, but to feel what little mental ability I have slip through my fingers never to be scooped up again from the beach of life, is a daunting thought, to say the least.

olc

Motivation-or the struggle to find it

     The other day I posted on FB, "I cannot even find motivation in my daughters eyes any more." There may have been some alcohol fuelling that statement, but I have found mind altering chemicals tend to augment, not create emotions.

     A good friend saw the post and expressed her concern. I told her that I was suffering from Diarrhea finger ... Just a bunch of shit flowing through my fingers onto the screen. She also suggested I might want to re-invent myself.

     Another friend suggested I spend more time writing. She said I might find my muse (not her words, but I took it that way).

     The best idea, and most undoable was to take a mini-vaca. Oh, that would be so nice, hop on The Grinner with only my camera and iPad...

     Well, the last one is most appealing because it encompasses the first two ideas and I get riding time! Unfortunately, the Grinner is broke down, and the daily grind will not allow me time to fix it.

     My friend Sheila, who is a writer/entertainer, had a great idea---write. All is takes is time and a little imagination. Well, I have the little imagination part down pat. Actually, I brought out an old story and restarted working it again, due to her suggestion. I plan on continuing it.

     About reinventing myself, you ask? I have tried that a few times and it never really works out well. Instead of evolving up, I seem to fall backward in the material world. Though my head, soul, or mind...whatever term you use to define ones' the essential being, has grown in very fulfilling ways.

     Fulfilling the material needs seems to get worse. The truth is, I have never really been finically solvent. But there was I time when I was able to pay all my debts and even have some left over for savings and A little fun.

     Nowadays, not so much.

     I just need to dig a little harder and find my muse---again.

olc

My View

     I saw someplace on Facebook some one saying something like, "You will never change a person's mind by posting on Facebook." Truer words may never have been said, or typed. Yet, we persist on posting all of our political views here. What is even worse, is some of the advertising, all of it political in nature, is taking over my feed! I cannot seem to find anything but, "Vote for me" on my feed any more. Where are the friend updates, and cute puppy videos, and silly fools doing stupid stuff? I joined FB to meet and be with friends, not be steered into a narrow political dogma!

     OK so as many of you have seen, I will repost politically relevant memes and even comment on them. Yep, I even embark in a conversation or two. One of my friends, we go way back to the bad-ol'-days, in particular will challenge me. It is stimulating and, sometimes I even question my beliefs --- a little.

     Our dialogs are enjoyable, yet I feel like I have not really made my point as well as I could. I know how I feel when I make my arguments. I also know that my opinions are based on facts. If I had time to, I could post links and articles substantiating the assertions. When someone puts up an obviously bogus statement, I ask for some kind of validation, and I should do no less.

     More importantly though, I just do not like donald trump. It is a visceral feeling which may, or may not be backed up by fact. The truth is, my opinion can never be changed by any amount of "facts" that could be "trumped-up" and put in front of me.

• I believe donald trump is a liar.
• I believe donald trump is a dishonest person.
• I believe donald trump is a dishonest business man.
• I believe donald trump will say anything he needs to in order to fulfill his need for power.
• I believe donald trump will make decisions that will only hurt our already  Great Country.

• I do not believe donald trump will be a good, much less great, President.
• I do not believe donald trump has the background, or ability to run our already Great Country.
• I do not believe donald trump is a good business man. (Honestly, if he was such a great business man, why can't he prove it by revealing his taxes?)
• I DO believe his businesses, which represent his profesional practices and personal beliefs cheat, discriminate against and rip-off people. People who trusted him with their money and in many cases their very life's savings are victims of his vicious methods.

     Most of these statements can be backed up with a quick internet search; try a simple keyword search like, "Trump credibility."

     My friend says that some of the sources are not credible. My reply is, "You may not like what they say, but that does not mean they are not accurate." The other statements are emotional but are grown from credible FACTS.

olc

Some call it Sacrifice

I had arrived at work about 15 minutes early as usual hoping to to make a pot of coffee and get settled in before the work day ahead. Usually the bookkeeper, now owner, was there to unlock the door for us. Today however, she was late. Sometimes this happens because she had to do a deposit and it takes time. Though it was a miner annoyance, we thought nothing of it until she was about ten minutes late. Now we were getting a little annoyed, my kitchen manager and I. Not only was our caffeine intake being inhibited, but minutes were being sacrificed to her tardiness.

Finally we got a call. It was Ellen telling us that she was gonna be a bit late. Dean said she was late because our country was under attack and every one close to a T.V. was glued to it.

We finally got into the kitchen and started our routine, but Dean went someplace and found a T.V. for us to monitor the news cast. I remember watching the first tower going down and after a little while seeing the same thing from a different angle, only it was the second tower imploding.

Dobbins Air Base was within site of Doc's and we had gotten used to the thunder of jets flying over head, but today, and many days after, the sky was silent. Lunch that day of tragedy was subdued, though there were lots of people in the bar talking about what had happened.

Of course we made lunch for lots of people, but I think they needed to be around each other more than stuffing their faces with food and booze.

Every year we hear about this time, we talk about the sacrifice made by those who were murdered by insane terrorists.

I will argue this is not the correct term to use here. Sacrifice implies knowledge of the deed by the victim and their trusted  confidants. When a virgin was slaughtered, she may have been terrified, her family may have rebelled against it, but they knew, or thought they knew, that it was best for their community. In war, a general may offer up some troops to sacrifice for the greater good. Even when pagans sacrificed a lamb, offering it to the gods, the people knew why it was being done. In all cases those being killed were offered not taken.

On September 11th, 2001, no one offered to be killed for the greater good they were MURDERED for. Murdered by zealots. I understand how some need to feel that all of those deaths served a purpose. They want all those deaths to have a meaning; one which some how meant the deaths of those innocents  served a cause that was engineered  to make our country, our way of life---better, more meaningful. I wish it were true.

