title explained

Onward and upward! something that you say in order to encourage someone to forget an unpleasant experience or failure and to think about the future instead and move forward.

My e-mail: jjmiller6213@comcast.net

Sunday, October 18, 2015

Placated, I Suppose

e-mail from Karen:
"How about we communicate via phone or in person? It's much preferred, I think, to be able to communicate well.
I hope you know you can call me anytime. I might not always be able to get to my phone, but it is always great to hear your voice.

Be well, Mom, love you"
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She's right of course!  
Usually though when I get the emotional crack-ups, it is at the end of the day, and I have stewed about them for hours.
One of the worse things of living all alone.
No one to talk to at the moment I need to bounce ideas off them.

Sometimes I remind myself of Dar!!!
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I feel a bit vindicated--well not vindicated, but like I am not totally losing it.  When I told Pearl about what the women said at the lunch, her mouth dropped open.

"You mean...they all knew before you did?"

"Yes."

"I'd be mad too.  That's just not right!"

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Magic.

Tonight, there was magic or something I don't understand in the air at the University of Michigan Stadium, in A2.

Score:  UofM--23.  MSU--21.  10 seconds to go.  10 SECONDS!

Michigan had the ball.  4th down.  They decided to punt the ball and put the Spartans backs against the wall.

Spartans put all 11 of their men up on the line.

The Michigan punter muffed his kick.  A Spartan name J. Watts-Jackson, grabbed the fumble, ran up the field and as the clock ticked to 00.1, ran into the end zone.

Spartans win 27-23.


I was making the same face as this kid, except I was jumping up and down screaming, "I DON'T BELIEVE IT.  I DON'T BELIEVE IT!!"

The Spartan kid that took the fumble into the end zone for the win, is in the hospital with a broken hip.

The Michigan punter that muffed the punt is getting death threats.  Idiot people in A2!
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John called at half-time wanting to know what the score was.  He does not have Cable TV--he has a TV with an antenna so he couldn't watch the game.

I invited him to come over and watch the last half.  He and Maisey came over in about 30 minutes.  I had made Apple Cake so I gave him a hunk, warmed up with some vanilla ice cream on top.

He sat on the couch and I sat in my chair and we yelled and screamed and had such a good time.

Remember me saying a while back that I wished there was a place where I could hire a guy to come and watch a ballgame with me?  I got it and it only cost a piece of Apple cake.

We had a ball!!
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You know, the sad thing to me is, Michigan had the game won.  All that punter had to do was take a knee and give State the ball on the 50 yard line and we wouldn't have had time to score.  But because the head coach, or one of the other coaches, wanted to cram that loss down our throats, they made an error in judgment.


Friday, October 16, 2015

Me and My Shadow.

Geez oh Pete!  

I guess it will just be better if I refrain from telling my children ANY of my feelings.  My friend thought it might be good for me and them, if I were a bit more open with my kids.  Expressing my feelings of the loneliness I feel being excluded from their lives, or that I'm not as independent as I try to make them think I am.  Trying to get back that close-knit family that used to be.

I had lunch with my high school gal pals Thursday.  I hadn't been the last two months.  I figured now that I know my son's cancer treatment is going well, I'd tell them that he has cancer, BUT he is doing okay. When I made the statement, they all started nodding their heads.  Come to find out--they have ALL known since late July.

One of my friends said, "I think we all knew before you did."

Apparently, when my ex went to his class reunion, he told all his friends.  Some of the same friends I have lunch with.  So, while I was absent from the lunches, this was discussed and apparently they all knew I was not to be told.

So, when asked, "Why didn't your kids tell you?'  or "Why didn't Mark tell you?"  I tried to brush it off with a flip,"Mark didn't want anyone to know and they know I would blab it all over."  Ha Ha.

What I really felt was complete embarrassment.  Who else in this group has family problems that are kept from them?  None.  How long has this group been gossiping about me?  What else don't I know?

