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I started out High School Memories by talking about one of my favorite teachers, Mr. M. This time, I'd like to talk about my least favorite teacher. What's the big deal about that you might ask? Didn't everyone have a teacher that they didn't like? Sure, but did you also have that teacher for a class that you really wanted to like? Did you also have that teacher singling you out to mock you in front of 60 classmates? Did you also have so many run-ins with that teacher that you still have monthly nightmares about him nearly 18 years after graduation? Ha, I knew that last one would get ya! (If you don't watch Law & Order, please skip to the next paragraph.) Gong, gong. This is that story.
I started playing musical instruments when I was 4. Over the years, I learned to play piano, organ, accordion, drums, and trumpet. I liked band, especially marching band. I marched in a Drum & Bugle Corps for 2 summers. I won awards for being the best marcher. I was the drum major of marching band in High School (and again in college) cause I was the best and I knew it. Unfortunately, Tom (Yes, it's his real name, I refuse to cover up who he is since he still haunts my dreams after so many years. And, yes we called him by his first name as a sign of disrespect.) Tom decided to make my life hell.
Each semester, Tom would hold tryouts where you would have to play your instrument in front of the entire class to see who was the best and would therefore get the most challenging parts. No big deal, every band does that. However, not every bandleader chooses to make fun of a student for doing poorly because of nerves when playing in front of the entire class. I could do the parts. He knew I could do the parts. I just couldn't handle the pressure of that situation. His history of making fun of me just made it worse each time tryouts would come up again. I finally started just playing what I could and told him to give me whatever part he wanted.
My junior year, Tom changed his grading scale "to deal with people like me." (What kind of teacher talks this way to his students?) See, it was his view that the reason I couldn't play well when singled out was because I didn't practice at home, and it had nothing at all to do with nerves. While it was true I didn't practice, I didn't need to and could play just fine as part of the band. Anyway, his new scale added weekly times for us to play in front of the class and get graded on. You can imagine the joy I felt over this. So, instead of band being an easy "A", like it's supposed to be, I started getting "B's", which then brought my GPA down and got my parents on my case. Of course, they thought he was a great teacher and that I just wasn't applying myself again, since they too knew I wasn't practicing at home. But this post isn't about my parents, it's about my old buddy Tom.
As I said, I liked being in band and had a ton of friends in there, but it made putting up with Tom all the more difficult. I was also a member of the Pep Band, which was a group of us who'd go to basketball games, etc. to play the fight song and stuff. Each year, the Pep Band got invited to go play at the local minor league hockey team's game, which I went to and enjoyed. However, my senior year the game was on a Friday evening, which was also when the theatre group was going to be working on building the set for a new play that I was the student director for. I've already discussed how much I enjoyed set building.
Since going to this hockey game was a volunteer activity after school, I told Tom I didn't want to go. Unfortunately for me, the only other person who played first part trumpet was on the girl's basketball team and had an away game that night. Tom and I argued at length about whether I should have to go to the hockey game or not. I kept trying to remind him that it was a volunteer organization and he couldn't make me go. He talked to the girl and found out there was a chance she'd be back from her basketball game in time to catch the bus to the hockey game. With that, he got me to agree that if she didn't make it back in time, I'd go to the hockey game.
Well, after school that Friday, I started working on building the set with my theatre friends and before I knew it, it was time to get ready for the hockey game and there was no sign of the girl's basketball team being back. I lost it. All the hate I had generated toward Tom over the years came bubbling up and I decided there was no way he could force me to go. (Try to look past the fact that I game him my word. I absolutely hated this man.) It was a volunteer group and so I knew that there couldn't be any repercussions to my not going. I did the only logical thing one would do when faced with this situation. I hid.
Since I was in the auditorium all the time as part of the theatre group, I knew my way around the passages under our stage. I crawled my way into a dark, remote corner and waited. I could hear various people from the Pep Band coming into the auditorium asking for me. Everyone from theatre gave conflicting stories, but it basically boiled down to yes, I'd been there, but no one had seen me in a while, and maybe I'd left. One slight problem with this excuse was the fact that my car was parked in the very first spot outside the doors near the band room and auditorium, and everyone in both groups knew it was my car.
