Last night when I was in bed and wide awake, I started thinking about relationships. I guess because the end of the year 2016 was getting closer and that was the date when I thought my stepmother would have found a new man. My father died in March 2016 and I predicted my step-mother would have a new man before the end of the year. This may sound uncaring, but she phoned my father a few months after my mother died and told him she understood what he was going through because her husband had just died. That was in October or November and by June they were married. My father told me he was very lonely and she seemed like a nice woman. I think she's the kind of woman who needs a man around.
They were married for thirty years. My father was friends with her first husband when they were teenagers. He never knew her. That's one relationship.
My mother and father met when they were teenagers. She married my father's best friend when she was 19 and he was 17. After her first husband joined the Army Air Force, at 17, my father and his other friends kept stopping by her apartment to talk and find out how their friend was doing. I'm sure they missed him because he was the group leader and always found exciting things to do. After the others graduated from high school and moved on, my father and a friend who was also dating my mother's sister, still kept in touch with her. When my father joined the Army Air Force himself, my mother wrote him letters, and they continued to stay friends even after her first husband and my father's friend was killed during WWII. She was a young working mother with two kids by that time. After a few years she and my father were married. They were together until she died in 1985.
They met when my mother was probably 15 or 16 and my father was two years younger. They were friends, then lovers for 50 years. If my mother had lived as long as my father did,and they had stayed together (which I'm sure they would have), the number of years would have been 81. That's another relationship.
I started thinking about the length of time couples stay together, and then started adding up in my head the number of years my parents were together. The number seemed fantastic to me. My husband and I have known each other for 49 years, and we didn't meet until college.
That is a long time. That's another relationship.
Then there are my aunts, uncles, and grandparents almost all of whom had long relationships. The same with my husband's family. It is amazing to me.
Those are other relationships.
I started wondering if our families have set some kind of record for long-lasting relationships. Probably not. It was just the times in which they lived, and the kind of people they were.
Wednesday, September 14, 2016
Sunday, March 29, 2015
No More Memoirs
I've run out of memoirs of my childhood for now and have decided to start a new blog.
I may add to this blog from time to time but I recently retired and want to focus on this aspect of my life. If you're interested, please join me at I'm Retired...What Now.
I may add to this blog from time to time but I recently retired and want to focus on this aspect of my life. If you're interested, please join me at I'm Retired...What Now.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Prayer
TV is great for gathering ideas. The other day I saw a quick image of a woman praying. She looked desperate, and seemed to be pleading with her god. It brought back all the times I had tried to plead with, bargain with, and promise anything to god so that he would help me or my loved one. I carefully tried to phrase my prayers in the form acceptable to god, that is, the form of the Lord's Prayer. This meant that before I told him what I needed I first had to praise him, thank him and glorify him. This etiquette for prayer was one reason why I started to doubt the existence of the god I learned about in Sunday School.
When I started learning about Greek and Roman mythology in school, I was taught that the Greek and Roman gods were very vain, needed constant attention, and basically acted like humans, while at the same time I was learning in Sunday School that the Christian god was a supreme being and above all those lowly human traits. This confused me because the Lord's Prayer seemed to show that my god required the same kind of attention as the Greek and Roman gods, and the Bible showed he could be just as cruel. I never did understand.
I think I was in high school when I started questioning some of my religious teachings. I wondered about this prayer thing; I questioned why my god would help some people and not others; and why he would condemn some people to a gruesome life after death while allowing others to spend eternity with him. The reasons given always seemed vague, and practically unfathomable to us lowly humans unless we had enough "faith." This faith thing is another extremely vague concept which I told people I had while trying to understand what it all meant. To make things worse, my church was the last place I could go to for answers to these questions; and I never even dared to ask anyone in my family because I always thought that to question was a sign of being weak in faith. It wasn't until I went through a few bad church-related experiences that I learned from the books I was reading that questioning and doubting were acceptable to my god, but by then it was too late. I had started to look for answers in books.
