Rough Start
This morning began very roughly. It is Sunday and it is supposed to be peaceful and relaxed.
I awoke from a particularly troubling dream. I had to have been about 16 or 17 years old, because my mom, brother, and sisters were in the dream. It took place clearly in the house in which I grew up. It started with the fact that we were up and trying to get around to go to school. For some reason, we all seemed to think that we had plenty of time to catch the school bus as it was about 6:45 or so a.m. and the bus didn't normally arrive until 7:10 or so. I was standing in front of the picture window in the living room, and watched the bus slow down.... but not really stop and found myself thinking we just missed the bus. I thought to myself, that I will have to drive in. My dad was nowhere around, but my mom said to get busy and get dressed. SO.... I proceeded to head back the hall way only to find everything in our rooms and closets either gone or stacked up. Things were old. Old as in 1970's old. I could not find any clothes to wear to school. I kept asking my mom what had happened to all my clothes, shoes, and other things. She said that we were having a sale and that some people had already come and bought things. She said that I would just have to find things from what was left. I couldn't find shoes that would fit. There were about six or seven pairs of old Converse basketball shoes. High Tops, white with a blue star and chevron. They were old and worn out, mashed down, and had obviously been stored in a box of other shoes. Never the less, I had no shoes that would fit, then I began to go through drawers to find a shirt and some jeans. Nothing.... I went back to my mom and asked her to help me. She said very plainly to me, "Don't worry, it doesn't matter." I just remember thinking that of course it mattered. I had to get to school. So I went to the back bedroom and found that it was pretty much empty of any bedroom furniture, and that what clothes were left were stacked in piles around the perimeter of the room. After becoming more and more frustrated by the lack of being able to find what I was looking for, I called out to her again and asked if Kevin, Kelly, and Jenny were ready to go. She said that they had already left. I asked her how. She said that they had started walking. At that point she came back to the back bedroom and sat down in the middle of the floor and began to cry. I asked her what was wrong. She said that Holabird's was closing in 20 days. Then she said that we were going to lose the house, because we didn't have any way to make the house payment. I plainly remember telling here that I would find a way for us all to work, even if it was something we could do from home. At that point I headed to the living room, and reached for the door knob. I glanced out the picture window and there were no cars to take. I turned around toward the kitchen and then woke up.
Now... I know that there are not any particularly radical or violent parts to that dream, but.... it is very important to say here that I don't think I have dreamed of my mother since her death in 2003. That is troubling. It is even more troubling that I had such a clear vision of her. I can not imagine what would have sparked the dream, other than when I was speaking with my dad last night in our nightly conversation, that one of the people with whom my mom worked passed away. They had worked at Holabird's together. After that.... I have no clue as to where the rest of it comes from.
Now... on to other topics. First the passing of Ernie Harwell last week. He had liver cancer and discovered that it was inoperable about a year or so ago. His voice and his passion for the game probably had as much as anyone to do with my love of baseball. Maybe my Poppo would be the only person with a greater impact. So plainly I can remember spending nights at my grandparent's house. I can still see the rooms in my mind. My Poppo had a white vinyl chair that sat in the southeast corner of the room next to a cabinet that had a radio. Along the East side of the room was a couch, or davenport as my Nanny would call it, I would get to sleep on this davenport, but after she would go to bed, Poppo and I would listen to the Tigers play. Poppo would sometimes pop some corn sometimes not. He also had a nice stack of magazines, old score books of games he had been to or we had been to, old year books, Ohio Farmer, and stuff to rifle through while you were listening to the ball game. It was Ernie Harwell and Ray Lane on the radio, and Poppo and me talking and looking at magazines. You know.... as I think back about it all, I don't really recall too many of the conversations. I think that is because you couldn't listen to the game and Ernie if you were talking. The station was WJR in Detroit. Mr. Harwell was a very very large part of my growing up and with my love of the game. It was extremely difficult to have him pass away.
School is winding down. Six actual days with students left.
A major argument this past week over whether or not to go to San Francisco to see #1. There is a huge part of me that does not want to go. I am so angry with his decision not to attend school, that I just can't get past it. I went so far as to say that if I don't hear from him soon, that I will cut him out totally. Total lack of communication on his part is driving me to this point. It is a huge point of pressure in this house right now. Maybe the most pressure since 1998. Not a good thing, but I find myself being angrier and angrier each moment I think about him not going to school and finishing his degree.
This post has become quite the novel. Let's just end this entry, with a couple of thoughts.
1. May 21 happens this week. It falls on a Friday. This will be only the second time it has fallen on a Friday since 1976. There will be no direct contact. That is troubling to me.
2. I detest that I don't want to go to Bryan when my father's new wife is there. I am heading there today, and I don't look forward to it in any way. Painful.
Hang tough and let's ride out the bumpy month of May. June is just around the corner.
