Tag: Memories

I Hate Moments Like This

I just read a news article talking about where the biggest free agents in Major League Baseball could be signing during this off season. The article predicted a couple of big names signing in Boston. I don’t know if that’s going to happen or not, but my first thought upon finishing the article was to send it to my father.

Shit.

I still have moments like this with my mother. Moments where I think to mention something to her only to then remember that she’s gone. Now I have to deal with things like that for my father too. He’s only been gone for about four months. It seems like yesterday, but also it seems like it never happened. I guess for both of my parents the reason it seems like it never happened is because I want it to have never happened.

I hate moments like this. I expect I’ll be hating them for the rest of my life. I miss my parents. This xmas is going to be tough.

Send Me Back

Jen asked me if I could find a picture from one of our trips to San Diego. I found it quickly, but now I have to spend the next three months reliving the various trips via my Flickr account. I’ll see you all again after I work it out of my system… or after I get back from my upcoming totally unplanned, spontaneous trip back there.

2012-04-24 - Point Loma and San Juan Capistrano 168

Bones

Daily writing prompt
Have you ever broken a bone?
View all responses

I’ve broken a bunch of bones in my time. Only one as an adult. Let’s see if I can remember them all.

  • When I was in first grade I broke my first bone. We were sledding on Munster’s Hill in Tewksbury, MA. Don’t look for it, it doesn’t exist anymore. I was on a circular sled thing and bombing down the epic slope. I hit a bump and grabbed some air. The sled spun off to one side (I think it turned left, but it was 1977 or so, so who knows) and I kept going straight. I landed on my right shoulder and broke my collarbone. I had to wear a brace for three weeks.
  • The second broken bone incident happened when I was in seventh grade. This will put us in or around 1983 or so. I was in the driveway in front of the Tewksbury Junior High School, which is now called the Griffin Middle School, I think. If the weather was nice we could step outside in front of the school for the last few minutes of our lunch period. There were a few of us killing time together. As were we being herded back inside a girl in our group whose name escapes me at the moment was walking in front of me. For some reason she stopped short and elbowed backwards. Someone must have said something stupid or something. It might even have been me, but I doubt it because I would have been utterly terrified to talk to a girl, even if she was a friend. I put up my right hand to block her elbow and she caught it just right. A bone in my right pinky finger’s knuckle broke. The doctor said it was on the growth plate, whatever that means, so there was some question whether or not my finger would have trouble growing as puberty took over, but it all worked out fine. I had to wear a splint for a few weeks.
  • Fast forward to eighth grade and we’re in gym class. We were outside behind the Junior High School and the class was playing football. I was tossing a ball back and forth with someone else, I don’t remember who, and because I suck so badly at all things football I caught the ball funny and broke a bone in my left ring finger. After the previous year’s experience I knew exactly what happened the instant it happened. I walked over to the gym teacher and told him I needed to go to the nurse because my finger was broken. This one also required a few weeks in a splint.
  • This is the last one and it’s embarrassing because I am a stupid idiot. It was 1997 or 1998 or so. I was an adult which is part of why this is so embarrassing. I was in the kitchen at my parents’ house in Tewksbury. I was going to make a tuna fish sandwich for lunch. I don’t remember what else was going on, but I was definitely having a bad day and was super stressed out over something. I was back in college by then and was probably worked up over a test or something. I opened up the can of tuna and stood over the sink to drain the water. I pushed down on the cover to squeeze out the water and some of it splashed up onto my shirt. It was the idiotic straw that broke the camel’s idiotic back. I threw a very brief temper tantrum. I turned around and punched the wall. What a douchebag. I broke a bone in my right hand just above the wrist. Moron. I didn’t have health insurance at the time so I went to a walk in clinic where the doctor laughed at my stupidity and put me into a cast. Like I said, moron.

And there you have it, folks. My personal broken bones history. Normally I wouldn’t share my personal medical history, but given how often I write about my weight loss surgery I would say that no one is getting anything out of this crap that is any worse for sharing than any of that stuff, right?

The moral of the story is… keep your temper under control and don’t be stupid and punch walls. Don’t be an idiot, like me.

Sad Moment of Forgetting

Two days ago the daily writing prompt thing asked about our favorite subject in school. I wrote a little snippet about my favorite subject in Kindergarten being The Letter People. I couldn’t remember if The Letter People (anthropomorphized cartoon letters of the English alphabet) were cardboard cutouts or inflatables.

As I wrote about not being able to remember I thought to myself that I would ask my mother if she remembered. She did some volunteer work in my Kindergarten class.

Of course it took a few milliseconds for me to remember that my mother is no longer with us. She passed away about nine months ago. That was the first emotional kick to the groin. The second came another millisecond later when I thought that it had been years since my mother’s dementia would have allowed her to recall something insignificant like this from over 40 years ago.

I don’t know why I am posting this. I told Jen about it yesterday because it made me sad and I try to share my feelings with the woman I love. Now? I guess I just miss my mother.

Stop Lights

This used to be the chain you pulled to turn on the lights at my father’s aunt and uncle’s place in Brighton. It was my second favorite part of that apartment. My favorite part was Uncle Jimmy’s little model trollies (he drove the trollies on the Green Line in Boston). Those are on the mantle in my living room.

Happy Birthday, Mom

We celebrated my mother’s 75th birthday today.  Everyone wish her a happy birthday!

My Aunt brought a couple of old pictures with her.  There is a red head in this one who is the spitting image of my nephew… 

 
Look at that handsome devil!  He and my nephew could be twins!  Who is that fine looking dude?  It’s me!  Can you believe it?  My sister’s son and I are twins, just 40 years removed.  Not sure how the logistics work there though.

Now check out this happy family snapshot…

  
The fine looking dude in the coat in the center of the pic is once again your humble narrator.  I’m standing on my dad’s lap.  My mother is to our right.  My sister is photo bombing on the lower right corner.  Behind me is my aunt Nancy.  I assume the guy whose face is blocked is Uncle Tom.  The other happy couple is the really important part of this picture.  They are Nana and Papa.  My mother’s parents.

I was at Middlesex in my late 20’s when my grandmother passed away.  I was fortunate enough to have such a stellar person in my life for a very long time.  My grandfather however passed away in 1972.  I was only a year old.  Obviously I have no memories of him, but I knew that I had met him at least.  I always had that.

Now thanks to this picture I have proof.  Aunt Nancy brought this today to show how much my nephew resembles me.  I don’t think she realized that it would mean so much to me for another reason.  I’m very thankful she brought it.  It’s got to be one of, if not the, only picture of me and my Papa.