Dinner...

I've been invited to go over to Richard (my son) and Abigail's (DiL) to have dinner tonight. I have purchased the bottle of wine I'm going to 'bring with'. But still, I wonder if I should just stay home... I don't know why I'm such a hermit but it's nothing new with me. I've always been a hermit; nothing to do with any particular people but sometimes for days on end, I find ways to amuse myself all alone... or talking on the phone and ignore 'real' people. A failing in me perhaps....

I bought two new pairs of Spring flavored shoes last week - online, of course - so I'll wear my sparkly zebra-striped Skechers skimmers. They're very cute and will perk up my attitude possibly and make me feel conversational to the other guests.

Must remember not to talk about politics, adoption, Canada or my family... I'll just nod appropriately as they say things and ask questions. Hope that works because there's nothing I hate worse than leaving the party and wondering why I said what I said... then thinking of what I should have said instead of what I said. That can bug me for the rest of the evening and make it hard to get to sleep. Paranoia... yep, I've got it.

I had a bad dream that woke me out of a deep sleep last night. Seldom I remember dreams but I remembered this one. Snowy landscape, cleared road leading to a large new house with smoke coming from the chimney... someone is telling me that the man hit his son on the head with a hammer repeatedly and he's to stay away from his family. We enter the living room where there is a 30-ish dark-haired woman on the sofa... she turns to look at us as we enter and greet her. The fireplace is burning. A 8 or 9 year old blond boy comes into the room. I wonder if he's the one who was assaulted. He won't meet my eyes. I turn to look at the woman and suddenly the fireplace explodes in flames and smoke making it hard to see. A loud voice tells me that the boy did it and a man with a hammer is in the smoky room... and I think "That's why he did it." I wake up scared out of my wits and can't return to sleep easily. My heart is beating fast. Oh, and the woman spoke French... we were in Quebec. Yikes... what is going through my mind to dream that?

Anyway.... into the shower with me... off to dinner!

Continuing on...

My mother died on March 3rd. She was almost 94 years old and had been having mini-strokes for years. Six weeks before she died, she had another while she was walking down the hall at her assisted-living residence and she fell. She was unable to walk or talk after that, or feed herself, or sit up... basically, she lost most of her functions. When she was returned to her residence, it was to the full-support floor and her day started at 8am when she was fed and wheeled in her bad to a sunroom, where she spent all day until 5pm. At 5pm, she was wheeled back to her room. So, it was difficult to hope she would remain alive under those circumstances. Poor mom... I just know that she wouldn't have wanted to die the way she did - slowly over a period of years. Anyway, I am now motherless. But, since mother didn't recognize me since 2003, I suppose I've had some time to get used to that feeling. I wasn't sad when she died like I was sad when my father died.

Age may have something to do with a person's sadness level. I was 42 and an emotional wreck (because of a lot of things) when dad died.... page ahead 26 years and mother's death was almost anti-climactic... to me. Maybe not for my brother who took care of her for so many years. He must miss her.

I have to post more often. There are a lot of things happening in my life that I want to talk about... and lots of things not happening, or happening to other people that I want to talk about too. But I'll save some of that for later. It feels good to be back after a long, dry spell.