Extending Prompt #391

 The rest of the story of the little orange Vega happened a whole year later, when I was 15. The summer my daddy died. The first two weeks of the usual month I would spend in Newport and Tuckerman, Arkansas, were spent there that summer with my best friend, Elizabeth (Lissa). Daddy took us camping with some other close friends of his, and I remember learning to ride a motorbike on that trip and fishing in the river, and hanging out with some other teenagers. We had a really nice time together, and it was Lissa's first (and last) time to be with my daddy. Later, I was so glad she got to go on that trip with me, because she was one of the few people I could share my grief with.

I'm pretty sure Daddy had been in the hospital that spring at least once with severe chest pains, maybe twice, and I remember while I was there he was popping nitroglycerin tablets like candy (pain relievers for the heart). I think it was the only thing that gave him relief from the incessant chest pains he was having. He didn't have much time left, but I didn't know that. That's not something they would share with a 15-year-old. I don't think he shared that with his two older daughters either, probably because if he did they would have insisted on coming to see him and there was nothing they could do. But they were denied the comfort of seeing him one more time, and I know they resented that later. I think because he was a man, he didn't want his little girls to see him like that, weak and dying.

To back up just a little, Daddy had a massive heart attack about 5 years before, that had done a lot of damage to the heart muscle, and he almost didn't make it then (he was a two-pack-a-day smoker who quit cold turkey after that attack). The doctor at the time wanted to do open-heart surgery, but Daddy was afraid...his medical insurance was through the Veterans Administration, and the VA wasn't known for its high level of care. Plus, open-heart surgery wasn't as prevalent as it is today, bypass was relatively new in 1974, and he was terrified he wouldn't make it through the surgery. So he turned it down.

Five years later, after another significant heart attack, he was suffering enough that he was ready to do whatever it would take to get relief, but after doing tests, the doctor told him it was too late. There was too much damage, and there was nothing more they could do for him. He (and his immediate family) knew what that meant, but they kept it to themselves, probably at his insistence.

Here's where my traumatic memory comes in. During that last two weeks I was with him, Daddy woke up one morning with severe chest pains (actually, I think he was up most of the night). He was in too much pain to drive himself to the hospital (I'm a little surprised he was able to walk to the car). My grandfather had Alzheimer's and couldn't drive anymore. My grandmother, as far as I knew, didn't have a drivers license, and I had never seen her drive a car. I can't remember for sure if my aunt, Nell, was living at the farm yet. She moved back home at some point to help out, but if she had, then she was at work in Newport that day, and that only left one car to use...the Vega...and only one person who could possibly do it, and that was me. I did have a permit by this time but that's it. If it had been a regular automatic transmission, no problem. I drove my mom's car all the time. But a stick shift? Into town? And driving home alone??? I didn't think I could do it.

I remember protesting at first, because I was terrified that either he would die on the way to the hospital or I would kill us with my driving. I've wracked my brain and can't remember how much driving I did in that car before this event, but it must have been at least a little because I hadn't forgotten how to do it, although I was still very nervous starting up, shifting, and especially stopping on a hill of any size. Popping that clutch and gunning it was jerky but at least it didn't die on me. But my terror couldn't change the fact that Daddy was suffering, and I had to take him to the hospital. So I did. And I think I only stalled at a stop sign once...maybe twice.

The most terror I felt was driving back to the farm alone. On the way into town, Daddy was able to direct me on the several roads to get to the hospital. I knew the road between the farm and my grandfather's house in Tuckerman very well, and could drive that practically blindfolded, but this was in the opposite direction, on roads that I had been on my whole life, but had never driven, so I hadn't paid much attention. Getting lost heading back to the farm after leaving Daddy at the hospital was a real possibility, and I was so scared. I did make a couple of wrong turns on the way back, but could tell when it didn't look familiar, so I was very glad when I finally recognized the last couple of back roads and was able to turn into the little lane at the farm. I'll never forget the relief and huge sense of accomplishment I felt that I was able to do that for Daddy and make it back home on my own...alive...in the Vega.

