The Way Things Work

I grew up an army brat: in other words, I was worldly enriched all over the planet with weather of all kinds.  Sunny days were my favorite with mild climate on Oahu which was a blessed adventure for me as a kid.  We were also stationed in Germany where snow was rare, but we did have it once in a blue moon.  In the distant traveling to Garmisch-Partenkirchen, you could see a vast eye-catching mountain range with trees trailing down the sides of those ever present high peaks.  What a sight to behold.  Obviously, my eyes have seen so much beauty.

Hawaii always helps me to gain balance and get me in the right frame of mind.  The way things work for me is to find equilibrium .  The continual ability to put something in steady position is so vital to me so as to not fall to totally out of stability.  As the ocean flows so my mind quietly does with the tides, robust at times and tame at others.  I close my eyes and abandon myself to deep thought listening to those gentle waves while crashing at even sequencing .  Oh what joy.

It does not surprise me that when I go for massage therapy, my music of choice is always the waves.  As so my fond memories of not that long ago stay with me in a small room for treating my chronic pain. Funny how we go back in time to find the peace we need for today.  Just food for thought for you and thanks for dropping by my friends.

 

Getting Older

My view from my home

I am an old soul.  It is a good feeling to know exactly what and who you are and how you determined your own point of view in this world.  The initial encounters in my nursing career were always beneficial in understanding myself.  After graduating from college and moving on to hospital nursing, it occurred to me I enjoyed one on one time with my patients that were geriatrics the most.  I loved hearing an 85 year old’s perspective on life.  Getting older can be a joy.  This was a good lesson to learn early on.

My Army Brat Childhood Highlights Through Photography

President Richard Nixon was a part of my army brat life when he visited Hawaii on his way to China for a pivotal strategic trip.  Dad took this photo at a military parade on February 20, 1972. He was a Command Sargent Major whose job entailed facilitating VIP’s.  I was in a unique position to view history in the making because of my dad’s position.  Nixon’s goal for this trip was to improve relations with communist China.

Memory Loss

It’s inevitable . Don’t count yourself out. No one wins in this battle. 

She called me and voiced her concern. I said, “what’s the matter?”

“He asked me again how old I am.” Repeat.  Rewind.  Move forward.  It was the advice I gave. 

“Keep drinking your nightly glass of wine too!” That advice she liked. A lot . 

Memory issues are ever present in my own devised, messy life. As a brain tumor survivor,  I decided to do life as my will determines it to be. That can be complicated as well as simple. Never boring. 

Then there is my autistic son . He has real issues remembering everyday life sequences. I try to make life fun for him. It really helps. 

The problem I see with care takers is the isolation brought on by the inability to be out in society as much. My idea is we all need to help each other.  Forgiving those that are losing their memory also is probably not what a care provider or family member wants to hear, but it’s the only way one can be. 

For example, Caring for my son was days without sleep turning into countless years with sleep deprivation. My son turns 24 next week, 22 years I was the main provider. I had several helpers throughout the years and his dad was awesome, but most weighed heavy on my shoulders. 

Routine also needs to be kept constant. I did not realize it until my son was born. I am mostly a spontaneous person and do not care for everything being the same day in and day out.  Spontaneity was needed because my RN job caused me to have to document everything very closely by the clock. I sure did not want to do that with my personal life! 

Written in memory of those who lost their battle with dementia. 

Traveling and Blogging

Parked outside of the Casa Monica was a beautiful car of yesteryear.

Travel blogging can be full of surprises.  Readers, my recent trip to St. Augustine, Florida was a vacation spot you do not want to miss.  It was quite a special experience seeing the oldest European city in the United States.  I thought it would be fun to begin a blogging series of random photos and share of few interesting facts along the way.

Go On Now

There is old time history in those Kentucky hills.  If one is lucky enough, you might hear of it told in a story or two by your kinfolk.

“Go on now, help me get my shoes off,”  in distress papaw asked the girls.

Jeanette unlaced her grandfather’s left boot and June the right.  They tugged until the boots fell to the wood floor.

Mama knew her daddy was short of breath.  Her girls were too young to understand, but they knew something was not right.  Jack was even younger at 9 years.

Mama secretly told Willie her husband to go on now to a neighbor’s home to call the doctor. He returned shortly never making that phone call.  Willie had heard the dinner bell rung by mama.  It was the S.O.S. that her daddy was gone.