The truth, in my humble opinion; those plaines were sent out to end our society as we know it to create one that, in their delusional view, fit into an extremists vision.

We may be talking about perspective here, but remember---we did not start this war. So maybe we need to look at it from their point of view and attack their logic, their ideology, with ours---one with a more equal outlook, one which uses our  Constitution, not  ideology, as a guide post to a moral and fulfilling way of life.

Those unfortunate souls who were murdered on September  11th, 2001, were not a sacrifice. There was nothing noble in their death. They were victims of extremists trying to make a religious point.

(Do you see any parallel here? (election 2016))

So now we get down to  an interesting point. Should we allow religion to govern our lives? Maybe we need to understand basic human morals and fight for them using our Constitution as a guide post.

olc

And the Road Continues

     My wonderful Runtyun has been helping Kyle out at the Cathedral during Music Camp for the past week. What a great way for her to start off her summer vacation! It has been a bit of a challenge getting her to and from Camp, mostly where to go after each day is complete. Her grandfather has been a tremendous amount of help. Thanks Dad.

     However, yesterday at 2:45 he called me and said he would not be able pick her up due to Mom's falling and not feeling so well. Well as you might expect, this bit of information started a whole bunch of balls rolling.

     As it turns out, Mom is OK. She was discharged from the ER around 10 last night. Being 92 we all were concerned for her health and safety, but it turns out we all overreacted.

     And now the complexity of our road to recovery and quality of life for Mother's remaining days is becoming more interesting.

olc

Doc's party pt. 1

There is a party coming up, one that is a flashback to my past...the good and bad old days. It comes down to whether or not to go. For some reason I am making this much more complicated than is necessary. Of course I want to go, yet Atlanta in general and Doc's in particular represents some of the most traumatic times of my tenure on this world.

I find myself staring off into the past while writing this, remembering the fun and the pain. Somehow the face of my beautiful Runtyun appears and pushes everything aside.

Why would I want to go back there? I think this the first question I need to address. As I tell my Runtyun, one can never have too many friends. And I truly have too few. So it would be nice to re-cultivate some old ones.

Apart from seeing some of my old Doc's buddies, I may spend some time with others whom I miss. Eric is one of my best oldest friends, he has helped me with some legal matters, and he can poor a mean slug of single malt! Of course there is Jennifer, with whom I have some kind of bond that is beyond explanation, yet I enjoy her company!

When ever I go down to Smyrna, it is always a test of my resolution to stay off drugs. For all those purest NA folks out there who read this, I do drink beer, which is technically a drug yet I feel that I have that under control.

I even thought about going to an NA meeting at the rehab that I attended before I got clean. Maybe that could be cathartic in some way.

Well, now we have an idea of the kind of posts I be doing in the near future. They will have to do with the process I am going through for attending the party.


olc

Mom's Journey

Wow, I have been focusing my energies on this new project recently and completely ignoring ones which were already going on!

As you know, because you the reader are so loyal to this blog, I have been working on a new blog centered around the Greenhouse Moto Cafe, go on over and have a look. Also, my mother took a fall awhile ago and had to spend a long time at Stone Creek Rehab.

She is a tough old bird, I only hope I am as strong as her when I get there. When she was admitted to Stone Creek, she was awake and could hold a conversation. However, we all knew something was not quite right with her ability to think a thought through to its logical end. Also physically, the bruise on her left temple was still pretty profound and her left arm and shoulder were and are still incredibly weak.

When Mom was released from Stone Creek, both her and Dad were emotionally ready for it. I wonder if their need to "get home where she belongs," may have been premature from a physical therapy point of view. She is so weak.

At any rate though, she is at home and seems to be happier. Their church community brings dinner over for the next little bit, thus letting the two of them get settled into a routine. And there are lots of people coming and going, trying to establish a health program to help maintain Mom's (wait for it!)...Health! 

However, Mom and Dad want to live a quiet life with little distraction. For the moment though, this is not happening.

Dad and I talked a little about his concerns. If the conversation had a title it would have been, Concerns of the Primary Care Giver. Mostly I think, he just needed to let off some steam. He let me know that the invasion of their house was taking a toll on him. I could see it on his face, feel it in his body. After we had talked it through some, a light bulb lit over my head.

The truth is, I was not sure if he just needed to vent, or if he was looking for solutions for his angst. Being a fixer, I took a leap and tried to help him to ease into the new life style they are shifting into. Dad has a number of concerns which he mentioned, but the most important seemed to be the constant, almost revolving door-like, flow of new people who need to come in and help Mom. The perceived demands of the care-givers; when could they come by and help; the fact that these care-givers were giving both Mom and Dad directions on how to live and so forth, was taking a severe  toll on Dad.

After some more conversation, I realized that maybe they needed one day off from the physical therapy, the constant visits from car-givers, the woman, Carol is her name, who is helping Mom with her day to day routine and so forth. They need a day off from it all. They need some predictability in their daily life. I suggested they tell the world that Thursday would be their day, no appointments, no visits, no nothing.

I'm hoping Dad will be able to enforce this.

I wish I was able to say all is well in House Turner. There have been some profound changes in their life, ones which will forever impact them and their style of life. Mom is weaker than I have ever seen her. And Dad will have to learn how to compensate. Saying that, Dad is not 70 any more and is beginning to feel the limitations of nearly 90 years of living on this Earth. It is hard for them to accept help from anyone. After all, they have been doing fine over these many years, right?

I will play my role, as will Martha, and assist in every way I can.

I love you Mom and respect your fortitude. Dad, your quiet strength is so understated that sometimes we just accept it without understanding the toll it takes on you.


olc