Less than 2 months later, in August, 1974, Daddy was gone. But I had the comfort of knowing I had been with him during his last months, and I had been able to help him, even if it was a small help. I never forgot.

Let's Try Another One...Writing Prompt #391

 I was looking through the book of writing prompts, not really feeling the vibe if you get me, when I came across one that is a memoir (I'm kind of into those right now...feeling nostalgic I guess). I'm supposed to write a memory of a car...one from my childhood, my fantasy car, my first car (another time maybe), one I learned to drive in, and that one brought up a memory that I'll share.

I learned to drive gradually, on dirt roads, in my grandfather's baby blue Comet. He let me start by sitting in his lap, oh I don't know, probably somewhere around 6 or 7, just steering. By the time I was 12, and could actually reach the pedals, he would let me drive between his house and my other grandparents about 10 miles away, on quiet sandy dirt roads. I can still remember his admonishment to "stay in the ruts!" Because if you drifted too much to the side, you could get stuck in the sand and be there until some kind soul came along and pulled you out...no cell phones back in the 60's. My dad would let me drive once in a while too, so I got pretty good at driving on back roads, even paved ones, by the time I was 14, although my practice was mostly in the summer when I was visiting Arkansas, because after the age of 10, I was living with my Mother in Texas.

But this memory is not of the Comet, but my oldest sister's little orange Vega. She was married and living with her husband in the Philippines (who was in the Air Force and stationed there), so her Vega was parked at my grandmother's house while she was out of the country. They made sure to drive it occasionally to keep it running, but it didn't get used much. The summer I turned 14, 1973, my middle sister and I were both at the farm while she was preparing to get married and move to California. I remember her sewing her wedding dress and my bridesmaid dress. I don't remember why, but she got it in her head that I needed to learn to drive a stick-shift, and what do you know? The orange Vega just happened to be a 3-speed standard transmission. I do remember making it clear that I had no interest in learning to use a clutch...hey, I was only 14 and hadn't even had drivers training yet. No permit, no nothing. But she was determined to teach me (it proved providential later), maybe she just needed a project, something to pass the time out in the country with nothing much better to do. And at that time in my life, I practically idolized her and she could talk me into almost anything...just look at the short haircut she talked me into (I got so much teasing about that haircut at school...another story).

We started by me just learning to go forward and let the clutch out, giving it gas, until I could do first gear with out stalling the engine, then remembering to push in the clutch as I braked. It was very jerky at first of course, but my sister was pretty patient with me and made me do it over and over until I could go. Then we would back up, drive down the lane, turn onto the dirt road and go a few miles, getting fast enough that I could shift into second gear, then turn around and go back. When I was confident enough, we drove to the paved road where I could get it up to third gear. I wasn't confident (or very competent), but I could do it fairly smoothly. Actually, I was just glad when the lessons were over, but I did feel a sense of accomplishment, learning to do something most kids my age didn't know how to do. Thanks, sis.

This skill proved to be important to me the next summer, but we'll get to that story another time.

Combo-blog today

 Another Monday, another difficult motivation day. So, I've decided to combine writing my blog with doing a writing prompt from a book by Tarn Wilson, 5-Minute Daily Writing Prompts, which was a gift from my sweet daughter who is always gently encouraging me to use my artistic talents. There are about 500 different prompts in this book to help spark the imagination and get you to write, even if for only 5 minutes at a time. Today I'll attempt Prompt #3 - Memoir, Voice. I'm supposed to remember a place that has emotional significance. In the voice of a tour guide, I'm to introduce someone to this place.