My questioning and doubting progressed as I read not only about the history of Christianity, but also about new discoveries in science. The more I read the more I became convinced that religion was nothing but a source of comfort to some people and a means of acquiring power to others. The version of what is now the New Testament was chosen by the bishops and councils of the Church because it was believed to be the one "story" that would be strong enough to unite the various factions fighting for control of what became Christianity. After reading about this bit of history I turned my attention away from religion and focused on what science had to say about the origin of the universe, the cosmos, space, etc. Science began to make more sense to me, and science answered my questions.
When I started learning about Greek and Roman mythology in school, I was taught that the Greek and Roman gods were very vain, needed constant attention, and basically acted like humans, while at the same time I was learning in Sunday School that the Christian god was a supreme being and above all those lowly human traits. This confused me because the Lord's Prayer seemed to show that my god required the same kind of attention as the Greek and Roman gods, and the Bible showed he could be just as cruel. I never did understand.
I think I was in high school when I started questioning some of my religious teachings. I wondered about this prayer thing; I questioned why my god would help some people and not others; and why he would condemn some people to a gruesome life after death while allowing others to spend eternity with him. The reasons given always seemed vague, and practically unfathomable to us lowly humans unless we had enough "faith." This faith thing is another extremely vague concept which I told people I had while trying to understand what it all meant. To make things worse, my church was the last place I could go to for answers to these questions; and I never even dared to ask anyone in my family because I always thought that to question was a sign of being weak in faith. It wasn't until I went through a few bad church-related experiences that I learned from the books I was reading that questioning and doubting were acceptable to my god, but by then it was too late. I had started to look for answers in books.
My questioning and doubting progressed as I read not only about the history of Christianity, but also about new discoveries in science. The more I read the more I became convinced that religion was nothing but a source of comfort to some people and a means of acquiring power to others. The version of what is now the New Testament was chosen by the bishops and councils of the Church because it was believed to be the one "story" that would be strong enough to unite the various factions fighting for control of what became Christianity. After reading about this bit of history I turned my attention away from religion and focused on what science had to say about the origin of the universe, the cosmos, space, etc. Science began to make more sense to me, and science answered my questions.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Ghosts, Spirits, and Visions. Oh My!
I've been thinking lately about visions, ghosts and spirits and what they are or aren't, especially since members of my family as well as other people I know claim to have had visions, and/or seen ghosts or spirits. Since I don't believe in life after death, this seems to be a contradiction in my thinking because I believe all these people saw what they say they saw. Are they hallucinations caused by stress or sickness, or are they really spirits floating around the world with nowhere to go?
I've always believed in spirits and visions, but I've since come to think that they are something different from what most people think they are. Research scientists are forever saying that we human beings never use anywhere near the total mental abilities our brains possess. We have either forgotten or never learned to use these other brain functions. If we think about animals and what they can sense, we could understand better some of what we've lost. We've all seen or heard about dogs and cats that seem to be looking at something we can't see. Could this be an example of abilities we have lost that animals have retained? We talk about their instincts which cause them to do certain things, and we're willing to believe that animals have more sensory abilities than we do. Is this the answer to why some people see things that the rest of us don't? I think so.
We've all heard of ancestral memories. I think these as well as strong emotions, emanations and thoughts left behind by people who have died are picked up by some of the people who were close to the deceased. These auras then manifest themselves as visions or possibly sounds. Even ESP may have some connection to how this all works. The people who see visions or ghosts and who hear speech or music may have areas of their brains that are more accessible to them. They may be closer to the invisible world in a way that we all were meant to be.
We have connections to space and the universe because we all come from the same place. I have always loved the song, "Fly Me to the Moon" because it represents our fascination with the universe around us, and the connections we have to it and each other. This longing for a place we don't know is probably because we all have pieces of the universe in our bodies. We come from the earth which came from the universe which makes us all connected. I believe it's these connections which continue to make it possible for certain people to experience the dead and gone. The various religions have tried to explain all of this but they have failed. All of us have this ability buried deep in our brains and someday, maybe, we will learn how to find it.
