Memory: Leather Coats

Yesterday the hubby and I went to see Atomic Blonde, which we did enjoy. However, during the movie James McAvoy is wearing a leather coat, which for some reason sparked a memory that bothered me a lot.

A few years before my father’s death we were up visiting them and we noticed he didn’t have a nice coat. Unfortunately this was after my parents were financially bereft and they couldn’t afford to buy something. We decided we would keep an eye out for something he could wear that would look nice and would be something he would like.

It was about that time that Wolsey had a leather jacket, not a biker leather jacket but one of those cut and styled from the late 70s or early 80s. Something that was just in the perfect wheelhouse of fashion that my dad liked. The late 70s and into the 80s was my dad’s decade (even though for him he was in his thirties then). Wolsey had decided he didn’t want it and presented it to my dad as a gift. My dad thought it was great. He was wearing it around for a little while, that is until my brother was a douche one day.

One day, my brother decided to make fun of the jacket, saying it was a girl’s jacket. The only reason I can think that he would think that is because it wasn’t a biker leather jacket. I am not sure how he thought it was a girl’s jacket, maybe because he knew Wolsey gave it to him, or he forgot that there are other jacket styles but the now overdone biker jacket. I am sure my brother was trying to just rib my dad, but it came out as a dick move, and sadly my dad never wore that jacket again. He put it away, then eventually gave it away. Even though we told my dad it looked great and it didn’t look like a girl’s jacket.

To this day I am still really pissed at my brother for that. I didn’t realize it would take a movie to remind me of that memory.

Happy Anniversary, we miss you.

I woke up a little confused this morning, dreams of my mom and dad. Then when I sat down I realized she had passed away a year ago today, on their 46th wedding anniversary (today would be their 47th anniversary). Of course it happened that way, my parents loved each other too much to go long without seeing one another. My mom liked holidays so this seems perfectly in her style to pick one of her favorite holidays to pass.

She didn’t do well after my dad passed away in February of 2016. She was lonely a lot, and I couldn’t be with her daily (but at least weekly I was). I did call her multiple times a day, every day and she seemed buoyed by it. Then my brother stayed with her. She tried hard to keep things going, but in the end her body couldn’t hold up to her grief.

Although she was incredibly brave, and remarkably at peace as things failed her. She didn’t want to be here anymore. As her heart was giving out, we talked with her and she went into hospice. By this time we were driving up daily to see her. So many things happened I will talk about later. I remember her asking me for the days in hospice what day it was. She wanted to make it so badly to their anniversary. It was important to her.

I kept telling her it wasn’t “today” yet. Eventually that day did come, no matter how much I wished it wouldn’t. Their anniversary arrived quietly on a hot summer day, and as we went up to see her in the hospice house I knew it would be for the last time.

We arrived there, met with family, drama and a desire that I could whisk her away somewhere she could get true peace. We sat with her for hours, she was slowly fading, but would occasionally stir and say something garbled.

I was holding her hand most of the day, she was less responsive then the previous days. I leaned over and whispered to her that it was ok, today was her anniversary she had been waiting for and it was ok to go. She was mostly unconscious but she still squeezed my hand.

We stayed a few more hours, and I thought I had been wrong. Not more than 30 minutes later, while we were still driving through Mount Vernon on our way home, I got a call from my sister. She had passed away. I was numb for the rest of the car ride, but that will be talked about in a future post (along with everything else that happened around her passing).

I love you mom. I still miss you and I hope you are in a better place. Even with all the issues our family had, I am grateful you were my mother. I know you loved all of us deeply.

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Mom in  May 1970
IMG_0802
Mom in May 2016, still holding it together for the family after my father passed.

It is funny, I still remember you more towards the way you looked in the 1970s.

Oh, and my mom was a stickler about holidays, ALL OF THE HOLIDAYS, so I know she expects me to wish her and my dad a happy anniversary, 47 years ago today. So HAPPY 47th ANNIVERSARY MOM AND DAD!