I awoke from a particularly troubling dream. I had to have been about 16 or 17 years old, because my mom, brother, and sisters were in the dream. It took place clearly in the house in which I grew up. It started with the fact that we were up and trying to get around to go to school. For some reason, we all seemed to think that we had plenty of time to catch the school bus as it was about 6:45 or so a.m. and the bus didn't normally arrive until 7:10 or so. I was standing in front of the picture window in the living room, and watched the bus slow down.... but not really stop and found myself thinking we just missed the bus. I thought to myself, that I will have to drive in. My dad was nowhere around, but my mom said to get busy and get dressed. SO.... I proceeded to head back the hall way only to find everything in our rooms and closets either gone or stacked up. Things were old. Old as in 1970's old. I could not find any clothes to wear to school. I kept asking my mom what had happened to all my clothes, shoes, and other things. She said that we were having a sale and that some people had already come and bought things. She said that I would just have to find things from what was left. I couldn't find shoes that would fit. There were about six or seven pairs of old Converse basketball shoes. High Tops, white with a blue star and chevron. They were old and worn out, mashed down, and had obviously been stored in a box of other shoes. Never the less, I had no shoes that would fit, then I began to go through drawers to find a shirt and some jeans. Nothing.... I went back to my mom and asked her to help me. She said very plainly to me, "Don't worry, it doesn't matter." I just remember thinking that of course it mattered. I had to get to school. So I went to the back bedroom and found that it was pretty much empty of any bedroom furniture, and that what clothes were left were stacked in piles around the perimeter of the room. After becoming more and more frustrated by the lack of being able to find what I was looking for, I called out to her again and asked if Kevin, Kelly, and Jenny were ready to go. She said that they had already left. I asked her how. She said that they had started walking. At that point she came back to the back bedroom and sat down in the middle of the floor and began to cry. I asked her what was wrong. She said that Holabird's was closing in 20 days. Then she said that we were going to lose the house, because we didn't have any way to make the house payment. I plainly remember telling here that I would find a way for us all to work, even if it was something we could do from home. At that point I headed to the living room, and reached for the door knob. I glanced out the picture window and there were no cars to take. I turned around toward the kitchen and then woke up.
Now... I know that there are not any particularly radical or violent parts to that dream, but.... it is very important to say here that I don't think I have dreamed of my mother since her death in 2003. That is troubling. It is even more troubling that I had such a clear vision of her. I can not imagine what would have sparked the dream, other than when I was speaking with my dad last night in our nightly conversation, that one of the people with whom my mom worked passed away. They had worked at Holabird's together. After that.... I have no clue as to where the rest of it comes from.
Now... on to other topics. First the passing of Ernie Harwell last week. He had liver cancer and discovered that it was inoperable about a year or so ago. His voice and his passion for the game probably had as much as anyone to do with my love of baseball. Maybe my Poppo would be the only person with a greater impact. So plainly I can remember spending nights at my grandparent's house. I can still see the rooms in my mind. My Poppo had a white vinyl chair that sat in the southeast corner of the room next to a cabinet that had a radio. Along the East side of the room was a couch, or davenport as my Nanny would call it, I would get to sleep on this davenport, but after she would go to bed, Poppo and I would listen to the Tigers play. Poppo would sometimes pop some corn sometimes not. He also had a nice stack of magazines, old score books of games he had been to or we had been to, old year books, Ohio Farmer, and stuff to rifle through while you were listening to the ball game. It was Ernie Harwell and Ray Lane on the radio, and Poppo and me talking and looking at magazines. You know.... as I think back about it all, I don't really recall too many of the conversations. I think that is because you couldn't listen to the game and Ernie if you were talking. The station was WJR in Detroit. Mr. Harwell was a very very large part of my growing up and with my love of the game. It was extremely difficult to have him pass away.
School is winding down. Six actual days with students left.
A major argument this past week over whether or not to go to San Francisco to see #1. There is a huge part of me that does not want to go. I am so angry with his decision not to attend school, that I just can't get past it. I went so far as to say that if I don't hear from him soon, that I will cut him out totally. Total lack of communication on his part is driving me to this point. It is a huge point of pressure in this house right now. Maybe the most pressure since 1998. Not a good thing, but I find myself being angrier and angrier each moment I think about him not going to school and finishing his degree.
This post has become quite the novel. Let's just end this entry, with a couple of thoughts.
1. May 21 happens this week. It falls on a Friday. This will be only the second time it has fallen on a Friday since 1976. There will be no direct contact. That is troubling to me.
2. I detest that I don't want to go to Bryan when my father's new wife is there. I am heading there today, and I don't look forward to it in any way. Painful.
Hang tough and let's ride out the bumpy month of May. June is just around the corner.
posted by cpc at 5:53 AM
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