Here at our second stop on the tour of the childhood homes of the notorious fiction writer, Ann Meredith, we approach the small house in North Little Rock, where she recalls most of her earliest memories in her memoir, Memories of an ArkaTexan. This was the last house where they all lived together as a family, and they lived here approximately 3 years. As we climb the steps to the small front porch, we see that there is a stone chimney. The fireplace is in the miniscule living room, and Ann doesn't ever remember there being a fire lit in the fireplace. She thinks there must have been a safety issue and as it was a rental, they were never encouraged to use it. It is a two bedroom, one bath house, with a large sunroom, totally surrounded by windows, which served as a third bedroom that Ann shared with her middle sister, Jan. She has memories of sitting in this room and just staring out the windows watching the birds and squirrels in the fenced-in backyard.

She remembers one time her oldest sister started a fire in the kitchen by forgetting she had something cooking on the stove, and all the smoke that poured out of there. It was pretty scary to a 4 year old. They had to repaint the kitchen, and although she didn't remember it, her sister told her that she accidentally did it again right after they had painted, so they had to paint it a second time.

Ann also remembered a time when there was a party for the adults from church at a house fairly close by, and the kids (mostly teen and preteen) were gathered at the little white house, eating snacks and playing board games. Suddenly they heard the dog barking out back, and the trash cans clanking, and a few of the kids said they saw someone in the back yard. The older girls called their parents at the other party, who subsequently called the police. Ann thought this development was so scary, yet oddly exciting too. Some of the teenage boys wanted to go outside and check it out, but were firmly told to stay in the house. When the police came, they checked out the back yard and saw that someone had been in the trash cans, so they concluded it was a homeless man of some kind, who was gone by then. Of course, the parents came to claim all the kids soon after that, but it was all the kids could talk about the rest of the night. Very exciting stuff for small town kids...

If you'll come this way, I'll show you the master bedroom where Ann could hear her parents arguing loudly several times, but was too young to understand what it was about....

Let's Stack Our Habits

 As I've stated recently, Mondays can be difficult, but to me they also represent a fresh start, the beginning of a new week with endless possibilities and lots of lists to make and fulfill. Sunday may be the first day of the week, but that day is reserved for worship, fellowship, and rest. I recharge my battery on Sunday. But, when Sunday is really busy/stressful/active...like yesterday... and I don't get that rest, that CAN make Monday sooooooo hard. And when I don't feel accomplished on a Monday, it really throws off the rest of the week for me (almost like, oh why bother, the week is already off to a bad start...it's ruined! Yes, I CAN be a little dramatic and defeatist). It seems a little silly, I guess, to put that much pressure on one day of the week, but that's just how my brain and energy level work. So, I have to try extra hard on Monday to make it a good day, a productive day, at least a little in some way or other...I can fudge it some and still feel good about it!

Last night, though, I was waaaay tired from lack of sleep on Saturday night and a very busy-busy Sunday, that I slept great, with hardly any trips to the bathroom or vivid dreams to disturb me.  I actually woke up feeling refreshed and ready to take on the week. So here I am, brimming with plans and ideas. I haven't made any lists yet, so don't hold me to that. Who knows what kind of tangent I might go off on...and STILL feel good about a day/week!!

But let's talk habit-stacking (see, I came right back to it, aren't I good?). In this book Atomic Habits, by James Clear, (that I'm still ruminating on and trying to absorb a little at a time, for the second time I might add, that's how much I think it will work if I really try...it has before), he talks about adding a new habit on to one or more good habits that you already do (it's not a real habit unless you do it without thinking about it...it's automatic). This is habit-stacking, and it makes it easier to start a habit when you stack it on others that are automatic.

Okay, I need to go on a small tangent here. I THOUGHT brushing my teeth daily was a habit, but when I retired and threw my work schedule and morning routine out the window...defiantly, I might add...some of my good habits went by the wayside, like washing my hair on Wednesday and Sunday like clockwork and brushing my teeth without fail...every...single...day. Yeah, yeah, here you're probably thinking, "Eeeew, gross, you actually skip brushing your teeth?" Yes. Yes, I have been doing that some days. Not a great one to toss, as my hygienist gently pointed out at my last cleaning. The point is, that habit was stacked neatly in a very strict daily routine to go to work, and when the routine went so did my strict habits. I've been retired for two years now, and the last 6 months have been particularly iffy in the good habits department. Let's just say I had a physical trauma that I tried to ignore and pretend didn't happen, but I'm slowly coming to grips with my age, my physical condition, and my need for getting back to a healthy routine and good habits...for myself and my physical/spiritual/mental health. I want to feel good! Tangent over.