When you have known people since the first day of Kindergarten, they have a certain perception of you.  I think that perception remains to this day.  We kind of expect each other to talk and act like we always have--since high school on.  Since I am not close to any of them, except Beth who I had already told about Mark, I almost felt like a couple of them took pleasure in the fact that they knew before me.

Like their ages old perception of me had changed.  No longer was I (incorrectly) perceived as having this tight, close-knit family that shared all.

I don't know.  Perhaps I am being paranoid.  I've had a lot of that lately.

Anyway, later last evening, I told my girls of what had happened and I hoped something like that never happened again in our family--that I was left out.  

Then I shared with them that lately, I have felt left out about a lot of things.  I feel kind of excluded from their family get togethers.  I don't really know what is going on, until after it is over.

This IS a new feeling, brought on 2.5+ years ago when I posted something that a cousin told Jen about and made Jen angry at me.  It's like the kids have hardly any desire to communicate with me since then.  None of them visit very often.  I think they no longer trust me.  We used to be so close.

I thought I was gentle when I voiced my feelings, but Jen blasted me!  Whoa--did she blast me.

She said that no one in our family has any respect for me.  That Mark didn't really care who knew of his cancer, just so I never knew.

Her anger comes from the idea that she looked at my blog post, after the cousin told her what I had written--well no, the cousin called my step-sister's husband to tell him and the step-sister told Jen--anyway, Jen said my blog numbers showed I had 3,600 views and that meant 3,600 people had read my post that day so, 3,600 people saw what I wrote about her.  She was going to sue me for defammation of character.

3,600 people?  I have tried to explain to her--three times now--that 3,600 "views" does NOT mean that 3,600 people read my blog that day--or any other day for that matter.

Is there a blog anywhere in this world that gets 3,600 views on one day?

Actually I went back and looked and that day, 2.4 viewed my blog post and no one commented.  None of my readers, except my cousin, even knew Jennifer!

She just refuses to listen to me.  She may be a high- fa looting attorney, but she sure doesn't know a damn thing about blogs--or what the numbers mean.  Personally?  I have never seen the numbers and don't even know where to find them.  So, I don't know what they mean either.  HAH.

Anyway, Jen is really mad and told me that all the women in my lunch group have been smiling to my face and gossiping behind my back for years.  That may be the truth.  I don't know and really don't care and really--could not care less if I ever attended another of their lunches.

Karen pipes in and says if I want to blame someone, blame Mark.

I was told by both that they didn't want any more e-mails from me.  

No where in my e-mail to them did I blame anyone!   I don't think I sounded angry, and I especially did not make any sarcastic comments.  But then once again, in a written missive, you can't see the person's facial expressions or hear their voice inflection, so--I guess they read the words and that was their perception.  

So, once again, although their Dad was the "blabber", it somehow is my fault?  Or, I shouldn't feel embarrassed that everyone in the county knew before me?  Or it's none of my business what they do together?

Because I am always totally afraid that I might say something wrong, when they DO visit or tell me something, I sit very quietly and just nod or say "oh?"  I'm so afraid of stepping on those damn egg shells.  I ask permission before I post any photos that I may be in, with them.  I try not to post too much on FB of anything because I have been told, I post too much crap and it clogs up their FB pages. 

I feel like I am living under parental control again!

So, my relationship with them probably isn't going to get any better--at least not with Jen.  I finally did get a bit angry and told her that she had no right to talk to her mother like she talks to me!  

GEEZ oh Pete!  

I never disrespected my abusive father or my horrible step-mother.  Why can't she give me the same courtesy?  She can dislike me all she wants, but she doesn't need to call me names and write such mean things to me.

Anyway--it is what it is.  I think now you can see why I don't ever ask them for help?

Just put me in a damn home and forget about me.  NO--I would never tell them that, but often, that's the way I feel.
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BUT--I have learned a lesson here--NEVER express my feelings, when I am sad, frustrated, tired--at the end of an emotionally charged day. 

Really--I think it wise, never to express my feelings at all to any of them.  Just smile and nod. 