I've always believed in spirits and visions, but I've since come to think that they are something different from what most people think they are. Research scientists are forever saying that we human beings never use anywhere near the total mental abilities our brains possess. We have either forgotten or never learned to use these other brain functions. If we think about animals and what they can sense, we could understand better some of what we've lost. We've all seen or heard about dogs and cats that seem to be looking at something we can't see. Could this be an example of abilities we have lost that animals have retained? We talk about their instincts which cause them to do certain things, and we're willing to believe that animals have more sensory abilities than we do. Is this the answer to why some people see things that the rest of us don't? I think so.
We've all heard of ancestral memories. I think these as well as strong emotions, emanations and thoughts left behind by people who have died are picked up by some of the people who were close to the deceased. These auras then manifest themselves as visions or possibly sounds. Even ESP may have some connection to how this all works. The people who see visions or ghosts and who hear speech or music may have areas of their brains that are more accessible to them. They may be closer to the invisible world in a way that we all were meant to be.
We have connections to space and the universe because we all come from the same place. I have always loved the song, "Fly Me to the Moon" because it represents our fascination with the universe around us, and the connections we have to it and each other. This longing for a place we don't know is probably because we all have pieces of the universe in our bodies. We come from the earth which came from the universe which makes us all connected. I believe it's these connections which continue to make it possible for certain people to experience the dead and gone. The various religions have tried to explain all of this but they have failed. All of us have this ability buried deep in our brains and someday, maybe, we will learn how to find it.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Home with nothing and everything to do
I'm no longer working, and am I happy about it!!! No more early mornings. No more fighting traffic. No more packing lunches. No more of all those miserable things that people who work outside the home are forced to do. Although, I'm sure there are many miserable things that people who work from home could add to my list. I used to think I'd like to work from home, but now I don't think I have the discipline. I can make other people work, but not myself. I need a boss for that.
I've been trying to organize my life somewhat so that I'll get something done. What am I saying? That's the main reason I'm happy about not working. No more schedules, lists, organizing, and rules. I can do what I want and be happy about it. However, I didn't realize it would take all summer and into the fall; and I'm still not ready to settle down. My family may be wondering about me, but I don't think so. I think they understand. I've spent my life since I was 13 working at something or other and it's going to take more than a few months to let go.
One thing I have done is get my membership to a nearby gym set up, and I think that's quite an accomplishment. It involved driving to the gym and picking up an application. Then, filling out the application and driving back to the gym to drop it off. Of course, I couldn't just drop it off. The volunteer had to enter it into their online registration and then take my picture. This amounted to at least 10 or 15 min. ..a big chunk out of my day. Now, I just have to go to the gym to take advantage of all they offer, which I will do as soon as I can fit it in.
We are planning a decorating extravaganza for Halloween, and that involves quite a lot of looking ahead, something I don't seem to be able to do at the moment. Fortunately, my family appears to be taking over the whole thing, not that I've ever contributed much in the past. Just being here while all this planning is going on seems to help them, since they can ask my opinion at any time. I'll be glad when I can see the results of all their work.
Maybe by January or February I'll be ready. There's no sense in discussing the two other big holidays that occur in the months between. I haven't done much with those for years now. My husband is the take charge person for them. As I said, families are wonderful. I just hope I'm not too much of a disappointment to them but I'll worry about that at another time.
I've been trying to organize my life somewhat so that I'll get something done. What am I saying? That's the main reason I'm happy about not working. No more schedules, lists, organizing, and rules. I can do what I want and be happy about it. However, I didn't realize it would take all summer and into the fall; and I'm still not ready to settle down. My family may be wondering about me, but I don't think so. I think they understand. I've spent my life since I was 13 working at something or other and it's going to take more than a few months to let go.
One thing I have done is get my membership to a nearby gym set up, and I think that's quite an accomplishment. It involved driving to the gym and picking up an application. Then, filling out the application and driving back to the gym to drop it off. Of course, I couldn't just drop it off. The volunteer had to enter it into their online registration and then take my picture. This amounted to at least 10 or 15 min. ..a big chunk out of my day. Now, I just have to go to the gym to take advantage of all they offer, which I will do as soon as I can fit it in.