Needless to say, I'm adding daily hygiene habits back into my morning habit-stacking. Here is the stack that I'm working on right now...the ONLY stack I'm concentrating on for a few weeks.

Get up (around 7-7:30... NO alarm except when I have an appointment to keep)

Morning poop, henceforth called my "morning constitutional" (I have very little control over this...it happens when it happens. Sometimes I can put it off for up to an hour, so I might empty the dishwasher while I wake up. Usually, it happens right away)

During the morning constitutional, I read the Bible, say a memory verse or two from an app list on my phone, then play a brain game to get the old cells working (and test to make sure they ARE working)

These are very ingrained habits. The next part is the habits I'm stacking onto this...

Shower (most days quickie, wash hair on Wed/Sat)

Dress in workout clothes, stay barefoot to do Pilates

Put hair up and brush teeth

Turn on YMCA app on the TV right away and do a Pilates video (I may do something else later also, like lifting weights or pickleball, but THIS is the habit I will develop now). I'm starting this week with just turning on the video. Next week I'll do 5 minutes and add from there

From now on, I'm NOT allowed to have my coffee until that stack is complete.

So far, so good! I feel like today is already off to a good start!

WHAT I LIKE...ABOUT ME

It is amazing how quickly the week can fly by! It's already Friday and I don't feel like I've accomplished anything. If I think real hard, I'm sure I can come up with something or other. Eh, too much effort. Let's get to it!

What do you like about yourself? Now don't just shrug or wave it off like it doesn't matter. It does matter, especially with women. We have a tendency to be so hard on ourselves...I don't know, I take that back. Maybe the current generation is so well-balanced that you can appreciate your good qualities and still work to improve in other areas. I can't even fathom that. My generation has a strong tendency to be very self-critical...but maybe that's not right either. Maybe it's JUST ME.

My inner voice is constantly criticizing me. Of course, it IS my mother's voice. I've never been able to expunge the critic I've been hearing since I was a small child. I won't go down that rabbit hole again today. Like my sister's therapist said one time, "Rehashing all those bad memories and feelings over and over is like chewing on your own boogers...don't chew on boogers." That statement made a HUGE impact on me, so whenever I go back to my less-than-happy childhood in my mind and start blaming my mother for everything wrong in my head, I remind myself, "Don't go chewing on those boogers again." Yeah, it's icky and graphic but it works for me!

So the last ten days I made a list. Once a day for ten days, I listed something I like about myself. Ten things no problem, right? Huh-yeah (snort), right. Yes, the first half wasn't too hard, but the last few days I had a tendency to repeat myself or expand on something I had already listed. It was a struggle, let me tell you. And I think I should keep going for another ten days, just to make myself think about good stuff and like myself for a while. 

Here's the list: (I didn't try to prioritize except for the first one, which is most important to me)

1) I love and trust my God and nothing/nobody will shake or change that (and believe me, Satan has tested that several times in my life)

2) I never completely give up on things that are important to me. I'll start over...over and over. (I was thinking here mostly about things I want to accomplish for myself, like being healthy or losing weight or growing closer to loved ones or God or using my talents)

3) I like that I'm left-handed. It's not a big important attribute, but I've always liked being just a little different in that way, even when it causes a slight problem or difficulty...I still like it! (I was also very happy that one of my children turned out left-handed too...silly, but I love it!)

