Thursday, December 26, 2013
Yesterday was Christmas day, 2013. I am 45 years old so that means I have lived through 45 Christmas celebrations. I don't remember the first few obviously, but the first Christmas that I really remember is when I was about five or six years old and we had an aluminum tree. I was in the Christmas pageant at church and I remember rehearsing my lines over and over in the car and at home before going and then getting up in front of everyone and freezing up. I couldn't utter a single syllable. The next Christmas that I can recall I was in third grade I believe, we lived at 1103a East Wood Street in Paris, Tennessee. I remember that my sister and I were supposed to be asleep and we had left Santa an apple, of all things. We were whispering and listening when we heard a noise in the attic. There were footsteps, and then a crash, and lots of curse words I won't repeat here and then we heard the gifts being put under the tree and crunching as he ate the apple. It was a familiar voice. That is when we discovered that Santa and our father were the same guy. I don't remember any other Christmas until we lived on Manley street. Then it was all about telling our parents what we wanted and hoping we got it. Our family wasn't rich, but I don't remember ever being disappointed at Christmas as far as gifts that we wanted. However there was one thing that always happened to me every single year if I got a Barbie doll. I don't know why, but every Barbie doll I ever got broke immediately after I got it out of the box. Either the arm, leg, head or one time the whole thing broke in half. I called it the Barbie curse. I also refused to play at all with my sister unless she played with the broken doll. One year when the doll head fell off I just smooshed it down onto the neck until it stayed put and then she had no neck and I made my sister play with "no neck Barbie ". I was a horrible sister. Anyway I was remembering all of this and thinking how blessed we were then and how blessed we are now. Even with the curse on my Barbie dolls Christmas was always special and magical to me. I hope everyone had as good a Christmas as I did and many more to come. I'll be funny next blog just reminiscing this time around.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
I have never really had what you would call a "Good" day. I don't tell you this to make you feel sorry for me, I don't know what I am missing so it's all good. I tell you this so you will understand why I think the way I do about other people's lives. I have always been sick, or in pain. ALWAYS. I don't really ever feel like doing anything much besides getting on the computer or reading. A nurse told me that one step for a normal person is like ten steps for me. Think about that for a minute. Think of all the steps you took today, now multiply that by ten. I have a dear friend who is an actress and living in New York. She had a movie come out last month and she is always posting pictures of her life, parties, working on movies, going to dinner with friends. I watch movies about the fast paced lives some people lead and I cannot wrap my head around it. I cannot imagine being able to run errands and go to dinner on the same day much less do any of the things other people do. I look at them and think, "Is that real? What does that feel like?" I am 45 years old and just realizing that there is a whole world of people out there, living lives and doing things I cannot even imagine and here I sit on my couch. I guess I am rambling but it just struck me this morning that my world is truly so small, but there is a world out there where people are living and having all kinds of exciting lives. I told my actress friend this morning that I wish I could be her for one day because one day would wear me out, but if I were healthy and normal and her for one day, I might not want to change back! I know there is a reason for everything and all of that jazz, God made me this way for a reason, but I sure wish he had given me just a little more energy and good health.
Monday, December 9, 2013
I have several best friends. I actually wrote a blog about them a while back, but I also have a couple of friends whose relationship is....different to say the least. One such friend was Eugene Whitten. Eugene and I met in around 1993 and we were instant friends. He was loud and obnoxious and sooooo very hilarious. I was living in Rutherford, Tennessee and going to AA meetings in Milan, Tn and one day there he was, in all his craziness. He was a big man (around 380 to 400 lbs at his largest when I knew him)and we were like two peas in a pod. He came to visit me a couple of weeks after we met and stayed a few days in the tiny town of Rutherford and we had the BEST time!! My favorite memory is of Gene (wearing my big flowered bright housecoat), my daughter and myself running around in the grocery store shopping and for some reason we started yelling out the fruits that were available. Just walking along and belting out "Cantaloupe, peaches, watermelon, kumquat and pickled beets!!" I am still not sure how that last one got in there. Pickled beets. Pickled beets. Pickled Beets became his nickname for me. I always thought I should have been something cute like kiwi or star fruit, but he picked Pickled Beets. He became my kumquat though sometimes he signed his cards or notes to me as Kiwi. As it does life moved on. I found love and moved to Paducah and we lost touch for a while then came facebook and he found me on there and added me and I sent him my number and address and of course the cards rolled in. He would send me birthday, Christmas, or just everyday "I am thinking of you" cards. He would call me every week or two to check on me and we would talk for hours giggling and just being silly. Recently, he had to have surgery so he wouldn't be in touch for a few months and I was just thinking about him a few days ago and wondering how he was doing. My sister called me yesterday and told me he passed away. We are not even sure when or how, but my Kumquat is gone. My funny, loud, silly friend who often called me Smack Madam (if I needed a bath) and I would call him Jemima Puddleduck for the children's book, this special friend who made me cackle at the things he said is gone. I wish I could even begin to explain how I feel right now because though it doesn't seem real. I missed him before, but now it seems there is a Kumquat sized hole in my heart. I will miss you so much, Kumquat. I loved you dearly, Gene. Rest in peace.