From Parents Photo Album
Married July 25th, 1970. John and Mary Bradley.

I love you, just wanted you to know that we love you, and we miss you and dad.

Dreams: A Dark Night and a Patio Door

I had a dream a few days ago, there were a lot of specifics that have faded away, but the root part of the dream still haunts me.

I was in some sort of apartment that was second floor or higher. I was standing in the living room and somebody was talking to me as I was staring out into the dark night. My eyes rested on a  building that was almost kitty corner to me. Instead of it facing towards me though, it was facing 90 degrees, which made the two buildings form an L shape, with a sort of courtyard in the middle.

This was late at night, I could see flashes of light in the distance, and I could see fairly well into an apartment in that building, one story above my level. As if it was the third level of an almost identical building compared to my second level. Both the other apartment, and mine had patio doors that led to nowhere. These were glass like doors that weren’t open at the time, but seemed to open out to a fall of two or three stories.

While I was watching that other door, I started putting on some sort of coat. I think now that it was some sort of rain poncho/rain coat. As I was doing that I saw my dad in that window. He was in his late 40s/early 50s with longer hair. He turned and looked at me from that patio door when all of sudden his face had this look of terror on it as he watched me and he started slamming on the patio door, almost knocking it out. I could see him screaming in horror, rendering himself hoarse.

I was panicking, worrying that he was going to fall out the window and get hurt or die. I could hear muffled screams as his fists slammed harder and harder into the glass (never breaking it). I was trying to figure out a way to get over behind his building and get up to him (because for some reason that was what my mind thought, the only way to get there is to run behind the building). That was when I realized he was trying to warn me, he was looking at something behind me, screaming at me about something. 

The moment the realization that he wasn’t scared for himself, but for me and he was looking behind me was when I woke up.

I got up Saturday morning around 2am, didn’t go back to bed and this dream has been bothering me ever since. I hope writing it out helps like my other dreams and it fades.

 

Double Feature

Yep, another post about another dream.

Over the last couple of weeks my anxiety has been kicked up to an 11 due to Wolsey’s surgery, work and just a lot of stuff in my head. Last night I took some meds to go to sleep and ended up having dreams I mostly remember.

The first dream is we were in a house, a real place (sort of in the dream) that I lived at as a child. It mostly consisted of my dad talking to us, giving us shit. We were talking about a girl named Brie Larson who my dad had a fling with in the house (the reality is there was a drunken one night thing in the place I don’t think the girl was named Brie though). My dad was being huge and giving us shit about the place.

For some reason I turned around annoyed when he brought up the place and I said “Well, this is the place where you died too” and everything stopped. It wasn’t of course, he died in a place 30 years later. He just looked at me and I realized he was gone in the real world. He just gave me a small smile and said he loved me.

I woke up and found it was about 1am. I didn’t want to get up and I must have fallen asleep fairly soon after.

The second dream was more intense and longer, but I remember less of it as I am sitting here. I remember it was a hospital and there were many people there. My mom was in the hospital again to get surgery on her heart. In the real world I think I did this with her four times before she had the final problems she died from eventually.

We waited for her to come out and several others that went in for surgery around the same time she did had passed away. there was a lot of stress about her results. After some drama with the nurses and with my sister (which is too close to what happened in real life with my father) I was freaking out. Finally they brought her back out and she was ok. All I could focus on though was how thin her skin felt when I was hugging her. Thats when I woke up.

So there it is, the depressing dreams of the day :).

Last Words

It has been a rough month since my dad passed. The funeral, the family issues, the constant driving to Bellingham. However, I am a very very lucky person, I got to speak to my dad as he was passing away.

There are no real lost words or expressions of love. We have always told each other that we love each other. While my childhood had a lot of problems with poverty and alcoholism, there was never a lack of love. That includes actually saying it and showing it, not just an “unacknowledged” understanding.