I should have taken an Ativan and gone to bed!

Geez oh Pete!

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Explanation


I posted this on Face Book this morning.  Most of you probably have no idea what it means.

It is just part of the pre-game trash talk that goes on this week.  Saturday, the two major universities in Michigan play a football game against each other.  University of Michigan versus Michigan State University.  It is a big deal.  Inter-State rivalry and all that.

Over the years, I have heard the term "Arrogant Asses of Ann Arbor" ( where the University of Michigan is located.)  It was funny and we all thought a bit of truth.  Over those years, they had beat Michigan State over and over and over, ad nauseum.  They even called us "little brother" of the State.

I lived most of my life near Lansing, where the land grant Michigan State University is located.  Of course, I was a fan of that school, had spent some time there and loved the open, green campus with the beautiful river running through it.  The campus in Ann Arbor is more in the midst of the city.

When I moved down here, 20 minutes from Ann Arbor, I heard people talk of "A2" or "A Squared".  What the heck?  It was explained to me that it mean Ann Arbor.  2 A's?  A squared?

Well,--Lah Dee Dah!

Then I met a few people from Ann Arbor and knew that my preconceived idea of their arrogance was in fact--THE TRUTH!  They appeared to be a bit haughty.  Many of them live in Brighton, work in Ann Arbor and the whole town of Brighton, appears to be haughty.  Even the sales clerks appear to tilt their heads back and look down through their glasses at you.  Ask anyone who lives in Howell, 3 miles away and they will agree.  Probably why I prefer to shop in Howell.

So--then I met Fred.  He lived somewhat close to A2 and had been dating women from the town.  He was in the process of taking down his on-line dating site profile when I accidentally found him.

Later--when I asked him why, he said, "I wasn't having very good luck.  I don't quite meet the standards of Ann Arbor women.  At first, it was fine, but when they found out I had no large amounts of money to spend on them, or take them on trips to Europe, they soon lost interest."

Oh sure, these ladies were pleased to be seen at their exclusive clubs, walking in on the arm of a tall, very handsome man, but when they found he was not a professor, doctor, lawyer or a man with money, they dropped him--although, of course, they kept him as a friend, just in case they needed a handsome escort.

At Fred's funeral, I met one of those "friends".  She walked up to me with her condolences, introducing herself, "I'm so sorry for your loss.  I am one of Fred's friends.  Judy Mason.  Judy...with an "I"."

Judi?  Jew DI?

I have a friend named Judi, but she has never gone as far as telling people, "Judi--with an I."  

And this A Squared woman was sort of head up, looking through the bottom part of her glasses at me.

Well--Lah Dee Dah.

"I live in Ann Arbor.  I'm a realtor.  Maybe we can do lunch sometime?"

I already knew she was a realtor just by looking at her.  Perfect make-up, put on with a trowel,  Perfectly arched eyebrows.  Perfect manicure.  Expensive clothes and shoes.  A2 at it's height.

As she walked away, dabbing at her eyes with her perfect lace handkerchief, my thought was, "She must be wondering.  'How did Fred end up with such a yokel.' "
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So, this week, that "city south east of here", as I refer to it, is on their best Arrogance Asses performance.  They have a new coach and he is weird, but his loud, crazy actions have spurred on the team and the entire town.  They KNOW they will win on Saturday, and they very well might.  Although we have trounced them the last six out of seven years, we Spartans always live with the knowledge that times can change.  We still being of the mind that we are "little brother" in this State.

If we do win, will any of us Spartans rub it in?  Nope.  Never have.  Never will.

Trash talk the week before is all part of the fun as we go back and forth, ribbing each other.  After the game, if they win, we will hear about it for the rest of the year.  

ARRGH!  Arrogant Asses of Ann Arbor!!!!!
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P.S.  I'm in trouble with Jennifer---again!!!


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Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Yawn

Well--you all have enlightened me!  Thanks for that.  I do like knowing of how you all have met some of life/relationship problems and resolved them into goodness.

