Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Today is Wednesday..you know what that means?

I woke up at 4:00 this morning.   I'm annoyed.  How's this for my first Wednesday whine?  Splendid.  At first I believed I could fall back to sleep but it became quickly apparent by the ache in my mouth that I spent the better part of my drugged evening clenching my teeth.  Drat.  Then it was necessary to take another drug - in this case, Extra Strength Tylenol to relieve the pressure.  I have no shame.  I hide no information.  I'm a wuss.  I'm a hater of pain, a pill poppin' cry baby.  I'm solely responsible for keeping the major pharmaceutical manufacturers profitable.

Segue into the clenching teeth explanation.  My curious let's-take-it-apart-and-see-what's-inside autistic 14 year old found my husband's watch.  Yes.  Correct.  A new battery is no longer necessary.  My lovely anniversary gift to Eric is now in pieces on our bedroom nightstand.  There is no recovery as our son merely "popped it open with a hammer".

I took golf lessons when I was in junior high school.  I saved my allowance, bought a used bag of golf clubs, and twice a week paid an instructor to teach me the game.  This memory surfaced for the first time today in 30 years as I struggled to fall back asleep.  I'd all but forgotten this.  Why?  Why did this come back to me this morning?

At the time, it wasn't that I necessarily loved the game of golf; however, my dad did.  I learned so I would have a chance to go out and perhaps one day spend a quiet afternoon on a course with him.  He never invited me.  His sons, yes.  His daughter, sadly no.

Yesterday was a difficult day.  Memories of my father came swirling around me like waves on a sea.  When he was alive, I wanted him to be proud of me; to see that I could stand on my own two feet.  No matter how hard I tried to impress him, it seemed I fell just a little short.  Ellen was the smart, funny one.  Paul was his first son.  Kathy, well - she had to be spoiled.  Then there was me.  I was the sweet kid in the background..always in the background.

I had to let a piece of my "hero" go yesterday.  My father wasn't perfect.  He was a wonderful man and I loved him tremendously.  This morning I realized it was ok.  Parents make mistakes.  I have no regrets.  Perhaps one day we'll have an opportunity to play that game of golf together.