We are planning a decorating extravaganza for Halloween, and that involves quite a lot of looking ahead, something I don't seem to be able to do at the moment. Fortunately, my family appears to be taking over the whole thing, not that I've ever contributed much in the past. Just being here while all this planning is going on seems to help them, since they can ask my opinion at any time. I'll be glad when I can see the results of all their work.
Maybe by January or February I'll be ready. There's no sense in discussing the two other big holidays that occur in the months between. I haven't done much with those for years now. My husband is the take charge person for them. As I said, families are wonderful. I just hope I'm not too much of a disappointment to them but I'll worry about that at another time.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Fear
When I was in second grade, my father brought home a bike for us kids. Since I was the oldest of the last four, I was allowed to ride it more than the others. We had a long dirt driveway with a slight decline and this is where I practiced. I wasn't allowed to ride it on the street, so I rode it around our large yard. After I tired of this, I was willing to pass the bike on to my younger sisters and brother. I can remember seeing my younger brother riding it, but I don't think my sisters ever did.
When I was in fifth grade, a girlfriend who lived a few houses from me was given a new bike for her birthday. She put a price of twenty dollars on her old bike and told me I should buy it. I asked my mother if I could have it and she said I could if my friend was willing to let me pay for it in installments. So we sealed the deal and I ended up with another bike. This bike I kept for years. I actually rode it on a five-mile bike trip with some friends one Saturday, but by that time I was in high school and had found other ways to spend my time. I don't remember ever riding it again.
After I was married my husband bought me a brand new bike for a birthday present. Then he bought himself one at a police auction. We had great plans for going on bike rides together. Unfortunately, this never happened. I somehow lost my bike-riding ability after I left school. I don't know what happened, but when I tried again, on my new bike, I was very unsteady. We tried riding around the neighborhood on some back roads, and I managed to stay upright, but I never felt confident.
One day we decided to buy a child seat so we could take our young daughter with us on our bike rides. So, while I was at work one day, my husband bought the seat and attached it to my bike. When I got home, I asked him why he had put it on my bike. He felt mine was the better choice because I was home more than he was, and I might want to go bike riding with our daughter. I wasn't convinced, but decided to try it, because, how hard could it be? I should have known better. The first time we went out, I lost control going around a corner and tipped over...bike, daughter and all. Luckily, I managed to keep the bike from falling completely, so my daughter never hit the ground. I was shaken, though, and refused to carry her on my bike ever again.
Now that I'm home more, my family is trying to interest me in riding again. I'm interested, but still afraid. I recently had knee surgery and worry that I'll fall and injure my knee. However, I went with my husband to buy a bike for him, and decided that of course I could ride again. So, we bought a bike for me, too.
We brought it home but I didn't try to ride it right away; I was scared. I knew I couldn't leave it in the garage forever, so one day I finally got on it and tried to pedal. Something didn't feel right and I got right off it. It seemed as if my knees weren't behaving right. I thought maybe my muscles weren't strong enough after my weeks of inactivity, so I went online and bought a small pedaling machine. Surely, after a few weeks of pedaling I would be ready for my real bike. Who was I kidding?
I thought about the problem while I was pedaling and decided that maybe my seat needed to be higher. I asked my husband to raise it for me. Which he did. I got on the bike, started to pedal and it felt so good that I continued down the driveway. Before I knew it I was almost into the street. I quickly tried to stop but couldn't remember how to use the hand brakes. I did the only thing I could think of and put my feet down to stop the bike. Wrong move. Over I went. Again. Only this time I didn't have to worry about my young daughter, just my knee. Sure enough, I landed on my new knee.
It's been a few days and I'm back limping around the house. I'm sure my knee joint wasn't damaged; only the muscle on the left side is sore. I have a few minor cuts from the shells that I fell on, and it's going to be a few weeks before I'll dare to get back on my bike. I know, however, that I will get back on it and will soon be riding around the city with my family. Maybe. Sometime.
