My Father Confesses.

I had never heard this story before this past Halloween night.

My dad confided in my son, my son repeated the story to me, and I immediately understood why my childhood had been filled with irrational fears and neuroses, why our hearts were always heavy with dread.  Why we were convinced something awful was about to happen, every single day of our young lives.  And awful things did happen.

Because of his story, I had an epiphany.  My baffling anxious ulcer-inducing childhood made complete sense.

My father was ten years old, out on Halloween, trick or treating with a friend.  They were both in costume.  My dad wore a mask.  He and his friend each carried a paper bag to collect candy.

As he and his friend left one house and walked along the sidewalk to the next, a blue sedan screeched to a halt beside them.   A big man jumped from the car and hit my dad in the head, tore his mask from his face, and dragged him into the backseat of the car.

He abused him, beating him, threatening him, holding him hostage for fifteen minutes while my dad, bleeding from his mouth nose and ears, screamed, cried, begged and pleaded for his life.

At last the man let him go.  My father ran home and told his parents but they didn’t believe him.  They assumed he’d been in a fight.  Nobody called the police, even the other boy (who ran home in a panic) had been too terrified to tell anyone.

And now what was clouded becomes clear.

I spoke with my dad and of course my mother chimed in with these words of wisdom:  “We’re lucky your father is as good as he is.”

Well, she is right.  If something like that had happened to me I’d never leave the house.  On the other hand, my dad limped along most of his life as though nothing had happened.  But it weren’t pretty, I tells ya.

Wow.  Just… wow.

Tomorrow – My mother’s logic of the convoluted.

 

 

 

 

 

So it happened again.

I felt a need for oblivion.  You see… my family… they…

Well, when I am forced under certain circumstances to interact with my extended family I feel a need for mind altering substances.

You shoulda seen me when I was a teenager.

Well, maybe not…

So I was feeling this last night in a wish I had a perfect knee so I could get addicted to running again kind of way.  I checked the wine fridge thingy and all we had was one cheap-ass (Tim, kind of like weird-ass) bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, not my fave, and a bunch of Cabernet.  Good Cabernet as in save for special occasions Cabernet.

I stared for a while.  I opened the liquor cabinet and stared in there too.  Over the years people have given us all kinds of gifts, sweetish sorts of beverages with labels that say Peppermint Schnapps and Chocolatinis and Metaxa, whatever the hell that is – none of which I can stand.  So I gave that a pass.

Then I remembered the bottle of Talisker up on top.  Ah yes – fragrant, smoky, peaty, bitey (is this a word?)… bought in Scotland.  How can you not drink something that calls your name in a Scottish brogue?

I poured myself a glass and added a little water, cuz hubs says water opens up the Scotch – makes it bloom, he says.  It does smell really good.

So I took a sip, and yes, it was good, but the phone rang.  I ran upstairs to get some information for one of my kids, chatted for about fifteen minutes, and when I returned to the kitchen to retrieve my glass of Talisker, what should I find but a glass full of drowned fruit flies.  Apparently fruit flies (which spontaneously generate you know) have a hankering for expensive Scotch.

So much for oblivion.  And no, don’t worry, I didn’t drink anything.  I’m not given to alcoholism.  I’ll be all right.  Drinking is no solution, it’s simply a distraction.

Families.  Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.

Especially at holiday time!

I should be so lucky!

 

 

I have this vision of spontaneously combusting…

I’m experiencing one of those episodes when I feel out of control.  Not just a little out of control, a whole lot out of control.

Oh yikes.

My dreams have been insanely vivid, totally crazy, my waking hours equally crazy, my dog scraped up one of his pads chasing after a hawk – yeah, like he was really gonna catch him.  The hawk found the whole thing hilarious.

Oh shit, someone will probably come and remove Jake from my home due to my poor oversight as his guardian.

I went to the grocery store three times this morning to buy sugar.  I forgot to buy sugar all three times.  I still need sugar.  Have to get all my holiday baking done this week between trips to Oregon.

I am going to make – Melt In Your Mouth Cookies, Heart Attack Bars (sorry dad~ but at least you didn’t have a heart attack), Chocolate Cherry Cookies, Chocolate Croissants and two Chocolate Sheet Cakes.

I’ve got to get a week’s worth of meals made for my parents, and I should probably double up on that so my family has food to eat while I’m traveling back and forth.

Um, I’m worried my hair will start to fall out, or go pure white, or something.

My husband’s birthday is 12/12/12 and we’ve had a house on hold in Monterey, right on the beach, for an entire week – room for all of us – where we can celebrate and party hearty.  I’ve been planning this since his last birthday.  We’re taking a private behind-the-scenes tour of the Monterey Bay Aquarium, maybe some of us will enjoy a day of golf, and whale watching, and scuba diving, and sailing, and kayaking – all the stuff we love to do.  Fingers crossed that I get to be there.

This is what I looked like a month ago:

Me, a month ago.

This is what I look like now:

Me, now.