My Dad’s first cousin pointed out to me where papaw’s farmhouse used to set.

Night before last, the family had went down to papaw’s house to visit.  Papaw said he was not feeling well. For the first time ever, he decided to spend the night at his daughter’s home.  Little Jack strolled alone with grandpa back to his parent’s farm after the rest of the family had left to go back early.  Jack loved Papaw.  He knew Papaw always had a good story to tell.  That day, he did not know that it would be his last he was to hear.

Stories and long tales are family favorites of mine.  Some of them are sad, but more often there is a good laugh to be had by all.  Jack was my dad.  The girls were my aunts.

Recently on a trip back to Kentucky, I had the opportunity to attend my family reunion and my Aunt Jeanette’s 90th birthday party which just so happened to fall on the same day.

I was able to shock my Aunt coming in from Seattle. I kept it a secret.

I was able to visit the family farms and see the old cemetery that dates back to my four times great grandfather.  He is buried way back in the tall trees far from anyone.

This map is from public records showcasing the farm highlighted in blue with the number 62-37 77-9. You can see open fields, but in those woods is where the cemetery actually has our ancestors.

Three years prior to this visit, the cemetery was cleaned up.  This time I saw the place after very little work had been done to it.   I thought I would share in pictures a bit of what I saw along with a story that makes us all wonder about what it must have been like growing up on a farm. You see 911 was just not available and as a matter of fact many of these farms still have no 911 addresses attached to them.  It is as if time stands still when you think about it.  But we all know that is not true.

In the next few days I will be writing about the adventures involved in finding the exact location of the cemetery.  Public records do not include the cemetery notated when I made reference to it with the folks who hold this information in the courthouse.

In the woods leading to the cemetery, we found critters and many dangerous plants such as these. Do you know what these plants are?

This story is dedicated to all fathers.  Happy Father’s Day Jack ( in Heaven otherwise known as Randall by some, Bill by others, and daddy by me).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomboy Summer of 72′

I was known for tomboy antics, but with a price. NOTE the knee bandage!

“You are such a tomboy.”

“No. I’m not.” running as fast as I could from my friend.

“Yes. You are!”

“You can’t catch me. Can you?”

I stopped.  I put my hands on my hips and stuck out my tongue.

Carrie looked at me with her piercing eyes and oh those buck teeth and proclaimed, “do you want to know how many boyfriends you are gonna have?”

Incredibly ‘her tomboy’ friend gladly said, “sure!”

While sitting down in a field of beautifully comfortable grass, Carrie explains to me how I was going to find out the truth of my long line of boyfriends.

It did not occur to me in that moment that maybe I could be a tomboy while looking at my knee bandaged all up.  

“Do this and the more they crack the more boyfriends you are gonna have.”  I watched in complete awe as Carrie popped every finger on her two hands!

“Go ahead and do it.” Carrie said with great anticipation.

So I began to push, pull, and tug my fingers like Carrie was doing.  Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And than I heard it! “CRACK!” and then I heard only one more pop!

“That’s it for you Alesia.  You ain’t gonna have many.”  I stared at my friend and did not say a word.

“Hey let’s go play some tether ball.” She said.

We both got up and ran like crazy to the playing field.  I beat Carrie in that too!

I probably never beat her in boyfriends though.  The two cracks were enough for me.

 

 

 

 

Flip-Flops And Life

I am a 70’s girl stuck in 2014. How do I learn to belong? Can you pick me out?

Running late for my dental appointment, I grab my socks and I thought my shoes. As I start the engine and travel down the road, I realize the shoes were a figure of my crazy imagination.
Laughing out loud to no one but myself, I don’t turn around. Frozen in time, I look down to my bare feet and think who cares?
I could say I don’t care about shoes and I do not care to choose, but reality is I was in a hurry.

“Alesia, put something on your feet if you are going out to play!” Living in Hawaii–who cares, right.
“Ok, mom,” As I run out with flip-flops in my hands and no socks. The flip-flops never made it to my feet usually.
It was 1971 and who gave a you know what about shoes. We lived in Hawaii and we just wanted to have fun and playing with the other kids without shoes on was the norm.
Those were the days. No one held this girl down. No shoes for sure did. Being on your own time and really no time source to tell me different made me feel like nothing could go wrong. Reminiscing of the days of old, I still realize how I loved those old days. Backing up in my mind, everything was going my way. I could do whatever I wanted to do.

