Valentine Cards

Tuesday February 9, 1993

Awake at 5. I took a Unisom and Tylenol but no more deep sleep. Frank left for carving class at 8:15 when I got up. I started the laundry and ate a little breakfast. I am feeling anxious, worried and depressed. I can't shake it. I feel almost paralyzed by it. Finally, I take one of Frank's Xanax for anxiety. It helps but I still feel depressed all day. After lunch we go to see the movie Aladdin, hoping that will help. It helps a little.

We stop to buy Valentines, $35 worth for all our family. Is this my last Valentine's Day? will God answer my constant prayer for healing? Maybe I'll feel better after I see Dr. Semrad tomorrow.

I have no appetite for dinner.

I take Xanax when I have insomnia as it helps me to relax, but I don't think it would help with depression at all. I thought buying Valentine cards would lift her spirits, but again, she is wondering if this will be another "last", which it is. I still have that Valentine card from 1993, as well as several other cards Mom sent me while battling cancer those last 2 years. I'm so glad I kept them. The card pictured above is the one she bought for me this day.

Worry

Saturday February 6, 1992

Another rotten night and sick and depressing day. I'm too weak and ill to eat. I have no appetite. I only shower--no makeup, no hair curling. My arm still hurts and the Tylenol every 4 hours helps a lot. I'm so depressed. I feel like I'd prefer to die.

Chris calls. I try to sound up for her. I love talking to her but today I feel so much worry for her. She's going back to work February 27. It's not going to be pleasant or healthy for her. It will be a lot of stress and also worry about Derek at home with Ric. She's not strong. I'm also worried about Dolores and the baby. She has a problem with her uterus. Judy has a problem adjusting to 2 children. I'm dressed and downstairs in the evening.

I had no idea Mom felt so rotten at this point in her life. Look at her second paragraph. She says "I try to sound up for her." Why couldn't you be real with me, Mom? Why keep me in the dark? You were always strong and wise when I needed advice or help. Why didn't you allow me to be an encouragement to you? Yes, I had a lot going on in my life with a new baby at 39 years old, and a husband who has never been around babies and is now suddenly having to be Mr. Mom while I go back to a very stressful job. It would be hard and stressful, but we all have our burdens to carry. Mom has enough to worry about without worrying about me, and Dolores (Frank's daughter) and Judy (Frank's daughter-in-law).

Justin & Grandpa Bob

Friday July 3, 1992

Had a better night. Awake alot but not so much aching. Out of bed most of the day though did sleep in. Just really took it easy.

Gary will pick up Justin at the airport tomorrow at 4 p.m. He'll take them all to Castaic to see the fireworks. Then he'll keep him Sunday for a BBQ at Gary's with Bob & Geri. Bob and Justin have little to do with each other. I hear they just pretty much have nothing to say or do. But Bob's such a queer duck, he doesn't try or care or know how to reach Justin. Justin takes it as rejection; so does Bob. Too bad.

I don't think it was a rejection so much as just a huge generation gap. My dad was a child of the Great Depression. He was born in 1932. His parents reminded me of the couple in the famous American Gothic painting by Grant Wood, pictured below, very stoic, very unemotional and very conservative. They moved from Kansas to California to find work during the depression.



My dad shocked me years ago when he told me that during his entire childhood, he never once received a birthday present, a Christmas gift, or a party. That to me is borderline child abuse. Life must have been joyless without those things that most children enjoy. That sort of upbringing made my dad very conservative and emotionally unavailable. When my brother and I were growing up, we did have birthday parties and presents because my Mom made sure of it. My dad was the typical 50s father whose job was to just bring home the bacon. It was the wife's job to raise the kids and keep a nice home. When my Mom wanted to get a job outside the home when I was 12, my Dad's reaction was very negative. It was probably the beginning of the end of their marriage. He did not want an independent wife with a life of her own and views of her own. After their divorce, my Dad married Geri, pictured above, who was much more submissive and conservative. They were married for over 30 years until Geri passed away in 2010.