Again, my perspective comes from my background.  On my Mother's side of the family--Methodist minister's for 5 generations.  It wasn't talked about, but "assumed" that we would all marry Protestant's and preferably Methodist's.   My Mother probably would have been tickled pink if I had married the Baptist preachers son!

Just an aside here--a memory.  The kids I knew that were Baptist, weren't allowed to come to any of the school dances and they didn't play cards.  What the rest of us noticed however, on any class or band trips, especially on the way home, the Baptist kids were in the back of the bus necking like crazy!  Us Methodist kids were up in front playing Euchre.  HAH!

On our second date, I asked Fred.  "I know you live close to Ann Arbor and usually date women from there.  Who do you root for in sports?  Michigan or Michigan State?"

He answered, "I root for Wisconsin."

"Who do you root for when Michigan and Michigan State play each other?"

"Michigan State.  I can't stand those arrogant people from Ann Arbor."

Needless to say, he was a keeper.  In my weird brain, I would have MORE problems living with someone who was a Michigan fan, than living with someone who was a Catholic or Democrat.  HAH!  I am so shallow!
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Okay, I gotta ask.  This probably only pertains to you living north of the Mason/Dixon line but....I have been so lethargic for the last couple of weeks.  No gumption nor energy to do anything.  I would like to snuggle into my bed and sleep for the next 15 hours!  

I don't know if it's because the darkness is coming earlier and earlier each day or if it's from the cooler weather, but I just want to hibernate.  I have to push myself to do anything!  Twice in the last two weeks, I have fallen asleep in my recliner at 4:00 each time.  I NEVER take a nap  I find myself yawning during the day.

I don't remember going through this last fall.  I wonder what could be causing this.
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Flu shot today.  It didn't hurt and so far, my arm is not aching.  That's about all the energy I could extend today.  

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Thoughts

I am way off base and probably completely wrong about a marriage being "easier" if the couple are alike in their beliefs.  My thoughts coming from what was perceived back in the 1950's, and where and how I was raised.

Nowadays, with more people going to college and meeting and having friends from diverse backgrounds, there is not such a problem with what we would have called "inter-marriages".  I just worry for my grand daughter.  

Her younger brother was in love with a Baptist girl.  They were so in love with each other.  Her family had practically disowned her because she was dating a Catholic.  They went together three years and were talking of marriage, but the girl would not convert.  Their relationship ended, she went back to her family and, after another almost three years, he is still devastated.  If he had ONLY dated Catholic girls, there would not have been that problem.  Other problems perhaps, but not the religious one.

And yet, I know of a couple who went against their families wishes and married, she Methodist, he Catholic.  They had six children.  She raised the girls Methodist, he took the boys to Catholic services.  They were married 60 years and very happily.  There may have been some worrisome influence that their children felt though, because the Catholic boys married Catholic girls and the Methodist girls, married Methodist boys.

And yet, my first husband and I were alike in all things.  We had known each other from 6th grade on.  We attended the same church in town, both alike in politics and backgrounds.  Look how that turned out.  Even after 27 years of marriage, it ended in divorce.

So, it's not that I am prejudiced against these kinds of relationships and marriages.  It's just that I worry about my grandchildren.  I want their lives to be smooth and easy.  Which, of course, no ones life can ever be. However, she will be transferred to Washington, DC in another few months and so I should quit worrying about the boyfriend, who will remain in Michigan and worry more about her living in DC!
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Something that I found weird.  Back, when I was in high school.  I was helping my mother clean her bedroom one day and as I rearranged her under wear drawer came upon a book entitled, "What To Do If Your Daughter Dates a Catholic".  

I was a Sophomore at the time.  There were two Catholic families in our school.  All the kids younger than me.  Why did she think she needed to read that book?  Maybe in case I went on to college and got all crazy and met <gasp> a Catholic boy?

Little did she know, I wouldn't have dated a Catholic.  Heck, I wouldn't have even dated a Baptist!  At that time, I thought Catholics worshiped graven images and Baptist's were way too preachy.

