This year I was really dragging my feet...I mean really digging in and not getting them done for some reason.
Then yesterday, I swallowed deep and started the process, about ten minutes into it, I realized the reason behind the procrastination.
As I waded through travel receipts and generally reliving 2009, piece by piece I came across the gas, Ez Pass and food receipts from all the trips back and forth to visiting my dad as he laying dying in the hospital in Atlantic City, and finally in Philadelphia.
I realized it had been awhile since I woke up and his passing wasn't the first thing on my mind...and now it was all rushing back.
Here are the receipts for the coffee and oatmeal I had each morning with my sister as we drove through Margate on the way to the ICU in Atlantic City.
Here are the receipts for coffee on the turnpike.
It's all filtering back how my cold hearted stepbrother piled up all my father's belongings in the corner of the living room and told us to come get them.
How awful it looked, his life tossed in a heap in the corner by the front door...
Here's the Sam's Club receipt in Linnwood where my sister and I bought boxes and bubble wrap and tape...my stepmother contributed $20 then asked for it back, she thought it was extravagant to buy packing supplies....she never complains about the price of gin as I recall.
It brings back all the secretiveness in their actions, and the unkind words they spoke. I won't go in to details, and you don't want to hear it.
As I'm doing my taxes I can still hear my stepbrother loudly declaring, in between gulps of a cocktail in the largest tacky plastic cup I've ever seen, how Obama was not going to raise taxes, especially on the middle class, and what an idiot I am for thinking differently...wait til he does his taxes next year, and starts paying the VAT tax too...I guess I do have some satisfaction here.
This is the reason why I was stalling, somewhere deep in the great subconscious of my mind, where I keep these things under lock and key...my mind was sending out an SOS...don't go back there, it's a sad reminder.
Here are receipts for my father's memorial, the flowers we ordered to float in the ocean with his ashes during his Naval funeral ceremony.
Here's the Sam's Club receipt in Linnwood where my sister and I bought boxes and bubble wrap and tape...my stepmother contributed $20 then asked for it back, she thought it was extravagant to buy packing supplies....she never complains about the price of gin as I recall.
It brings back all the secretiveness in their actions, and the unkind words they spoke. I won't go in to details, and you don't want to hear it.
As I'm doing my taxes I can still hear my stepbrother loudly declaring, in between gulps of a cocktail in the largest tacky plastic cup I've ever seen, how Obama was not going to raise taxes, especially on the middle class, and what an idiot I am for thinking differently...wait til he does his taxes next year, and starts paying the VAT tax too...I guess I do have some satisfaction here.
This is the reason why I was stalling, somewhere deep in the great subconscious of my mind, where I keep these things under lock and key...my mind was sending out an SOS...don't go back there, it's a sad reminder.
Here are receipts for my father's memorial, the flowers we ordered to float in the ocean with his ashes during his Naval funeral ceremony.
There's the receipts for framing his WWII medals, the photo montage we made, the week we spent at Ocean City saying goodbye....
So I decided to counteract it all and put on Frank Sinatra, my dad's favorite ...and I am trying my best to not think about the callousness of our step relations...in fact this is a bit of a lesson for step families...if you don't like them, don't go to their funeral or if you do, shut up and let others grieve.
People who study the brain say we hold more bad memories because of the emotional process that happens when we experience something bad or traumatic, it's deep in the brain stem ...so we actually have to work at choosing the good ones...and I'm workin' here.
More counteraction, I think about my sweet Aunt Sis and Uncle Jim who welcomed us in their home and fed us and let us stay with them while my dad was in care in Philadelphia for patients on ventilators. Their home was an extension of our family, with family photos everywhere, and books on the family history...
I choose to remember the sweet friends and family who travelled so far and showed up at the funeral and my friend Janet who sang, her beautiful voice filled the church...and our cousin Patty and Aunt Sis, who spoke so elegantly from the lecturn.
Here's the receipt for all the big band music I purchased on iTunes to play at the reception after the funeral.
I catch myself smiling as I write this...this whole choice thing is working.
Well, now Stardust is playing and Frank is singing, and I am healed just by hearing this beautiful music . ..and I am holding the thought in my heart how thankful I am that my dad played this music and it filled the house when I was a child.
I am choosing the good reasons behind the reason...
And the receipts of 2009 and the unkind times are melting away into a Stardust memory, just like they are supposed to.
So I decided to counteract it all and put on Frank Sinatra, my dad's favorite ...and I am trying my best to not think about the callousness of our step relations...in fact this is a bit of a lesson for step families...if you don't like them, don't go to their funeral or if you do, shut up and let others grieve.
People who study the brain say we hold more bad memories because of the emotional process that happens when we experience something bad or traumatic, it's deep in the brain stem ...so we actually have to work at choosing the good ones...and I'm workin' here.
More counteraction, I think about my sweet Aunt Sis and Uncle Jim who welcomed us in their home and fed us and let us stay with them while my dad was in care in Philadelphia for patients on ventilators. Their home was an extension of our family, with family photos everywhere, and books on the family history...
I choose to remember the sweet friends and family who travelled so far and showed up at the funeral and my friend Janet who sang, her beautiful voice filled the church...and our cousin Patty and Aunt Sis, who spoke so elegantly from the lecturn.
Here's the receipt for all the big band music I purchased on iTunes to play at the reception after the funeral.
I catch myself smiling as I write this...this whole choice thing is working.
Well, now Stardust is playing and Frank is singing, and I am healed just by hearing this beautiful music . ..and I am holding the thought in my heart how thankful I am that my dad played this music and it filled the house when I was a child.
I am choosing the good reasons behind the reason...
And the receipts of 2009 and the unkind times are melting away into a Stardust memory, just like they are supposed to.
....
