Change

Today I was sitting here pondering some things.  Okay, it just hasn’t been today that I have been pondering.  What am I pondering?  Change.  Though people say change is good, this girl goes CRAZY.  If anyone has seen Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory, I get what he is saying.  You can’t wear your Tuesday pajamas on a Thursday!  One of my big “changes” is seeing Shaun on a Friday.  During his first semester, Wednesday was the perfect day.  He didn’t have school and I got out of work early.  When his next semester arrived, I began to itch and get flustered trying to figure out what day was best to see him, since it now could not be Wednesday.  Shaun had asked me, “Well, why not Friday?”  My response?  “Well, because it’s Friday and I can’t come down on a Friday because I am sure you have plans on a Friday because you are 19.”  Shaun’s response?  “Okay, that doesn’t make sense but whatever.”

What am I leading to with all this nonsense?  The reality that an even greater change is coming to my house this summer.  While other students will be returning to their homes, my student is remaining in Chicago and moving into another apartment.  I can’t even sell him on the fact we have a POOL, because his apartment complex has a pool. So as the realization that Shaun will probably not be spending a lot of time here in his room, the worst part of this entire “change” thing is he will be taking his bed.  Why is this a big deal?  Well, a bed has occupied his room in this house since he was in 2^nd grade.  Even now, I like to open the door and look around.  Nothing has been touched since he went back to Chicago in January.  The new reality will soon be opening that door, looking in and seeing emptiness.  Well, if that doesn’t just kick a mom in the stomach. 

Shaun has been in my life since I was 23.  It is difficult trying to wrap my mind to pre-Shaun.  Where was I pre-Shaun?  Working in downtown Chicago.  What was I doing at the age of 20?  Well, I lived by myself.  Hmmm, there is something familiar here.  But this is different!  I mean, he’s my son! 

As I sit here and ponder my thoughts I have to keep in mind that when I was Shaun’s age, I wanted to start my life, too.  And maybe also think that there is another round of living to do with my life. 

Music...taking me back

As we all know, I am an AVID music lover.  I love all kinds of music and my collection varies from metal to classical.  Anybody who comes over is likely to find something that will make their toes tap.  Rumor has it, from a very reliable source; I would take a stool, put it by the living room stereo and watch the records play.  I would also sit by this stereo, take a 45 record and move it back and forth while singing.  I was my own personal jukebox. 

I had a realization yesterday when I was listening to the radio.  None of the new songs “take me back.”  You know what I am talking about.  A song on the radio that makes you remember….takes you back.  Since I am “old”, I was also wondering if the “take you back” only is when you are young.  Our lives are so busy when we are older and  there are so many things we have to keep track of, as adults, I am finding it quite sad that I don’t have remember moments for the “new music.”  Here are some examples of my “take me back” music.

When I went to my grandma’s, there was an entirely different type of music to listen to.  My grandparents had the old 78 records that you needed a crane just to pick up.  Ok, slight exaggeration.  I can close my eyes and see the three that I always had to play.  A yellow label was on this particular 78, and the song was a canary singing.  The blue label was the song September Song.  And then there was Riders in the Sky by Vaughn Monroe and His Orchestra.  I did find these on the computer; however, there is nothing like watching the 78 spin, crackle, and pop.

Magic, by Pilot.  Still love this song, as well.  I was in 1^st grade, and a kid I went to school with would ride around on his bike with a radio attached to it.  When he stopped by my house, Magic was playing.  This is what I envision whenever I hear this song.

When I hear Starlight Vocal Band’s Moonlight Feels Right, it takes me back to the summer before entering 3^rd grade.  This was the summer my brother was hit by a car.  Even though the accident was not a good thing, I still love the song.  When my brother had come home from the hospital, I remember playing it since this was “the summer song” back then.

When my husband and I got together, the song that was on rotation on the radio was Dreams Can Come True.  Perfect tune for the both of us, as I had wanted to go out with Andy forever.  We have known each other since the 4^th grade.  There were various proposals of marriage in high school, all of which he stared at me with big blue eyes and was on one knee.  I never said yes until 10 years out of high school.  See, dreams do come true.

I also can’t forget John Lennon’s song Beautiful Boy.  I used to sing this to my Shaun when he was a baby.  How perfect the last line in the song mentions the name Shaun.

I could go on and on, but I think you catch my drift.  It kind of saddens me that I no longer have these “song moments” to bring me back.  However, I am glad that I do have music to take me back.  Even though we all need to push forward into the future, it is nice to close your eyes and go back in time.

Flares, flares, FLARES!

Meds to move

This is the real me.  

Flares, flares, FLARES!   It’s been awhile, so I guess it is time.  But I am not ready.  As I write this, the pain has traveled up my arms.  Forget about my feet.  The Frankenstein walk is very becoming and sexy.  To add to the mix, headaches.  Good times.