And now, my three daughter's are Catholic's, five of my grandchildren are Catholic and the other four are Lutheran's.  

What is the difference?  We all worship the same God.

Still, if I were to date again, I wouldn't date a Baptist or a Catholic or a Jew, or a black, or a Hispanic, Italian, a man who drank, or was a University of Michigan fan.  My friend John is Nazarene, Italian/Polish, UofM fan, so that leaves him out.  HAH!    

I hit the jackpot when I met Fred, a non-drinking, farm kid from Wisconsin, German, Methodist, Republican, MSU fan. Just like me.  Maybe that's why we got along so well and never had one disagreement? :-)
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I have to tell you--remember Dar coming over and telling me I HAD to check on her Dad every day he is staying with her?  Well, last evening John was out walking his dog and Dar saw him.  She said, "My Dad is coming to visit me for three weeks.  Whenever you are out walking the dog, go up and ring the bell and check on him."  then she walked away.

John said, "I was so flabbergasted I was speechless.  I don't know her Dad...I don't even know her that well, but........she sure is a bossy one, isn't she?"

"Yes."

"She didn't even ask nicely...she just made a demand and I am suppose to obey."

"Well, she told Merle and Pearl the same thing and me too."

"What is her problem?  I'd hate to have to live with that!  I'd hate to have to work with someone like that.  I don't even want a conversation with someone like that!  I think Maisey and I will take our walks around the other way so I don't have to take a chance on ever seeing her again!"

Yes--she is a piece of work for sure.
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Last, but certainly not least--good news here--Cindy, my son Mark's companion called me at 2:00 just to let me know that yesterday Mark had more blood tests and another MRI and---his cancer is receding!!!  When he was first diagnosed, his PSA number was 20.  I don't know much about prostate problems, but the number is suppose to be around 4.  After being on the treatment in pill form since end of July, his number has dropped to 6.8!!

The oncologist was ecstatic!  Nowadays, the doctor's can put together different drugs specifically for the person's genetic codes.  What is working for Mark wouldn't necessarily work for another man.  It's amazing what can now be done to personalize cancer treatments.

He was surprised that the pills hadn't made Mark ill or weak.  Mark feels great.  He walks two miles everyday and has felt just fine.

Needless to say, we all are over the moon and very hopeful.  No--I don't think he will ever be "cured", but he very well may be able to be on a maintenance program for many, many years and have a normal life.

I might add, one good thing about having an attorney in the family is all the sources Jennifer has at her disposal.  When Mark was first diagnosed, she called around---many phone calls and recommendations until she found one of the best prostate cancer doctors in this area.  He is also involved with Cancer Treatment Centers of America, so he is very "up" on the latest treatments.

I have been a bit lethargic and down in the dumps lately, that news just put a smile on my face and a PRAISE GOD song in my heart!!!!!

  






Monday, October 12, 2015

Sunday-A Perfect Day

I rode up to The Farm with Karen, her oldest daughter Helene and Helene's boyfriend.  They wanted to pick apples.

While they were busy, I walked in the fields and around the barns and part of the woods.  For some reason, it was very emotional for me.

After we left, we stopped in at Pammies.  While they were all in the living room talking, I sneaked the basement door open and sniffed.  It smelled just like it did when I lived there.  Then I went outside and into the barns--they smelled the same as they did when my Grandma lived there too.

We got into the car and I had tears in my eyes.  So many memories.  Deep sadness that I didn't live there anymore.  Sadness that my divorce probably caused me to not be able to live there still.

Karen said, "Are you okay, Mom?  You haven't said a word since we left Pam's"

"Yeah.  I'm just tired."  I kept my face turned toward the window on my side of the car.

"Are you crying?"

"Nope.  I was out in the barns and I think my dust allergy is kicking up."
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By the way:  My grand daughter Helene is a devout Catholic.  When I saw a picture she posted on FB of her and the boyfriend, I clicked onto his page.  His family is Orthodox Jew.

From my experience, these kinds of relationships usually don't work out.