More time ticked by and Tom finally came in asking for me. He asked Mr. M where I was, and Mr. M gave the same response everyone else had given. I could hear the steam pouring out of Tom's ears before he stomped out. I thought I was golden until one guy from band started crawling around under the stage, thinking maybe I was under there. At this point, I'd been hiding for around a half an hour. My eyes were completely accustomed to the dark and I knew there was no way he could see me from his vantage point. I held my breath and waited. He peered in my general direction for a moment and then looked a different way for a moment before giving up the search.
I heard the commotion die down, gave it about 15 more minutes until I was sure that the bus had left for the hockey game, and then came crawling out of my hiding spot. Everyone from theatre started cracking up. I was filthy! I had dust and dirt all over my clothes and there were spider webs all over in my hair. But, I got to stay and had a fun evening working on the set, just like I'd wanted.
[TO BE CONTINUED...]
P.S. Here's my senior picture, since I mentioned my hair. It deserves it's own post someday, but ever since I started talking about high school, I've been dying to come up with a reason to link it. Crazy, I know, but it was the late 80's, so I would have fit in with the MTV crowd at least.
Quick update. It turns out the violation was simply one of my coworkers who needed a copy of a file I'd emailed her the previous day which she'd accidentally deleted. She went to my machine and decided to just start poking around trying to find it while I was at lunch. For whatever reason though, when she saw how I was reacting yesterday, she panicked and felt the need to lie instead of coming clean. I had a nice long email apology waiting for me this morning and things are fine again. Regardless, my screensaver lock remains on, just in case. It was stupid of me to not have it on in the first place.
Also, I see that it's National Delurking Week. Please leave a comment. I'd love to hear from my millions of readers! Ok, I have yet to break 20 on the site monitor, but still, say hi!
We now return you to the regular programming of High School Memories...
We interrupt the regularly scheduled broadcast of High School Memories for this important announcement. Whoever in my office felt the need to be poking around on my computer today at lunchtime needs to LEAVE MY MACHINE THE HELL ALONE!
When I came back from lunch today, I went to start up MS Word, when I noticed that it was already running. I am 100% certain I hadn't used it before lunch. I looked and saw 2 documents on my recent files list that had been opened on today's date. Both files were things I had on my desktop but hadn't even needed recently. The first was just some notes I had written prior to composing an email over a month ago. The second was a "lessons learned" follow up to a project I finished working on 6 months ago. So, as you can see, not any big deal, except for the fact that SOMEONE WAS USING MY MACHINE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION.
I've tried using screensaver password protection at past jobs, but I always found it annoying when the screensaver would popup and require my password when I was just sitting in front of my machine without interacting with it for 5 minutes. This would happen all the time, such as talking on the phone, having a conversation with a coworker walking by, or even reading some PDFs online.
Since our office requires a keycard anyway, I figured for security reasons, I didn't need to worry about being that secure. I started asking around, but no one saw anyone come into my cube at lunchtime. I immediately turned on my screensaver password protection and setup a hotkey to turn it on anytime I want to. I'm sure I'll get annoyed by having to type my password again and again, but after today, I feel violated.
As we continue this stroll down memory lane, the next story I'll share is about my school spirit, or lack thereof. Each year, my high school would have something called Spirit Week, which consisted of a variety of activities for students to participate in and earn points for their grade, culminating in a pep rally on Friday afternoon.
This pep rally was simply the most idiotic thing ever created. First, the winners of a popularity school spirit vote taken during the week for each grade would be named the spirit squad. These 4 guys and 4 girls in each grade would then get to take part in a bunch of games while the rest of the school was forced to watch and cheer them on. Mind you, there were around 250 people per grade, so there were 1000 students watching these 32 popular people. Each game would also have points awarded to each grade, and the class with the most points from all the week's activities would earn the "spirit jug". This old brown jug would then get handed to the spirit squad and they would run around the gym whooping like assholes.
By my senior year, I'd really had enough with spirit week. I got together with some of my friends in the theatre group and we decided to try to steal the popularity school spirit vote. We all voted for 1 guy and 1 girl from our circle of theatre friends and we spread the word to as many people as we thought we could influence. More on this when I recall what happened at the pep rally.
Another of the activities that took place during the week was called the penny drive. There were 4 collection buckets, 1 for each grade, where money was collected for charity. The trick of the penny drive was that pennies collected in your grade's bucket counted as positive points, while silver coins and dollars in your grade's bucket counted as negative points. So, you'd put your pennies in your own grade's bucket and put everything else in some other bucket. Of course the winning grade was always the one that had the total closest to a positive number.