I need to go grocery shopping, but somehow I don’t think that will happen.  Just exhausted.  No amount of sleep helps because all you want to do is sleep.  Even going to bed at 7:30 at night just doesn’t give you enough sleep.  I hate to see when I am older. 

I have said it before and I will say it again, thank goodness for the kids at school.  They keep me moving and focused on them for the school day.  When the day is over and I have to go home, I collapse. 

One of my beautiful friends is able to control things naturally.  I know she sometimes still has a hard time though.  I wish I could do what she does; however, when I try to get off things all hell breaks loose.

I also worry about Shaun.  Already he is dealing with going to doctors, all having various diagnosis’.  How frustrating.  I know how he feels because I have dealt with this my entire life.  He was always a pretty healthy child, and I hope it continues into his adult life.  Hopefully this recent thing is just a bump in the road.

What is it like to go out?  I have no clue because I am too exhausted to do anything.  Sad…but I have learned that I have to do what is right for me and listen to my body.  Even though I hate what it says sometimes. 

Here is to all of us out there dealing with this crap.  May we gather strength from each other, be it face to face or through cyber land.

Epitaph

An epitaph is a short text honoring a deceased person.  Maybe other people, besides me, have wondered what would be said at their funeral.  Or, if you are like me, wonder would anyone show up?  What would be said?  Here lies Kathy, beloved mother, daughter, and wife.  She was accomplished in……   In what?  If you were to ask me, I have accomplished nothing.  Take that back.  Shaun is one of my accomplishments.  He is everything I wanted him to be…independent and strong.  Which is a good and bad thing.  But Shaun is Shaun and will be fine.  Every time I see a picture or hear his music, I smile.

Me, on the other hand, I don’t know.  I guess the empty nest thing can really get you thinking.  I look around and just don’t know.  If I walk into the light this second, what would it be like?  Can I really say I have done and accomplished great things?  Not really.  Yes, I had a child; however, so do a lot of other women.

I have heard people say death is not a scary thing.  To me, it is.  If I think about it, I get in an emotional turmoil.  My heart beats quickly and I panic.  I think to myself, “You have not accomplished anything in your life.  Nice job.”  But I really shouldn’t worry because I won’t be here anyway.  Dust to dust, right?

When I think about things I want to accomplish, it would be just a dream.  When I was younger, I was a type of powerhouse.  I wanted to be the best in everything I did, and if I didn’t I would try until I did.  Playing 2^nd clarinet was not good enough, I must play 1^st chair.  I must be drum major.  Those things happened because I pushed myself.  When I was younger, a much better epitaph could have been written.

Even Mozart wrote his Requiem, which is beautiful and what I am listening to now.  But Mozart was somebody.  I am……..???

Bringing It Back

Nothing screams style more than skirt pants.

My mom is a smart lady.  She has always said that all styles come back around.  As I look in some stores, to my horror, the 80’s attire smacks me in my face.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved the 80’s attire.  I think back then the more obnoxious the better.

Way back in the 80’s, big earrings were the “it” thing.  When I see the big earrings on display now, I was shocked that they were so light weight!  When I wore big 80’s earrings, back in the day, your earlobe would practically be down to the ground they were so heavy.  That didn’t stop us 80’s girls.  We wore them and didn’t complain.  Well, we wore them and maybe there were some complaints, but we kept it to ourselves.

You would think with all the bandanas that were owned, there were many teens who were working hard labor jobs.  Jobs that needed those bandanas to wipe brows from the sweat that was dripping from foreheads.  Yeah, right.  The bandanas were for style.  Not the red and blue ones, those were too boring.  They were striped like a tiger or leopard.  Sometimes, they were fluorescent.  Instead of wiping our brows with them, you could see many a male wearing them on their leg or arm.  Or, if they were in a band, they were hanging gracefully from the microphone stand.  Don’t even THINK about wiping your sweaty self with one of these.

How about those jeans?  Stonewashed, whitewashed, a little bit of this and that washed.  You didn’t wear them for comfort, you wore them tight.  I remember many times lying on my bed zipping up those jeans.  Sometimes, I would even have to put a safety pin on the inside just to make sure they would stay closed.  I did a lot of standing during those days.  Why sit and be comfortable?  The point was to look good.  If you sat, you ran the risk of safety pins breaking open, your fly flying open, and your gut going through the opening of your jeans.  Nothing says sexy like your stomach poking through.