4) Even though modern thought is that people are not right- or left-brained, but that the two halves of the brain are integrated...and I believe that, to a certain extent. But I feel my right-brain is stronger and I appreciate that, having a more artistic brain. But I know my verbal side is strong too, so they work well together. Go me!

5) I like the physical body that the Lord gave me (the part I'm not happy about we won't get into right now...I have several thoughts about that). Specifically, I like my height (which is just right for my spouse), my hair (still thick and pretty at my age), my nails (hard and shapely), my hands and feet (especially with a nice pedicure!), my blue eyes, my smile (which perfect strangers have occasionally told me is beautiful, lol). Thank you, Lord, I really like the way you made me physically.

6) I like being from the South, born in Arkansas and raised in Texas. Another thing that I didn't have any control over, but I'm still happy about it.

7) I'm happy that I come from a musical family and have a natural love of and ability in music. It has been a huge part of my life.

8) I like that I'm a writer and an artist, and sometimes crafter. I feel very fulfilled when I actually complete a project. (see, expanded from #4)

9) I like that I have somewhat of a natural sports ability. I enjoy sporting activities (some), and I can improve and be competitive with practice. That goes well with my naturally competitive nature (bonus thing I like...my competitive nature...usually)

10) I like that, with the Lord's help, I'm able to persevere through difficult things (like my vocal problem or seizures or my worsening knee), and work on myself and still be happy a lot of the time. What a blessing.

So, there you go. There ARE things I like about me, and on days when I'm being particularly hard on myself about something or other that I'm not accomplishing, maybe I can learn to pull this list up in my head and feel better! Then there's always dancing around the living room. That helps too! Take it easy, babe...you got this.

Mondays Are Difficult

 I was trying to figure out why that is...why Mondays are so hard for getting motivated. I didn't come up with a definitive answer, and you know what? It doesn't really matter WHY they're hard (they seem to be hard for most people), what matters is that sometimes I don't fight the lethargy, and sometimes I do. And I feel so much better if I can look back on the day and see that I gave it a try...I actually accomplished at least a little something. Even if it's just loading the dishwasher and running a load of clothes...lol, this is the barometer for least amount of effort. It's definitely about the least I can do. Hey, I can live with that sometimes.

Today I actually wrote a page on my book. That's a first in quite a while. Go me! And I WILL NOT judge the effort. It might be boring. It might not make that much sense contextually. Whatever. I'll take it. I did something.

I've started a few simple habits to get me going in the right direction (I discussed habits a couple of pages ago). Developing some better habits is on my mind a lot lately. 1) I make sure I wear workout clothes first thing in the morning. Sure, I haven't been doing much working out yet, but I'm wearing the clothes for it! That is the first step. 2) I make sure I write one thing I'm thankful for and one thing in my "one line a day" journal. I've actually been compiling a list of 10 things I like about myself (I thought 10 things would be simple...yeah---no). But when I get that finished in a couple of days, I'll blog about it! No, no...no previews. You'll just have to wait. ;) 

3) The biggest habit I'm developing so far is to eat very HEALTHY...I mean, really really healthy. NUTRITIOUSLY.  It's taking a lot of my concentration, because I'm working to totally change the way I think and feel about food and eating, permanently. I don't want to just eat healthier because "it's good for me", I want to be happy about it, satisfied with it. I want to actually PREFER and enjoy eating very healthy. It's a totally different mindset for me, trust me. I'm not perfect, I know I never will be...and I can be okay with that, as long as my HABIT becomes eating healthy the majority of the time. The motto of the author I've been reading, Dr. Joel Fuhrman, is "progress not perfection". That statement resonates with me because I've always been a perfectionist. I can't even count the number of times I've given up on a goal/habit when I couldn't be perfect or "fell off the wagon". This time I want to be patient with myself and not give up. I want to be happy with progressing and getting better at it, practicing until I get it right. I understand that there will never be total perfection with this...hey, I'm not giving up ice cream and cheesecake forever, but I can learn to be happy with having it occasionally and not weekly! I've been "practicing" for about 2 months now, and I see some improvement, but I backslide on a regular basis. I've been doing it long enough that I'm not making unhealthy choices unconsciously...I know full well when I'm making a choice that doesn't serve my health, but I still do it more often than I want to. I find myself making compromise choices at times, like eating pizza crust when I know it doesn't sit well on my stomach...but only one piece! Progress...

