I found one of my journals from when I was in the hospital in 2004. Here is an entry:
During Relaxation group today, we did a guided meditation. I immediately thought of a good memory as a focus for relaxation. Before Cathleen and Paul first left for Asia and I think while they were still living in Texas, we rented a cabin at Creekwood during the winter holiday season. Cathleen and I went skiing while Paul and Mom relaxed at the cabin.
I have the best sister. She has a remarkable level of commitment to her work where she lives in Asia. She and her husband are doing a super job of raising two kids in a foreign land. She has weathered serious illness in the past few years (dengue fever mainly), but still keeps on going.
And she has had enormous amounts of patience with my peculiar illness and nature. There are two people in the world that I know love me unconditionally. . .my mother and my sister. And they know I love them in the same manner.
So here is a brief 'Happy Birthday' to Cathleen. I'm glad you are my sister. I can't wait 'till you all return to the States for furlough, where we can play in the snow. That's right. . .there will be snow. Even if we have to travel to Maine to see Aunt Laura.
Yay for sisters! Have a great day! :)
For me, the holiday season is more about the people and less about the presents. Don't get me wrong. . .thoughtful presents are always nice. It may just be that I'm getting older. It may be that my family and I don't have the financial resources we used to have. It may just be that I'm tired of all the holiday hype.
Sounds simple doesn't it? It's all about the people.
My sister shared a story with me the other day. It seems that my niece and nephew were talking about me and how I am tall. Not understanding yet that people stop growing at a certain age, they were discussing what would happen when I kept growing. They concluded that I would simply bust through my house and that I would have to *really* duck when going through doorways.
A few years ago, my nephew was traveling with his parents. They let him see the 747 from the airport window, then asked him which was longer: me or the 747. Guess what he chose?
Ok, my face is burning as I write this. You see, I still have stuff at my mother's old house. . .so does she. I haven't been able to go get it because of my stupid neck.
All very well and good. The new owners are family and have said not to worry about it. But today, their parents decided to help clean house. They went through my stuff and found a poster I thought I had thrown out.
Can you guess what it is?
Thanks brother. For being concerned, for keeping me company for not giving up on me.
Thanks mother. For unconditional support, for the little things, for the big things.
A significant number of people spend time trying to get their lives out of the closet. Today, I spent approximately nine hours helping my mother get as much of her life into the closet as is possible.
There just isn't enough space.
The youngest of sixteen children, my maternal grandmother emigrated to the United States in the 1920's. She passed through Ellis Island, and was met by her older sister Theresa. . .for whom my mother was named. Ultimately, she would become a citizen, meet my grandfather, and have three children.
Among the siblings she left behind was her brother, Eugene Lawrence O'Sullivan, or Eug' Larry for short. He had a reputation for two things: he never had a cross word to say, nor did anyone have one to say about him; and he was a man who liked a drink.
Very busy times around here. Tomorrow, the house which has been home to my immediate family for 27 years will no longer be ours as my mother completes its sale. It will pass to the next generation as it is bought by my sister's niece and her husband. I couldn't imagine anyone else I would want to have it, care for it, or continue to cherish it.
Eh. Spent most of yesterday catching up with myself. The giant sponge of ECT has soaked up much of my short-term-memory. I said the giant sponge of ECT has. . . . .
Fortunately, I am a verbose fool. . . .who writes a lot. So I read just about everything I had written over the past several months: e-mail, blog entries (published and non), thread entries on websites, private journals, etc.
