Yes, You Do

I was reading a post yesterday from one of my favorite bloggers,  Deanna  at My Loves, My Life.  She mentioned in her "Now I Know" post,  that her mother would tell her about the passing of her mother's numerous cousins, most  of which  Deanna didn't know.  I can so relate to that coming from my mother too.

Only my mother, who has been gone for 5 years now, would also include bits of gossip, marriages, divorces and births of children to people I had never heard of.   I would tell her, " Mom, I don't know who that is."  She'd answer, "Yes you do."    No, I really don't know who that is.  So then she would give me directions to their house or tell me how they were related to someone I went to high school with 40 years ago. 

She had worked at the Head Cashier in the only grocery store in town, for about 20 years.  She knew everyone and if she ran across someone she didn't know, she'd introduce herself.  She'd tell this stranger who her children were and how old we were.  My oldest daughter Kathy is 56. ( Now I'm older! ha!)  Thank you Mom for sharing that bit of information. 

I remember on one instance she hired a new cleaning lady to help with the vacuuming and dusting. ( Mom was 70ish years old and deserved a break.)   She told me who it was and it really was someone I had gone to high school with.  Her last name started with a P and so did mine.  We were either in the same row of desks or close by one another all through school.  That was my total knowledge of her. So, the first time I happen to go visit Mom when "Mary" is there, Mom tells me... "Go say hello to her."   She was in the bathroom with her head in a toilet bowl.  I didn't want to say hello.  She didn't even know I was there.  Mom pointed her finger at me and said " Go. Say. Hello."  I went.  I was 55 years old and I did as I was told.  Neither of us knew what to say to one another, but I was following orders.

Mom suffered for decades, from Fibromyalgia, so there were many days she couldn't get out of bed.  On some of these days, because I lived close, I was her surrogate.  She would call and say, " I need you to go to a funeral for me."  I may have heard the name of the person before, but I sure didn't know them.  "Yes you do", she'd say.   So, off I'd go.  I'd have to explain I was there for Mom.  Awkward.....

She would also do the same thing to my daughters.  This is what happens when we all lived in the same town.  My girls went to the same High School I did.  The funny thing was when she would try it with my sister, who had left town at 20 years old and lived about 30 minutes away.  "You know Ruth.  She grew up in the blue house across from the Post Office and married your old boyfriend "Jiummy's" cousin Steve?  You know them.  " No I don't"....... "Yes, you do."  There was no arguing with Grammy. 

Then she discovered genealogy.  Good heavens.  That opened the flood gates on more people we didn't know.  More to the point... people she didn't know either.  That didn't slow her down.  She would find long lost, distant relatives that she would email or write letters to  and then tell us about the marriages and deaths in their families.  Good grief.  I told her I was waiting for the movie.

Sadly, I heard her words coming out of my mouth.  When Rachel (daughter #2) was with us on the last cruise, one morning for breakfast, eggs sunny side up were on the menu.  She ordered them.  I told her " You don't like those."  She said, "How do you know that?"  I told her I know her.  And I was right.  She likes eggs "over easy', not sunny side up.     Instead of saying "Yes, you do" -  I had said "No, you don't". 

Ouchy!

This is the third day of a migraine run so please forgive me for not reading and commenting lately.  I really am missing you all.  

I have gotten migraines since I was 11 years old.  My mother got them  and, fortunately, only one of my three daughters gets them, but rarely.   My mother's stopped after menopause so I was hopeful, but that was not my case, unfortunately.  So, I do have prescription medication for them.  Over the years I have tried all kinds of stuff.  Some of the prescription medications have such a small amount of dosages, like Imitrex has only 8 tablets in a script (they may have more now, I don't know. ) that I would delay using them until it was too late to help.

So I have learned to work through a lot of  head pain.  I spend years in florescent lighting and working on computers, both of which trigger headaches in "normal" people. 

I did want to make a comment today though, so bare with me typing with one eye closed and the headache above the other one.  (Only half kidding there.) :)

I just saw that "Soul Train's" Don Cornelius died at 75, due to a self inflicted gunshot.  I was a Soul Train girl.  It used to come on, in my area, after American Bandstand, in the early 1970s.   Don Cornelious was a sharper dresser and could "bust a move", although, he generally didn't.

It got me thinking that we also lost Don Kirshner in January of 2011,   He was hugely instrumental in getting the Monkee's television program on the air,but what I knew him for, was "The Midnight Special " that came on at 1:00 am.     I want to say it was on Saturday night,  but it may have been Friday. 

This is an infomercial (really? on Youtube?) but it does show how many huge performers Don Kirshner was able to book for this program.  You can just check out a few in your memory banks.  My dear husband is 5 years younger than me, so he is swearing he was too young to stay up this late but maybe his babysitter watched it.  Give me a break!  Of I was 21, he was 16.  I told him he read too many Playboys at 16 if he thought he had a babysitter then. Men!

We've lost 2 big icons of our generation.  Dick Clark is still hanging in there after his stroke.  I can't tell you how many hours I watched Amercian Bandstand.

I texted my husband at work and he texted back.... Casey Kasem?  He's still with us.   Casey and his "long distance dedications"  was radio but he, along with these gentlemen of television, entertained our generation.  They were the voices and the venues of our youth. 

I have fond memories of both the Dons.  Thank you for  the music.