Random Thoughts about life in general, living in the big city of Toronto
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Todays theme is Flowers
This rose is called Breath of Life and it’s a climbing rose. I think this is one of the best rose photo’s that I’ve taken.
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1…. Thunder! Yes, Thunder, not lightning. Well, yes, I do have a healthy fear of lightning, but why on earth do I want to crawl under the covers and hide my head when it thunders? My brother brought back a Rhodesian Ridgeback dog from Africa, back in the 80’s, and that dog was terrified of storms. I used to hide under the table with him!
2…. I was told that when I was a young child a motorcycle drove by and I went into hysterics over the sound. Perhaps that’s why thunder bothers me.
3…. If I could choose how I might die drowning wouldn’t even make the list. I’m not a strong swimmer, and the thought of sinking and not being able to get back up scares the heck out of me. I do however love canoeing and whitewater rafting. Go figure!
4…. I’m afraid of heights. Even standing on a chair bothers me.
5…. Even with my fear of heights, I find myself up on ladders more often than I’d like to be seeing as our house is in a constant state of renovation! Plus, I used to rock climb. I haven’t done that for years but I bet I still could.
6…. I don’t like bridges very much either. That’s probably a combination of the fear of heights and maybe even the fear of drowning thingy.
7…. Does a bridge make a loud noise when it falls down? If it does then bridges might also be on my thunder list. They do rumble when you are standing on one and a big truck drives on it. Are you following my logic or have I totally lost you?
8…. Fear of falling! Just take a look at what happened to me a month and a half ago to know why I fear falling. Oh my chin and jaw!
9…. Hey I’m a klutz. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, so it’s only natural that I fear personal injury due to my klutziness!
10…. Speaking of being a klutz, and injury, I just burned the top of my right index finger and the bottom of my left middle finger while trying to take a hot pizza off the pan. What can I say, the pan slipped, I grabbed it. Stupid!
11…. Fear of fire. When I was 5 our old farmhouse cottage burned down with my brother inside of it. I remember standing outside with my mother and grandmother calling for my brother for what seemed like hours. Fortunately, unbeknown to us, my uncle had run into the house and rescued my brother shortly after the fire started.
12…. I fear for my husband. A year and a half ago he passed out at work, right at the triage station in Emergency. His ecg was altered, so they thought he had a rare sudden death heart arrhythmia called Brugada Syndrome. He was thoroughly tested, something like what they did on HOUSE last night, and they weren’t able to find any problems. But, his ecg is still altered and he still feels faint and shaky at times and when he does I worry over him. He’s too young to die, we have a lot to do yet.
13…. Pain. I fear pain. I have constant chronic pain in my abdomen and it always gets worse at night, worse if I lie down. So I don’t sleep, and when I don’t sleep I have more pain. Ow.
So Am I a wuss or what? I think most of my fears have a rational basis, but maybe I’m wrong. What do you think? Do you have any fears?
** Update** From some of the comments I think some people think I’m sitting here living in fear. Nope! I’m not. I’m not quaking in fear all day everyday. This list is for fun. Everybody has fears, I’m just opening up and listing a few of mine.
Oh and please check out my Wordless Wednesday post below as well! Thanks!
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Wordless Wednesday
Lily Flowering White Tulip
White Tulips
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I suppose it’s time I write my follow up to Mother’s Day – A love Story.
I had a very happy childhood. Yes, there are things I could complain about, but compared to many other peoples childhood horror stories, my life was perfect.
I had loving parents that provide a stable home life – a roof over our heads, plenty of love and care, and there was nothing that I needed that I lacked.
Yes, they did deny me some of the things that I wanted, but I believe that was good parenting. They taught me to respect what I had, and to earn what I wanted.
I also had three older brothers and an older sister to care for me and spend time with me.
I don’t remember much about my oldest brother. He was after all nearly 20 when I was born and moved out of the house within a year or two. Our relationship has never been all that close and that’s likely because of the major difference in our ages and the fact that he wasn’t around that much while I was growing up.
My second oldest brother was great. I can remember him taking me skating, skiing, playing golf (well, I sort of caddied for him when he played golf with his friends), hiking, canoeing, tobogganing.
We did all the fun sporty stuff together. I saw him repeat the same things with his own children. Always being a big part of their lives. In fact he was the first of my siblings to become a father.
My youngest, but still much older brother, is the most like me.
We just seem to think alike.
It was always easy to be around him and have fun with him and it still is. I think all my siblings feel the same way about him, as he’s just a great guy.
My sister wanted a baby sister so badly that while my mom was pregnant she told everyone that she wanted a brother. She says now that you never get what you wish for and that’s why she wished for a boy. I guess she was right because I most certainly am a girl!
My parent either felt that I was going to be a boy or that my sister was a handful and they wanted the new baby to be a boy, because they had a boy name picked out for me. Luckily both of my names easily converted into a female name.
By the time I was nine all my siblings had moved out of the house. That was a strange feeling. I’d come from a relatively large family and now it seemed like I was an only child. To say I was spoiled would not be an understatement. However I did know that I was spoiled to some degree. I also knew what sacrifices my parents had made to scrimp and save to get to the position of financial security that they were now enjoying. As I said earlier, I had everything I needed – but my parents didn’t let me get away with too much on my wants. Still, compared to how my siblings were raised – passing down clothing from one to the other, various meals made with hamburger (whereas I usually had steak), they considered me spoiled.