That's all for now. I know this eating healthy thing will come up again, because I'll need to vent about it every now and then. And I'll update as I add more good habits and try to break a few bad ones. Check off one more thing done today though!

Early Morning

I'm sitting here, slowly waking up and coming to life, thinking about the day and what I'm planning to do with it. Cup of coffee in hand, watching the dog sit in the open slider sniffing the air to see if there's anything interesting to investigate or bark at, I remember to thank the Lord for another summer day in Idaho. 

I love summer mornings here. It's juuuuuust right. The sun comes up pretty early this far north (and goes down pretty late!), it's light by 6:00, and it's cool, but not chilly. There's just a slight breeze, but not windy (usually). The air smells fresh and clean (as long as there's not a forest fire nearby...we haven't had any this summer yet). Perfect.

Best of all, it feels like the morning is just waiting for me. Waiting for me to make something of it, anticipating with bated breath what I might come up with. That feels good. One more morning in my life. God has already given me lots of days, good and bad, happy and sad, a never-ending variety...and I never know where each day is headed. How exciting!

Now that I'm retired, I get to choose what to do with each day. Yes, I still make plans and appointments, and I still have standing "dates", like church on Sundays and Wednesdays, and pickleball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but a day like today is wide open with endless possibilities. I love that! But....but I've been retired for two years now, and I haven't made the most of two years' worth of possibilities. I've wasted so much time.

Oh, I can hear my children's voices in my head..."But you worked for a lot of years, Mom. You deserve to be a little lazy and just enjoy not working. Don't worry about it. Just relax and enjoy your retirement." That's well-meaning, and I know they love me dearly and want me to be happy. I'll admit I've enjoyed a lot of those lazy days. But come on, really? Two YEARS?? That's a LOT of lazy days. You can be relaxed and still be productive...there's got to be a balance. When I retired, I literally had a whole list of creative and organizational things that I wanted to do, that I finally had time to pursue. And I was excited about that. Then..........nothing...zilch...nada. (And I know some of the reasons for that inactivity, that lack of doing anything, but I'm not going to rehash all that now, or hopefully ever again...we're moving forward, not looking back)

What my kids don't hear yet, but I do loud and clear, is that big ole clock ticking in the back of my head, reminding me that my time is winding down, slowly but surely. Okay, I might live to be a hundred, who knows. In that case, I've still got 33 more years! Sounds like a lot. But what if...what if the Lord decides to take me tomorrow. I will have to answer to Him for two years wasted, not fulfilling my potential. Not DOING anything. Not working toward something, not using my gifts in any meaningful way. I'm not unaware of my various talents, I know I have several that I could be utilizing, some just for myself (as down on myself as I can be sometimes, I know I have value as a person with gifts that are unique and wonderful). :)

But I digress. Let's get back to time used or wasted. I'm more and more aware of how short our lives really are, and how much more quickly time seems to pass as we age. We "older" people get that. That's why I'm trying to work on some things, why I started posting to this blog again after several years. This feels like a safe space to explore my thoughts and feelings, to plan, to lament failures, and pat myself on the back when I get it right! And writing this page helps me get back to writing at all, which will encourage me to work on some creative writing...go me!

This "habit" book I'm trying to absorb stresses actually doing something, not forever planning to do something (lol, I've done a lot of planning, not doing, in my life). I hear you, Mr. Clear...loud and clear! To me, this page IS doing...not a whole lot, but it's a start. And on this beautiful summer morning I can be happy with that. Yes indeed. Now I'll take a look at the list of things I want to accomplish today...