Jello and I were fortunate though. Jello was able to talk with him on the phone before my dad lost the ability to talk that way. I know Jello wished he could have made it up to see dad, but the surgery results wouldn’t let him travel that far.

I was fortunate as well. While I was up visiting my mom as she and the rest of my family watched over him in the last week. I went into the bedroom, hugged him, kissed his forehead and told him that Jello and I loved him.

As if from a zombie movie, his eyes shot open and focused on me. There was a bit of shock on my part, he had been unconscious all day, hadn’t really even responded to me earlier. He grabbed my head and lifted himself up to kiss me, hug me and tell me how much he loved Jello and myself and how proud he was of us.

We talked for a few minutes more, but he was so tired and exerting so much effort that I just laid beside him for a minute and told him it was ok. I was there. He went back to sleep.

That was the last time I talked to him. I know he woke up and talked a bit with the rest of my family, and when I came up the day before he passed I sat with him for hours holding his hand as he slept. He would  respond if I told him I loved him by squeezing my hand. I probably could have pushed him to come up again, but he was finally resting, no pain, no trouble breathing and he was calm. So I just held his hand.

“What will it matter in a hundred years?”

dadToday was a little rough and down. Missing my dad, stress with work, Jello’s health (surgery) and my mom. I was thinking about my dad and it struck me today that one of his favorite things to say when I was anxious or panicky was the phrase.

“What will it matter in a hundred years?”

Meaning I shouldn’t worry, whatever it was, it wasn’t a big deal.

He would then laugh and usually hug me and say he loved me. This happened without fail, even if he was drunk, sick, or busy. I even have used that line when I quit a job when I was younger when the person I told to shove off said I would regret it. Even now saying that helps reduce the anxiety.

However, it isn’t quite the same as hearing it from him. I am kind of missing hearing that today.

Dream: Peach Cobbler

Yep, another post about another dream.I apologize if this isn’t written as a good story, its still 2:35am and I just woke up about 10 minutes ago. I wanted to start up my dream journaling again. When I was stressed years ago it helped.

I just dreamt about getting surgery with a focus on peach cobbler with a side of vanilla ice cream.

Evidently there was some sort of kidney surgery I needed. The whole family, including Jello, parents, siblings etc were all waiting for me to go under and get worked on. Evidently it was a huge deal.

We were in and out of the surgical center. I kept leaving the center, even after they marked my surgical site to grab my family and bring them back. I found everyone eating at a local restaurant (similar to a Bob’s Burger and Brew place).

Everyone was scattered around the main room and they all were chatting and everyone was upset. I didn’t understand why, my dad who had a surgery just a little while ago was fine, I was fine, but everyone, especially Jello was worried about my surgery. I spent a huge time talking with distant friend/family relations that I had when I was a kid.

Eventually everyone had gone back to the surgical center except my parents. Thats when I realized for some strange reason that my dad was dressed in his blue denim button up shirt, baseball hat and had his biker stache in full glory. My dad was finishing up eating some peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream.

Even my mom was finished and I kept telling my dad to hurry up we have to go to surgery and I wanted him there. The whole dream I kept focusing on him finishing up his peach cobbler.

Just as my parents and I were following Jello out (Jello had been riding me the whole time that I needed to go get the procedure done, it made it sound like it was medically necessary and extremely important) a couple that were my parents friends when I was a child came in. They were crying and started talking to my parents.

I can sometimes be impatient (I am sure people who know me in real life are not surprised by that statement). I kept pushing we needed to go. I am not sure what shifted in the dream but all of a sudden it was only my mom standing in front of me. I was annoyed but also worried and looked around. 

I saw on the table we were all eating at, an uneaten peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream. The ice cream had been melting for awhile. It felt like someone slapped me in the face as I woke up immediately.

As I was sitting here typing this, I just realized my dad’s birthday is coming up (he would have been 68 at the end of March) and that I had promised to bake him some peach cobbler for his birthday (I have recently learned how to do cobblers).

I guess I am not baking peach cobbler for him.

Fuck…