“Damn.” I said to myself realizing I was not going to turn around for my shoes just because I was going to the dentist. You could call it crazy, but I called it freedom and memory freezing even if just for the 15 minute drive. The sun was beaming down on my car hood and it was just a beautiful day. Who cares if I have any shoes? I sure did not. After all I am just an American woman wanting to mess with your mind and show up barefoot.

Oh..That’s where those flip-flops ended?

“Alesia, time for supper. Come in before your food gets cold!” Man, moms know how to mess up a good tether ball tournament going on with my friends on the Barracks we lived in. All the children I played with hovered around that ball and string.
“Ok, mom!” I shouted. My friends were so kind. They crowned me the champion for the evening tether ball match. I took that championship home with me with a big smile on my face. Walking into the house, my mom looks at my dirty 9-year-old feet. OOPS!!!! No flip-flops on.

Walking into the dentist office and then sitting into the chair, my dental hygienist does not even notice I am barefooted.
She starts talking about some old man’s world book series where men would turn into young men and become super heroes.
Geez, I felt like a super hero just then. I got caught outside without my shoes on and no one cared!

Honolulu 1971. Ahhh! The life.

1973

Growing up in Hawaii and lasting memories from a little girl. Come along for the ride and see where we land!

1973 was the year. It was when I had my first crush. Jamie and I had a lot in common. We were both brunettes. He was small and so was I. He loved playing sports and so did I. He was 10 years old and so was I. He was shy and so was I. Ok. That last statement was not true.
Memories are a powerful thing. It is a wonder why we pick certain people over others to be “interested” in. The funny thing is how does someone know what a crush really is at the age of ten? Furthermore, when we grow up, why would a woman pick just one guy out of a lineup of several she could choose from? I mean think about it. Many times we women go for the no-good lazy bum from the wrong side of the tracks. But I digress.
Jamie was the perfect boy. He really was such a sweet person, but the truth is I do not think he really noticed me. That was Ok because really I knew I was just not quite ready to date. After all, I wasn’t even out of my first decade of life.
Seriously, it is fun thinking back on 41 years ago and realizing maybe some things never change. No one could ever compete with little Jamie. He is the “one” that got away.
Have you ever heard of the saying, “When one door closes, another one opens up.” It dawned on me that those early years of my life were like the changing seasons we have every few months. April is always a beautiful time back in my home town. Spring is on its way. Almost overnight, I can see the azaleas, gardenias, and honeysuckle blooming. It is a site for sore eyes. If I could paint you a picture, we would see vibrant colors everywhere. We would see the changes season to season and perhaps even minute to minute. The colors would be glorious with different shades of green, yellow, blue, and pink. I would not forget the birds and the trees surrounding the beautiful landscape of flowers. What vibrant colors we could share.
That is what I yearn for now. Simplicity. Keeping things simple and full of hope should be what life is all about. Leaning on our memories and learning from them is quite possibly why God gives us so many second chances. Why does he keep repeating the seasons? Do you ever wonder why there are only four seasons? Why aren’t there six or eight? Maybe deep down we yearn for familiarity and traditions along with a small element of surprise once in a while. I think that is why I think about 1973. It was a simple life. I did not care if Jamie liked me or not. I just knew he was such a great sight to look at in 1973.  He had really done it for this little girl.

Winterizing My Dog

Linus has slowed down. He is alert and knows who I am, but just doing what all of us will do and that is age. It came down to the fact I was in a position of listening to my inner self concerned of not letting Linus suffer. “He knows who I am!” I kept saying to myself.
Is this enough to keep a dog alive? Is it enough when they are in pain if indeed that is what is going on? To my relief after a veterinary visit and counsel, we decided to put Linus on some medicine to help his bones from aching and quite possibly getting him back to jumping around the house again. It has been a month on Carprofen and Tramadol for my baby and he is getting his MOJO back!
While some of you have been winterizing your homes, I have been winterizing my dog Linus. After all he is the best friend a girl could ask for:

Bringing Linus home!

Linus The Charmer!

Oh Those Eyes!