Each morning during announcements, the principal would give the penny drive totals so far. After the Thursday announcements, it became apparent that the seniors were going to win the penny drive unless something drastic changed, and a scheme began to develop in my mind. I decided that I would collect silver money from seniors and tell them that I was going to put it into the freshman's bucket. I talked to all kinds of people, collecting money. Of course, the people that I normally never talked to and actually liked spirit week thought this was a great idea and contributed heavily. The problem was, I didn't put the money into the freshman's bucket and instead put it into the senior's bucket. Yes, I am a liar and was stealing these people's money, but I figured all the money went to charity anyway, so that eliminated any ethical dilemma I may have been feeling.
There was just one little problem with my plan, which came up the next day at lunch. I was sitting in the cafeteria eating my lunch with my friend Kirt, who knew nothing about what I'd done, when 3 rather large football players approached me. Keep in mind, I was a scrawny 125 pound member of the theatre and band. All thoughts are included in parenthesis for comedic value, including Kirt's, which he told me after lunch.
Jock : "Hey asshole, we saw what you did and we want our money."
Delton : "What are you talking about?" (Shit, how'd they find out?)
Kirt : (Why are these dude's demanding Delton give them money?)
Jock #2 : "Don't mess around, we want our money."
Delton : "I'm not giving you any money." (This doesn't look good.)
Kirt : (This doesn't look good.)
Jock #1 : "Listen jerk, you lied and now you owe us money."
Jock #3 : "Yeah!"
Kirt begins to stand up.
Kirt : (Hmmm, this sucks that they're picking on my little buddy Delton. If this gets out of hand, I'll just punch #1 as hard as I can in the face and hope Delton can keep #3 busy while I work on #2.)
Delton : "Kirt, sit down and let me handle this." (I wonder how much money I'd have to give them to get them to leave?)
Kirt sits down and looks at me like I'm crazy.
Delton : "Here's a dollar, now get out of my face."
Jocks take the dollar and leave.
Kirt : "Why in the world are you giving those guys money?"
Delton tells Kirt the story of the penny drive scam.
Kirt : "You idiot, you mean I almost got into a fight with 3 guys because I was going to defend you after you stole from them???"
Delton : "Yeah, thanks buddy, you're a good friend...Uhhh, sure glad it didn't come to that!"
You'd think that was the end of it, but you'd be wrong. Remember when I said I'd recall the story of the pep rally later? Well, that time has come. The pep rally started and the first thing was for the principal to announce the winners of the vote. Both of my friends from the theatre group were voted onto the spirit squad. What joy I felt at helping to displace a couple of the popular people. They participated in all of the stupid games and finally finished that part. Next, the other week's activities results were announced; with the final thing before the awarding of the spirit jug being the results of the penny drive. "In fourth place, the freshman. In third place, the sophomores. And the winners of the penny drive...the juniors!"
Talk about elation, I couldn't believe I'd done it. I was grinning from ear to ear. A couple of seconds later, a chant started up from the senior's section of the gym. I look around, and see Jock #1 talking with a few of his friends and they're pointing at me, leading the chant of "Delton, Delton, Delton!" Of course, my friends from the theatre group had no idea what was going on, they just thought it'd be fun, so they started chanting my name too. Suddenly, half the gym is chanting my name in the middle of this pep rally. Needless to say, I was a little worried.
After the chanting died down, the principal gave the totals. The seniors had enough points overall and were awarded the spirit jug. So, our spirit squad still got to run around like assholes, and no real harm came from my scheme. However, I snuck out the side door of the gym after the pep rally and walked around half of the school building to get to where I needed to be next, just in case.
Nothing more ever came of this, but it was certainly one of my crowning moments from my senior year. I'm sitting here laughing again just recalling these events.
Updated to add: Got an email from Kirt after I told him to read this post. He said: "The only correction I would make to your blog is that I wasn't counting on any help from you in the fight."
Since not too much has been going on around here this weekend, I've been having trouble thinking up content. Before the holidays, as I was going for the promotion at work, they brought in a couple of external candidates to interview for the position. Somehow, a friend and I started joking about how we should start a fight when the person came through our room to make them think it is a bad work environment here, thereby increasing my chances. I know, kind of childish, but it was simply a joke and it seemed funny at the time. Anyway, that reminded me of a story from high school that I thought I'd share. Stick with me; I'm going to give a little background before I get to the story eventually.