As the youngest, with so much older brothers and a sister, I got to observe many of the pro’s and con’s of life through their mistakes and successes. Luckily my siblings did well for themselves and their families and there were few terrible mistakes along the way. I got to see how they reacted to parenthood and marriage, how they raised their children, and along the way I developed a strong desire to have my own children one day.
I had hoped to start a family by the time I was 25 years old or so. That didn’t happen. I wasn’t even married by that time, but I was with the man who did become my husband a couple years short of my goal. I just knew I would make a good mother, after all I’d seen all of the successful things that my siblings and my friends by this time, had done right and unfortunately some of the things that had gone wrong. I wouldn’t make the mistakes that I had seen and I would hope to be as successful in bringing up a child or two as say my brother had been.
Maybe I’ve been too sure of myself, so sure I’d make a good parent. Maybe I jinxed myself. Why? Well, this is the other reason why mothers day makes me sad. I am still not a mother.
I’ve had four pregnancies. One occurred when I was only 19 years old. Oops! But all have ended in miscarriage. I think I’ve had trouble having a successful pregnancy due to my health problems. Both thyroid disease and inflammatory bowel disease can mess up your system and make it harder to become pregnant and or maintain a pregnancy. I had a pre-cancerous tumor on my thyroid when I was 21, and now as a result of surgery have very little thyroid left and have to take synthetic thyroid hormones. The dr.’s also believe that I have Crohn’s disease but have yet to fully diagnose this disorder. Crohn’s affects your digestive system and amongst other complications it can make you not absorb nutrients properly. As a result my folic acid levels are often low, and unfortunately folic acid is very important towards maintaining a pregnancy and in having a healthy baby.
All that is bad enough, but, I happened to have married a man to whom I thought wanted children as much as I did. When I was 35 and we weren’t having much success I brought up the subject of possibly adopting a child. To my surprise and horror he ended up telling me at that time that he really didn’t want children.
To be continued, come back for part III tomorrow …
Mom and Dad, probably taken shortly after my dad returned home from the war in 1945.
I find Mothers day makes me sad these days. There are two reasons why I find Mothers day and all the advertisements and posts on the web a little bit more than I can endure.
One major reason is that I no longer have a mother. My mother passed away in August of 2003 after a two month long fight with bowel, adrenal gland, and brain cancer. She was 81 years old. Considering her age, there’s a good chance that even if she hadn’t got cancer she still might not be here today. My father passed away in December of 2001.
My parents were both very special people. They were older when they had me. My dad was 45 and my mother was 43. My oldest brother was almost 20 and my sister who is the next youngest to me, was almost 10. My parents always called me their special child because I was very unexpected. I like to think that because they had a child when they were a bit older (not so rare. these days but in the mid 60’s it was very uncommon) I kept them young at heart. In fact they both out lived every one of their siblings in their large families.
I’m still discovering things about them, even now, as I go through the old family photo’s and find postcards that my dad sent to my mom during the war, and pictures that my mom sent to my dad to cheer him up. They were very much in love, especially when they were first married.
I don’t believe that they had a long courtship. I’m unsure when they met but I do know that it was at a dance. My mother had turned down another man who had offered to take her to the dance and she went with one of her friends instead. At the dance, my father saw my mother and asked her to dance with him. At first she said no, but she eventually relented and danced with him. That was the start of a romance that would last just short of 60 years.
I think they might have met in June of 1942. They got married August, 7th, 1942 and 7 days later my dad was sent off to war.
Don’t you just love the uniform?
Throughout my fathers stay overseas he sent her postcards, birthday cards, letters and Christmas cards. All declaring his love for her and the hope that when he returned home their life together would begin. I will scan some of these postcards- perhaps for fathers day. They are so sweet. I never knew my dad was so in love with my mother. I mean, I knew they loved each other, but by the time I came along their relationship was more of a comfortable routine. It was only in their last 15 years together or so that I started to see how much they really cared about each other. When I found the postcards my father had sent I was both shocked and overwhelmingly surprised at the love that poured out of him in his letters.
While my dad was away my mother lived with my fathers father, and his sister. She sent my dad some pin-up worthy pictures of herself. Unfortunately I don’t have them all scanned yet, but heres a peek:
The point of my story is that I grew up in a very loving house with parents and siblings that loved me more than anything. Both of my parents had special qualities but I suppose being a girl I was always closer to my mother. I did go through a rebellious stage, but because I had realized how much older my parents were than everyone else parents, and as a result, realized that I might not have them as long as my friends would have theirs, I developed a deep respect, and yes a friendship with each of them.
My mother was my friend. I talked to her everyday, especially after my father died. We supported each other through hard times, and laughed together during the good times. I learned a lot from her, but the most important thing I learned was to be strong and to believe in myself. I miss you mom, but I cherish your memory and all that you gave me.
I’ll tell you the other reason why mothers day makes me feel sad tomorrow in Part II. But I will re-assure anyone who might be worried about me- I’m fine. This holiday doesn’t fill me with joy, but I’m functioning quite well. I just wish I could talk with my mom on such a special day.