The best for last?  Hairspray.  The bigger the hair, the better.  Aqua Net was the choice, but I also added Stiff hairspray.  I could have gone through a hurricane and tornado combined and my hair would have stayed.  Doing your hair was dangerous with these hairsprays.  All I can say is, thank goodness the flaming shot was not popular back then.  There would have been many hair fires to put out.  Yes, I was one of those people who burnt their hair.  My friend Maureen was having a party at her house.  I went into the bathroom to check myself, lit my cigarette and then asked myself, “What the heck is that smell?”  You guessed it, the bangs caught fire.  Just a little though and I needed a trim anyway.  Washing your hair the next day was always a treat.  With all the gunk on my hair, I would have to wash it twice.  Then, I would repeat the whole hairspray thing after the cleaning.  I am sure my hair was saying, “Why is she doing this to me?  She does a spiral perm and then weighs me down with this stinky hairspray!”

So as I sit back and watch the styles come back, I will continue with my no perm straight hair with just a touch of hairspray.  The picture of me is in one of my 80’s attire, again back in the 80’s not now.  Oh how cute the little skirt over the pants were; however, I will take my sweats for comfort any day.

Let's go on an adventure

If you ever feel like going on an adventure, feel free to come with me to Chicago.  I must add, the adventure is also with my parents.  Be prepared to bring snacks, your Ipod, your blinders, and Imodium.  I love my parents and once we get to our destination all is well and fun is had by all.  Key word is “get.”  Let me take you on the journey. 

Ah, Chicago.  A beautiful city full of one way streets and traffic.  Thank goodness for the Dan Ryan or the Toll Road.  An easy drive to get downtown.  No worries.  Wait, did I say thank goodness for the Dan Ryan or the Toll Road?  I am sorry, my bad.  You see our “adventure” begins by going on Route 41, or the beautiful and scenic route of Indianapolis Boulevard.  Oh, sure.  My dad tries to trick you into thinking you are taking the toll road; however, let’s exit onto 41 shall we?  Why not?  Let’s be adventurous.  After all, we are going on an adventure today.

Now, let’s take a Type A Personality, like myself, who loves a routine and just wants to get from point A to point B with no problems.  Mix this Type A person with the whispers from the front seat of the car saying, “Is this the turn?”  What do you get?  A stressed out Type A personality who has now brought out a cross and is praying the rosary.  Nice picture, right?

My parents can be nostalgic, which I know I am, too.  However, if I have to pass by a few hookers to go to a place where I used to frequent as a youth, you can bet I won’t.  Here is a story my parents tell me every time we venture down good old Route 41: “You know, Don used to live around here.”  Key words, parental units, USED TO!  As in, no longer do they live there.

As my parents are having a great time down memory lane, I continue to pray the rosary.  I also added my brown paper bag to breathe in and out of.  Too bad the car doesn’t have an oxygen mask that just pops down in case of an emergency.

Another thing I have heard numerous times during our adventure is:  “Wow, look at all the buildings boarded up,” or “These streets are in horrible shape.”  YOU THINK?  Gee, I wonder why they aren’t fixing those streets.  After all, you should have smooth pavement for the police officers to bust up that drug deal on the corner.  AND, for the firemen, they need to put those fires out prior to boarding up the buildings!  Duh!

We do always end up at our destination; however, instead of 30 or 40 minutes, it takes about an hour.  In case you didn’t know, the Dan Ryan and Toll Road do not have stop lights; however, the scenic route of Indianapolis Boulevard has plenty of stop lights for you.  The lights take about 10 minutes to change, so you have many photo opportunities to share with family or to post on Facebook.  Instead of looking at Cellular Field on your way to Chicago, you can look at the different groups hanging out on the corners or catch the people drinking out of a paper bag.  Do my parents know these people could want my oxygen mask, a/k/a brown paper bag, and try and take it from me!

I think you get the picture.  This is why I enjoy the train.  No worries.  They take you from point a to point b with no problems.  So, people, I ask you, why take the expressway and risk traffic when you can go the Cabrini Green route and risk being shot at?  Happy travels!

Dedicated to my mom and dad, the world’s most adventurous people I know.

Christmas is OVER

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.  Or in my case, thing in the wall, thing on the floor, thing in my slipper, and thing in Shaun’s dresser.

As quick as Santa put a finger on his nose and up the chimney he rose, Christmas is over.  Where did it go?  I say this every year.  We hustle and bustle and as quick as we hustle, it is done….over….caput.  I do have to say, I am one of those people who wants everything down right after Christmas.  The cute decorations are not so cute and seem to be closing in on me.  My Mickey Claus and Minnie Claus now have their arms outstretched in a zombie like way, and moving in a menacing way.  All these cute decorations NOW look like clutter!  I know I am not alone.  Some may admit, some may not and just nod their heads in agreement.

So it goes, another Christmas over and another year gone.  Christmas doesn’t have to be just a once a year thing.  I like to think I have Christmas in my heart all year long, where it counts.  Spending time with family and friends throughout the year.  Knowing it is not the monetary presents, but your presence that counts.

This brings me to my final thought.  COME ON SUMMER!  Bring on the sunlight.  Get rid of dark thirty already.  J