My freshman year of high school, there was a new theatre teacher, who I'll call Mr. M (not his real name, it was actually a really long name that just happens to start with the letter M) who had just graduated with his teaching degree. As he was only a few years older than us, everyone hit it off pretty well with him. We had a lot of fun over the years, hanging out in his class and doing plays.
My best memories from school are from the times when we would work over the course of a couple of weekends building the sets for the plays. We'd start after school on Friday and work until around 2am. Then we'd all go to the local 24 hour diner and have breakfast together. Mr. M would buy a big banana split for everyone to share. There's nothing quite like the taste of bacon and pancakes and ice cream. After the diner, we'd go home to sleep and then be back at school around noon. We'd work all day Saturday until around 2am when it was back to the diner again. Sunday we usually spent a few more hours working, depending on what was let to do on the set.
I spent so much time with that group of people over the years. My parents allowed me to host 2 cast parties in our basement. Mr. M's house had a pool which he invited us to a few times. (Don't even start thinking inappropriate thoughts, you perverts! It was all completely harmless.)  He also had a large backyard where we had countless bonfires into the night. I was student director for the 3 shows we did my senior year. My senior year, I was also on the yearbook staff, which meant I had a standing hall pass. So, what did I do with that hall pass 90% of the time during the hour I was supposed to be in yearbook class? I spent it in Mr. M's room doing whatever the theatre class was doing. Looking back now as a parent, I'd be mad if I found out a teacher was allowing this kind of stuff, but it seemed fine back then. We all just had a ton of fun together.
Now the story I was reminded of... One of the productions we were doing had a fight scene in it. Mr. M decided it would be good to spend a little time in class going over the correct way to stage a fight, so that everyone could practice the safe way to do it. We practiced various types of fist and sword fighting for the next couple of days in class. Two of my friends decided it would be fun to stage a fight and see if they could fool everyone. They made a plan to do it in the hall outside of a teacher's room that everyone hated. There were about 10 of us in on it, and we were to spread the word that these guys were really going to have a fight. The appointed time came and they started going at it, fists flying everywhere, a couple of blood packets for good measure, and lots of us gathered around in the hall cheering them on. The hated teacher heard the commotion and came into the hall AND JUMPED INTO THE MIDDLE OF THINGS TO STOP THE FIGHT! It was one of the funniest things ever. Of course, the crowd quickly dispersed, leaving the 2 guys to fend for themselves. They tried to explain that they were just practicing for theatre class, but the teacher was so pissed that he dragged them down to the principal's office.
The principal was not too pleased by what had transpired either and decided to make an example of them. They each got suspended for 3 days for fighting, because as he put it, "The rules for fighting don't differentiate between pretend fighting and real fighting. Someone still could have been hurt." In addition, Mr. M was called down to the office, got a slap on the wrist, and was told not to teach stage fighting anymore.
I've got lots more stories from my high school days. Maybe it would be fun to relive more of my youth, instead of the normal day-to-day stuff. I'll try to get to them in the days ahead...
Enough with the bitch fest. I just reread my last few posts and I started feeling depressed just hearing about all the crap this poor sap has been whining about. Even if anyone does happen across my blog and give it a shot, they won't stay after reading all this depressing stuff. Time to move on and get over it. I need to shake the fog that's been surrounding me for quite a while now. So I'm offering a 2 for 1 special on posts today to make up for all the negativity.
Now how about some good news? I talked with my Dr's office today and the stress test came back clean. Not too surprising, but glad to get that reaffirmed anyway. They said it might be next week before I find out about the 24 hour heart monitor though.
Also, a little more on work. My title at work right now is Developer. We have 3 development teams related to 3 product lines. The promotion I tried for was as the Supervisor of my team, who oversees 3-5 Developers and/or Senior Developers. The guy who got the job was a Senior Developer on a different team. So, now they posted his old job. I talked to our Manager today about possibly being promoted to a Senior Developer, as my current team doesn't have one, instead of me applying for the other guy's old job. I don't really want to switch to a different team, but I told him to let me know before Tuesday, as that's the deadline for me to apply if I need to. He was laughing about us all playing musical chairs, since if I applied for the other job and got it he'd have to post my job then, so he seemed receptive to the idea of this smaller promotion instead. He needs to talk it over with HR first, but hopefully things will work out.
I tried to go into work today with a positive attitude and it was nice to get a couple bits of good news to reinforce my new attitude. As I said last time, I'm tired of being depressed.
