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Renovation, Rejuvenation, and What Counts

An Online Journal / Diary

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Monday, April 23, 2001

A Much Needed Visit with my Mother

 

The best part of today was:

My driving Sonny and myself to my mom and step-dad's house located about twenty miles nearby in Littletown.

Plus, I went to the doctor's office and learned my blood pressure was back to normal, thanks to the meds I am now taking. (Taking meds ain't that big of a thrill for me though, but I have to appreciate it is most likely saving my life.)

What I did today:

Morning:

Read online journals.

My doctor's appointment was at 10:45 PM. I drew on my portrait of the singer/musician, Greg Brown, while I was waiting for my doctor to see me.

I made up a weekly Life Planner page where I check off the stuff that I need to be doing on a regular basis. I need to organize my time well so I have more time for my kids, my art, my music, and this journal/diary.

Noon:

I worked from 2 PM until 6 PM, only 4 hours, but I was supposed to have the day off. The grocery store where I work is taking inventory and the extra help was needed. I didn't mind too much. I didn't have to check out customers the whole time. I got to head for the dairy cooler and prepare all the dairy products so the manager and assistant manager could easily count it.

Evening:

I arrived home cranky tonight, and Sonny who is taking an unexpected, extended break from Job Corp, suffered as a result. I picked up my payroll check and as usual it wasn't as much as I hoped it would be. I'm started worrying how in the hell I was going to make it from check to check now that I had another mouth to feed.

As I think about this now, I feel assured that somehow I always more than survive. I have so much to be thankful for.

But I didn't feel that way last night.

I started bitching up a storm and Sonny didn't like what he was hearing. I was in asshole mode and I knew it. I have a surefire remedy for this. It is called cognitive therapy. (See the book, Feeling Good: the New Mood Therapy by David D. Burns.) But did I make it to my offline journal and give reason to all my irrational behavior?

No. I ranted on and on spewing forth some nasty remarks that should have never been said.

Finally Sonny walked in my office/studio here and caught me with my head in my arms down on my desk. No, I wasn't crying. I was too depressed to cry. He put his arms around me and hugged me and said he was sorry. Now he has some reason to say he's sorry. His recent behavior at Job Corp led to his return home, dammit, just when he was about to get his high school diploma.

But I had bigger reason to apologize. When I start to worry about money, it's like backing a wild animal up into a corner. I strike out (non physically) at whomever is close by.

Naturally I hugged my son back, and told him, no, it was I who should be sorry. I love that kid so much. And it is nice to have him home. And he is trying hard to get back on his feet again (such as making an appointment to talk to someone at the unemployment office, and going to the high school to find out how much credits he still needs to graduate.)

With me then feeling much better we then readied ourselves and climbed into Bernice and listened to Dave Mathews tunes all the way to Littletown. Dave's music is one Sonny and I both like despite the generation gap. (We also both Eric Clapton.)

Mom was surprised to see us, yet happy. Clyde, my step-dad, didn't recognize Sonny; it had been so long since he last saw him. (Sonny calls Clyde, 'Grandpa,' and I like that. It always seems unnatural for me to call him 'Dad' though. Nevertheless, I still kiss and hug him on occasion and tell him I love him. And I do.)

My mom wanted to feed us, naturally. And even though I had just eaten a Healthy Choice microwave dinner back at Creekview, I stuffed myself on some warmed up spaghetti and a ton of her famous potato salad. We sat at the kitchen table, and caught up on the latest goings-on, even though it had only been a week since I last visited. Mom and I both teased Sonny about his new girlfriend and we laughed and joked throughout our time there.

After my emotional outburst earlier it felt really good to be with my mom tonight. I know the outburst was born out of fear. I feel safe at times when I'm with Mom. She's helped see me through a lot of tough times in my life.

I guess it goes to show you a forty-seven year old man still needs his mother.

(I was going to write: 'still needs his mommy' but man, that sounds wimpy!)

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