Sunday, October 23, 2022


I kept telling myself that I'm going to get to bed earlier, but that doesn't seem to happen.

Is it FOMO? Who knows?  I tend to think too much.  And I tend to worry too much.  I have an 85-year-old mother who loves to talk to scammers on Facebook.  She's so lonely that this fills that void for her, although I keep explaining that these people are not her friends.  They're not in love with her and they're not coming to rescue her.  She knows that, but she continues...  Sometimes, I spend a lot of time trying to make sure she's not being swindled.  

Apparently, I haven't always been successful, as she went through a lengthy period where she was spending more than usual and no matter how much I asked, she denied giving anyone money.  Now I've come to find out that the newest scam involved buying gift cards and giving the information to the scammer.  Who knew? Now I know... But she's a grown up and I can't stop her from giving away the little bit of money she gets from Social Security and her tiny pension.  I just make sure she has groceries and a place to live, and I hope she stays safe, and I never drive my own kids crazy that way. 

Meh... glad I didn't inherit that insanity from her!

Tuesday, October 4, 2022

When a song makes you cry...


Got a text from a friend who wanted to know if I'd left something out in the rain, and it immediately brought my mind to "MacArthur Park" by Donna Summer (someone left the cake out in the rain?) -- it made us laugh because she said she never knew what that song was about.

OF COURSE, I had to Google it and found out the original version was by Richard Harris in 1968 and it was based on the metaphor of lost love.  Really beautiful story:

But that's not what made me cry.  I thought about my dad, who died only a couple of weeks before his 56th birthday from a brain tumor. 

When I was in college, he recorded a Donna Summer concert for me, and I always thought how sweet of him.  He was a tough man and had a hard life, but he did his best to give his kids a good life and was a hard worker.  I will always love him for that.

I remember how hard it was for him to show his tender emotions and when he did, it always broke me down.  I can't imagine what it was like for him, growing up in Puerto Rico, moving from home to home with people who didn't treat him well after his parents died when he was so young.  Breaks my heart to even think about it.

Not too long ago, I saw a picture of him at age 5, dressed in cute little man clothes, and my sister reminded me that he used to work in the sugar cane fields and sometimes didn't get to eat until he was done working because he had a mean stepfather at that point in his life.  

Would I have been more understanding had I known these things when I was younger?

Maybe... but either way, I'm grateful.  I have a good life, I've never had to go hungry, and I had parents who loved me and did the best they could.

AND all that came flooding back to me today, on a rainy day, thinking about leaving cake out in the rain... go figure...