M is for Memories

*I read over my last blog and decided to tackle just one topic. All of you said to go and just spend quality time with my dad. Focus on the good stuff, i.e reminiscing over the good times. I was set because I had a plan. I got thrown for a loop when I saw my dad for the first time. He looked really sick. Grey. Thin. Frail. However, I bulked up my internal reserves and pushed through. I don't think I have shared this, but I have my father stuck in my brain at 45 years old. I know that it is unreasonable, so it is always a shock when I see him and he doesn't look 45. Since I am in my early 40s, this is particularly unrealistic, but I can't help it. Each time I see him, I go running to the mirror, because he is OLD, and that means that I am OLD, and it makes me look for signs of aging anywhere and everywhere. Eyes, eyebrows, frown lines, hair. Yeah, I am a girl. This time I got sucker punched and couldn't make the trip to the bathroom. I had to sit down. Anyway, I made it out to see dad every day but one. *It quickly became frustrating for both of us. The thing is that I don't think my father suffers from senile dementia. I don't think that that his memory issues are a result of the cancer. I think that adrenal episode that he went through back in 1978 did a lot of damage. He didn't get migraines. His symptoms are different than mine. But the whole thing is otherwise the same. Except for this: he was in a chronically stressful situation at work that finally brought him to his knees. It took him about a year to get over it by living in a non-stressful environment and taking a boatload of vitamins. I lived in a stressful situation for three years (clearly I have a harder head and didn't really understand what I was doing to my body and my recovery time) and five years later my adrenal gland is still barely hanging on. *Fast forward for my dad: that one year plus the year or so of chronic stress has wiped about forty years of his memories. How do I know this? Because all of this reminiscing that I was looking forward to in order to get me through this enormous heartbreak was denied me. Instead it became an exercise in frustration and irritation. I would say something like, "Dad, do you remember the time I learned to drive the stick shift car and I kept stalling it out in the driveway? It was hilarious. Even the neighbors came outside to watch the show." And he would say, "No. I don't remember that." And I would say, "You were the only one brave enough to come outside and get in the car with me. That was until I shook up your insides sufficiently that you couldn't stand it anymore. Remember now?" He now gets agitated. "No. Don't remember that. I drop it. So, I would pick up another one. And it was always the same. No. Don't remember. No. Don't remember. Finally, I asked him what he remembered. It was precious little. Not enough to converse about. *However, he seemed to remember a lot about his childhood. Well, that was a good thing because I had a bunch of old photo albums from his apartment that needed labeling. Well, that got old REAL fast. It didn't take long at all. He always recognized his father and brother and my Uncle Jerry. After a while, I got good at recognizing them, too. I was more interested in his grandfather, grandmother, uncles, and aunts. He didn't do so well there. And after about a day he was tired of that. Unfortunately there were three boxes of pictures. So, what I hoped would lead to lots of stories of his childhood was just another annoying project. He was frustrated because there were people he felt like he should know. And then there were people that when I found his dad's obit that he didn't know at all (like an uncle), he was super annoyed. Mostly it was really hard to know that my father forgot just about all of my childhood and young adulthood. *That being said, he remember just about every episode of the Dukes of Hazard. So, we watched TV. And then it occurred to me that was what we did most of my childhood. All of the vacations that I tried to get him to remember, the activities I was involved in, etc. Well, they just didn't take up the same amount of time as the time spent in front of the TV. My dad loves me. With his whole heart. I know that. And I love him. With my whole heart. But he will never really know me. And I will never really know him. He spent his whole life keeping the world at bay and he succeeded. *There is a lesson here. And I don't think we have to look too hard to find it. *If you are a friend of mine, keep telling me about our shared memories. *I don't want to forget you or what we have. This blog is becoming more and more important by the day. I don't want to forget my life. Even if I have to read it like I am reading about someone else. I figure the only plus side is that all of those people that make you have to scrape out your brain because they end up doing something mean in the present, and you can't quite shake them because you have ties to them. Well, you might forget them entirely. There is always a silver lining. I have been listening to the ACM Awards on and off. I did catch Sara Evans and her new song. I kinda think that it might be off of the Country Strong soundtrack. Don't quote me on that. I am going to look for a video. That song was pretty awesome and hits the spot for Inspirational Music Sunday. Maybe by next weekend, I will have the MTV part rolling, too.