When I was in fifth grade, a girlfriend who lived a few houses from me was given a new bike for her birthday. She put a price of twenty dollars on her old bike and told me I should buy it. I asked my mother if I could have it and she said I could if my friend was willing to let me pay for it in installments. So we sealed the deal and I ended up with another bike. This bike I kept for years. I actually rode it on a five-mile bike trip with some friends one Saturday, but by that time I was in high school and had found other ways to spend my time. I don't remember ever riding it again.
After I was married my husband bought me a brand new bike for a birthday present. Then he bought himself one at a police auction. We had great plans for going on bike rides together. Unfortunately, this never happened. I somehow lost my bike-riding ability after I left school. I don't know what happened, but when I tried again, on my new bike, I was very unsteady. We tried riding around the neighborhood on some back roads, and I managed to stay upright, but I never felt confident.
One day we decided to buy a child seat so we could take our young daughter with us on our bike rides. So, while I was at work one day, my husband bought the seat and attached it to my bike. When I got home, I asked him why he had put it on my bike. He felt mine was the better choice because I was home more than he was, and I might want to go bike riding with our daughter. I wasn't convinced, but decided to try it, because, how hard could it be? I should have known better. The first time we went out, I lost control going around a corner and tipped over...bike, daughter and all. Luckily, I managed to keep the bike from falling completely, so my daughter never hit the ground. I was shaken, though, and refused to carry her on my bike ever again.
Now that I'm home more, my family is trying to interest me in riding again. I'm interested, but still afraid. I recently had knee surgery and worry that I'll fall and injure my knee. However, I went with my husband to buy a bike for him, and decided that of course I could ride again. So, we bought a bike for me, too.
We brought it home but I didn't try to ride it right away; I was scared. I knew I couldn't leave it in the garage forever, so one day I finally got on it and tried to pedal. Something didn't feel right and I got right off it. It seemed as if my knees weren't behaving right. I thought maybe my muscles weren't strong enough after my weeks of inactivity, so I went online and bought a small pedaling machine. Surely, after a few weeks of pedaling I would be ready for my real bike. Who was I kidding?
I thought about the problem while I was pedaling and decided that maybe my seat needed to be higher. I asked my husband to raise it for me. Which he did. I got on the bike, started to pedal and it felt so good that I continued down the driveway. Before I knew it I was almost into the street. I quickly tried to stop but couldn't remember how to use the hand brakes. I did the only thing I could think of and put my feet down to stop the bike. Wrong move. Over I went. Again. Only this time I didn't have to worry about my young daughter, just my knee. Sure enough, I landed on my new knee.
It's been a few days and I'm back limping around the house. I'm sure my knee joint wasn't damaged; only the muscle on the left side is sore. I have a few minor cuts from the shells that I fell on, and it's going to be a few weeks before I'll dare to get back on my bike. I know, however, that I will get back on it and will soon be riding around the city with my family. Maybe. Sometime.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Sunday School
When I was a young girl in Sunday School, I met quite a few religious zealots. Some were my teachers; some were respected members of the church. What they all had in common was their other-worldly aura. They seemed to have convinced themselves that the world they lived in could be disregarded in favor of the world where they would soon be living.
It was difficult for a young girl to understand their teachings when they described the heavenly home where we would all meet one day. Death meant nothing to me. Life after death was even stranger still. The names of various men from the Bible would be mentioned as people to emulate so that I too could see what they saw. It was all very mysterious. Soon I was learning about prophets who could see into the future, but it was emphasized that no one in my time could see into the future. What did it all mean? I never could figure it out, but I was given the definite impression that I should be able to. I felt that I just wasn't trying hard enough; I just wasn't praying with enough fervor to reach God and enlightenment.