I don't want to be depressed. I used to have a positive outlook on things. Nothing really got me down too bad. I was able to roll with the punches. Looking back, I think the first time I dealt with depression was in college. I was being pressured to graduate early by my parents even though I was on my third major, because I was their "gifted" child,. I was due to graduate halfway through my senior year with a degree in philosophy and had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do. I didn't think grad school was right. I was lost and started shutting down. I stopped going to classes, sleeping all day, playing computer games all night. I ended up failing all my classes that semester except for marching band. That was one way to not have to become a grown up. They couldn't force me to graduate at age 20 when I didn't pass my classes. Unfortunately, they also couldn't justify paying for me to live on campus and fail all my classes.
I got lucky that my music professor could see someone who was losing his way and took pity on me. He put me in touch with another professor who lived near him who was going on sabbatical and needed someone to housesit second semester. I met with her, and I'm sure he must have vouched for me and promised to look in from time to time, as she agreed to let me stay at her home the following semester. I could only afford to pay for one class on my own, and rather than taking something to fill a requirement, I took another music class.
During this time, I was also working a DJ business that my parents had cosigned on a loan to help me purchase. I thought I'd like it, but after a couple of years, I was miserable doing it. I still had the loan on it, along with the standard 3 credit cards that I'd acquired during my college years. As I was working a business I didn't like, I probably wasn't very good at it, so I wasn't getting many referrals, wasn't able to make enough extra to pay for the advertising that was necessary to get new clients, and was falling behind on my bills. I would scrape together every dollar I could each month to pay for the loan my dad had cosigned on, as I wasn't about to incur his wrath about that as well. However, I soon started getting phone calls from the credit card companies at the professor's house. She got a couple of them on weekends when she'd return home. I was so embarrassed.
That spring, my girlfriend at the time and I convinced her parents that I should live at their house for the summer. They agreed as long as we both found jobs, which we did. At her house, I finally began to emerge from the hole I was in and resolved the issues I was facing. First, I found out we were not meant to continue as a couple, second, I fixed my relationship with my parents, and third, I got my parents to cosign on a consolidation loan, fixing my money problems at the time. At the end of the summer I moved back to my parents house and quit school. I was able to transfer my job and JCPenney ended up being my employer for 6 years. There, I became eligible for health insurance, which was important, as I wasn't covered by my parents plan anymore because of quitting school.
I didn't know it at the time, but looking back now, it's easy to see how depressed and stressed I was feeling about my life as a grown up. I wasn't ready to face any of it. Luckily, my parents stuck by me regardless of the disappointment I caused them by not finishing school. It took another 3 years and meeting Becky before I decided to go back to school, starting over with my fourth major. I still don't feel like a grown up a lot of the time, but now I've got 3 other people in my life depending on me to get my shit together. And so, the battle continues.
Just a quick note tonight before I head off to bed.
I had a little better day today. I got to talk for a while with the person who got the promotion at work. He's a friend, so that makes things a bit easier. It wasn't any problem with him that I was feeling yesterday. He understands some of the issues I've been facing at work and is willing to work with me to help solve them. I can't ask for much more than that.
I decided to watch Joe Versus the Volcano, my favorite movie, this evening to bring my spirits up. I was in college when I first saw it, and even then the story of Joe's struggles resonated with me. Not much has changed in how I react to it even though it's been 16 years. I knew then about the office Joe worked in, wondering how to avoid losing one's soul as he almost did, trying to find the right clothes, taking the leap of faith like they do, and trying to get away from the things of man; these are the things I somehow knew back then were the issues I'd struggle with my whole life.
Here I am at 34, with a great family, a good, stable job, a nice home, etc. Yet I'm still lost, still searching for the right clothes, desperately clinging to my soul. Only difference is, instead of Joe's "brain cloud", I'm having heart palpitations.
I don't know how much detail I can go into today, but I've got to at least give a little overview of what's going on. I've been up for a promotion at work and found out today that it's been given to someone else. There's nothing I love more than life kicking a guy while he's down. I felt like crawling under my desk and waiting for the day to be done. This is the second time I've been passed over in the past year. I guess they're trying to tell me something. There's such a dichotomy here. On the one hand I get these glowing reviews of my good work, but on the other hand, I'm not competent enough to move up the ladder. I'm really bummed. That's probably going to have to be the end of the story. I'm the sole breadwinner for my family, can't go getting dooced.
