Dad

My relationship with Dad was rocky, but we ended up having a fantastic relationship. I’m very grateful that he’s my father.

“Dad will always be
the first man I ever loved.”



I’m going to share a funny little story with you that will probably be a bit embarrassing to my mother, but she will get over it. I mean, what choice does she really have anyway because I’m writing it now and she won’t read it until later. I know. I’m bad.

Before I tell you the story, I just wanted to share a couple bullet points with you:

  • April 4th would have been my dad’s birthday if he was still alive. I didn’t post anything about it because this year I missed him even more than I did last year. I feel like he has been gone so long. I miss having him call my phone and tell me a stupid joke everyday and his silly laugh when he was amused with himself. I didn’t really have a lot of time with him because of his life choices, but I’m so thankful that during the last seven years of his life we did have a relationship. I guess when you love someone, no matter how much time you spend with them, it just won’t ever be enough. Love is so wonderful, but so painful sometimes. I miss you Dad.
  • I have to clean Turtle’s tank this weekend and I’m dreading it already. Someone please come over and do it for me. LOL
  • It’s almost time for the Mr. Sweet Potato Head reveal. You’re gonna be so shocked.
  • I went to the dentist this week. Let’s just say that this was a HUGE accomplishment that I’ll share with you at another time.
  • This week I also went to therapy again. She told me that I need to give myself more credit and pat myself on the back more often. So I’m going to blow my own horn now. I’m doing fantastic on my PTSD recovery. It isn’t easy. Actually, it has been quite painful, but I’m not going to quit until I am totally healed. Alrighty then…the horn has officially been blown.

Now let’s talk about kisses. I would prefer to be talking about the kisses that involve soft lips pressed together, but today I’m referring to the chocolate candy kisses by Hershey. I’m sure you know the kind I mean – chocolate dew drop shaped, covered with foil with a thin tissue weight paper sticking out the top with the word “Kisses” on it.

one kiss two kiss

It was a hot summer month years ago. Mom was in the passenger seat of the car and I was driving. I think we had gone shopping together, but I don’t really remember. Anyway, Mom loves Hershey’s Kisses and was eating them while we were together.

Eventually it was time to take her home. When Mom got out of the car, I saw a huge spot on her pants. It looked like she had pooped on herself, so I told her to wait a minute and come back. I looked down at my car seat hoping to figure out what had happened.

In the middle of the fabric seat was a huge brown spot and flattened silver foil paper. Oh my gosh! Mom had been sitting on a chocolate Hershey Kiss and because she is a wiggle worm, the chocolate was ground into the fabric of the car seat and her pants. When I say, “ground” into the seat, I really mean it was totally melted and smooshed into the fabric.

Cleaning the chocolate out of the fabric was a nightmare. It took me for-ev-er to get the seat totally clean. It HAD to be totally clean or chocolate would always be transferred to everyone’s tush when they sat in the passenger seat!

Because of this incident, Mom has a rule in my car. Yeah, Mom is not allowed to eat any chocolate in my car. Over the years, this incident has been the source of much laughter, but it has also made me examine a few things too.

  • I have a sense of humor. Actually, after writing Bare Your Fruit – Bathing And Showering Together, I believed I had a great imagination too.
  • Life is a series of good times, mishaps and bad times. The difference between us is how we handle them.
  • Chocolate is a nightmare to get out of a fabric car seat.
  • My mother is always in constant motion. This isn’t a criticism. It is just a fact.
  • Part of the reason I feel like I must always be “accomplishing” something is because my mother has always been in constant motion.
  • I also feel like if I’m not “accomplishing” something, I’m not lovable. I know. This one is a bit stupid, but I’m trying to be honest.
  • Don’t sweat the small stuff. Chocolate melted into a car seat is not equal to losing a loved one, having a heart attack or getting a divorce. My ability to keep things in perspective has dramatically improved since I got PTSD. Losing my mind and getting it back (that’s what it feels like) caused me to see things as they really are and to focus on reality. I have learned to just be quiet and let go. I can only control what I can control.
  • I give people lots of chances to get things right – more chances than most people even think about giving. There is a point, however, when I can’t take the pain any longer and I let go. Unfortunately for me, I give people too many chances when I love them. Working on fixing a marriage for seven years even though the other people aren’t actively participating in improving the relationship was so wrong for me. Yes, I did the same thing in two marriages. In retrospect, I should have said, “One kiss, two kiss, you blew this.”

See? I did learn.

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