I'm sure many children and even adults felt as I did. We were the failures who sat silently through Sunday School and church services and never volunteered to pray out loud. Or, when we did speak, it was to ask a question that made the church leaders look askance at us so that we knew we had failed again to understand. I remember asking to join a church when I was an adult, and even though I was a member of my childhood church, and had fulfilled all the requirements needed by that church body, this new church group questioned my faith and my worthiness to be a member of their congregation. These were both Christian churches and supposedly followed the same precepts but the second group was apparently closer to God. They did eventually approve my membership but I never really felt that I had made the grade. I felt that I was not connected to God in the way they were, and I never would be.
After a few years I left that church, and never attended another church. I was determined to find a church that was true to the teachings of Jesus, because I was still under the impression that I really believed in those teachings. It never occurred to me that my thinking was way off base because most religions use a form of brainwashing to keep people coming back for more. I didn't realize this until years later when I woke up and saw that the whole idea of something out in space somewhere who controlled us all was nothing but a gigantic fairy tale perpetrated by people in power. Somewhere along the way the brainwashing didn't take and I kept asking questions which no one could answer except with meaningless platitudes. Now, I seethe inside when people repeat those platitudes without thinking, but I have to control myself from speaking out because I know they will never listen to me. And, in some cases, people need those fairy tales to help them get through life, and I can understand that.
Unfortunately, my mother was one of those, and she is the reason I continued trying to believe in her religion for so long. I didn't want to believe that the woman I loved and admired had been taken in so easily. She was usually one to question most things she was told, but not when it came to religion. The only answer was her desire to be accepted by her in-laws whom she depended upon. Then, after her husband was killed, she had another reason to keep believing: she wanted to be sure she would eventually be able to spend eternity with him. I don't fault her for this, and I'm glad she had something to hold onto through the difficult times ahead.
It was difficult for a young girl to understand their teachings when they described the heavenly home where we would all meet one day. Death meant nothing to me. Life after death was even stranger still. The names of various men from the Bible would be mentioned as people to emulate so that I too could see what they saw. It was all very mysterious. Soon I was learning about prophets who could see into the future, but it was emphasized that no one in my time could see into the future. What did it all mean? I never could figure it out, but I was given the definite impression that I should be able to. I felt that I just wasn't trying hard enough; I just wasn't praying with enough fervor to reach God and enlightenment.
I'm sure many children and even adults felt as I did. We were the failures who sat silently through Sunday School and church services and never volunteered to pray out loud. Or, when we did speak, it was to ask a question that made the church leaders look askance at us so that we knew we had failed again to understand. I remember asking to join a church when I was an adult, and even though I was a member of my childhood church, and had fulfilled all the requirements needed by that church body, this new church group questioned my faith and my worthiness to be a member of their congregation. These were both Christian churches and supposedly followed the same precepts but the second group was apparently closer to God. They did eventually approve my membership but I never really felt that I had made the grade. I felt that I was not connected to God in the way they were, and I never would be.
After a few years I left that church, and never attended another church. I was determined to find a church that was true to the teachings of Jesus, because I was still under the impression that I really believed in those teachings. It never occurred to me that my thinking was way off base because most religions use a form of brainwashing to keep people coming back for more. I didn't realize this until years later when I woke up and saw that the whole idea of something out in space somewhere who controlled us all was nothing but a gigantic fairy tale perpetrated by people in power. Somewhere along the way the brainwashing didn't take and I kept asking questions which no one could answer except with meaningless platitudes. Now, I seethe inside when people repeat those platitudes without thinking, but I have to control myself from speaking out because I know they will never listen to me. And, in some cases, people need those fairy tales to help them get through life, and I can understand that.
Unfortunately, my mother was one of those, and she is the reason I continued trying to believe in her religion for so long. I didn't want to believe that the woman I loved and admired had been taken in so easily. She was usually one to question most things she was told, but not when it came to religion. The only answer was her desire to be accepted by her in-laws whom she depended upon. Then, after her husband was killed, she had another reason to keep believing: she wanted to be sure she would eventually be able to spend eternity with him. I don't fault her for this, and I'm glad she had something to hold onto through the difficult times ahead.
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