In other news, I got to leave work early to go take my stress test. That seemed to go pretty well. I never felt anything strange and got my heart rate going pretty high. Not that I was expecting things to go wrong there. I already know it's not exercise that's the problem. I should find out the results of that and my 24 hour monitor in a couple of days.
When I left the hospital, I wanted nothing more than to stop and pick up a new game for my computer or PS2, go home, tell the family to leave me alone, and play the game until I couldn't stay awake anymore (usually 3-4am is an early night when I'm feeling like gaming). Instead, I didn't stop to buy a game, as I knew I couldn't justify spending the money. Then I arrived home and found The Wife and the kids in the middle of purging toys to make room for the new ones they got for Christmas. So instead I started pitching in on that right away. She told me a couple of times I didn't need to help, but I couldn't just blow them off when they were in the middle of a big project like that.
Anyway, the point I really wanted to get to (about damn time!) is that I'm tired of worrying about money. Trying to get more money was part of the reason for putting myself out there 2 times for the promotion. Never having enough is certainly the "heart" of the heart problems. And not being able to justify spending a few bucks on a game for myself is just shit. I have a VERY good job. I make lots of money. Unfortunately, it's still not enough. I know the holidays puts a crimp in everyone's cash flow, but for the past week and a half, every dime we spent had to go on a credit card. Then, I come home after The Wife balanced the checkbook this afternoon, and she tells me "If you can avoid going out to eat for the next 2 weeks, that'd be good." WTF? It's only been 3 days since I got paid. I am so sick of this.
It's just been a really crappy day all around. I just want to curl up and sleep and pretend none of it matters. The burden of these responsibilities is killing me.
Updated to add - I can't even sleep to ignore it all. I woke up around 5am and couldn't move my legs since the cats had taken over my half of the bed. By the time I woke up enough to realize what was going on and push them out of bed, I was awake. I stayed there about 20 minutes until I finally gave up, came downstairs, and spent a couple of hours killing Nazis on my PS2. That didn't help much.
I’m sitting here on New Year’s Eve, listening to a thunderstorm rolling through. I can’t believe it. This sure has been a strange winter so far. Today was another Lazy Sunday. I may have to get a copyright on those, because they sure work well for me.
Yesterday we went to visit my Mom for the day. She’s about an hour and a half away. The drive was pretty easy and with the good weather, it went quickly. I hadn’t yet told her about my trip to the ER, since I’d talked to her on the phone 3 times since my heart issues and not once did she bother to ask how I was doing. It’s been a point of contention between us for a while now. Whenever we talk on the phone, she rambles on for 15-20 minutes about every little detail of her life, not even pausing to allow me to take part in the conversation, until she finally runs out of steam. Sometimes she remembers to ask about us, but usually not. You’d think that her position as a grandma would mean that she’d be asking all sorts of questions about what the kids are doing, how school is, whatever, but that just isn’t the case. I’ve mentioned it several times, but I don’t seem to be getting through to her. It seems that she’s just too caught up in her world to care too much about us. It’s odd, because if you ask her, we’re the most important thing to her. I don’t mean to complain about her too much, I mean of course I love her. It’s just a bit of a sore spot.
Anyway, about 2 hours after we’d arrived at her house, I still hadn’t gotten any sort of query into how things have been for me. I figure maybe I’m just being bullheaded about this. So, I finally blurt out that I had a bit of excitement this week, and go into my whole story of the trip to the ER and the other tests I need to have on my heart. I got a moment of concern, but then before I really even finished my story, she turned it around and started telling me about one time when she was having some chest pains! I mean come on! Show a little compassion toward your son. It will most likely turn out to be nothing, but to be having any sort of heart concerns at 34 is just a bit unnerving.
On some levels, I wonder if she’s still burnt out from dealing with my dad’s cancer for 8 years. Who would want to have to deal with any other health issues after giving so much of herself to his care? I’d be willing to accept that excuse, except for the fact that on the telephone, when she’s not giving me the rundown of what she had to eat, or what errands she went on, she’s filling me in on what illnesses my uncle, or cousin, or great-aunt, or whoever is dealing with.
The phone calls have changed so much since my dad’s been gone. When he and I used to talk, somehow he’d get me talking about whatever was going on in my life, whether it was work, the kids, places my family went, stories from the past. It was very strange, as whenever we’d get together, it wasn’t like that, but on the phone, it was an easy conversation.
Well, I hear a bunch of the local yocals shooting off fireworks, so with that, Happy New Year!
