For the Love of Christmas: Sweet Memories

Feeling a bit nostalgic tonight…

I was born 19 days before Christmas in 1957. (Yeah, my birthday is next week and probably why I am reliving sweet memories tonight.) Mom always said I was her Christmas present. My childhood was a fairytale. We didn’t have money but we had a comfortable roof over our heads, food to eat, clean clothes to wear, an abundance of love, and Jesus ruled our home. Mom sewed most of my clothes from flour sacks. (Back then, flour came in pretty sacks of cotton fabric. I wasn’t the best dressed by any means but I was proud of those dresses – and was so excited when she had enough material for a new dress – until around the third grade when people began “picking on me” and my clothes. Now, it would be considered “bullying”. I was bullied until high school.)

I never heard my parents even say a harsh word towards each other until well after I was married. Some of my most precious memories are of my Daddy walking up behind Mama while she was washing the dishes or cooking and loving on her; goosing her to make her laugh. We laughed a lot in our home. (Man, I was so disillusioned about how life was supposed to be when I got married. I didn’t get that “fairytale”.)

Thanksgiving and Christmas were always special. Mom made sure they were. She would bake for weeks; cookies, fudge, Pecan Pies for Thanksgiving Dinner (those were Daddy’s favorites, next to the Coconut Cake she always made for his birthday – the day before Halloween). When I was tall enough to stand in a chair to reach the sink, I was in the kitchen helping her. She was an excellent southern cook and teacher. We had some good times in the kitchen together. It was her most favorite time of the year. I guess that’s why it has always been my favorite also. Baking and cooking were the way spent our time together. I will always miss that time with her but am so thankful for those sweet memories and everything she taught me.

The day after Thanksgiving, my mother, little brother and I would go into the woods and chop down a cedar tree then drag it back home. (The smell of a cedar tree will always be a sweet Christmas memory for me. Those were days well before artificial trees which I have now only because of the potential fire hazard of a real tree.) Sometimes we would walk for over a mile to find the perfect tree. When Daddy came home, he would saw it off to fit the room then set it into a bucket and stabilize it. I remember one year the tree was so tall and full there was barely room to walk around it. (Daddy had to cut a couple of feet off it to get it in the house.) That was the most beautiful tree and one I will always remember.

When my brother was just a wee little guy, he would sleep under the Christmas tree every night until Christmas Eve. Mom made him go to bed so Santa could come. He would crawl in my bed and talk all night as we listened for Santa. (Every little noise just had to be Santa.) We would finally fall asleep in the early morning hours then up before dawn because we just couldn’t wait any longer to see if Santa brought we asked for.

Daddy had his first of four back operations when I was around six years old. (He was never the same after that. The doctor slipped and cut a nerve in his back. Even though he worked for the next twenty years, he lived in constant pain and did nothing other than work to provide for his family. The fun was over.) That Christmas, he was unable to work for a couple of months and I remember Mom worrying how they were going to pay the bills, let alone buy Christmas gifts. We went to church for Christmas Eve services and when we came home I was totally convinced Santa had come while we were gone. (That was the time in my life when I wasn’t sure about Santa so it couldn’t have come at a better time.) Later, I found out the church made sure my brother and I had gifts under the tree; just little trinkets mostly but there were more presents under the tree than you could ever imagine. There was even an envelope of money as well as food. We were so richly blessed.

We lived in the country and a trip to downtown Birmingham was a treat in those days. So much different from now. All the buildings decorated with beautiful lights and Woodrow Wilson Park (now Linn Park) was so magical at Christmas. Daddy would sit in the car and keep it warm while Mom, my brother and I ran around the park. That was so much fun and a tradition I always looked forward to. (Sweet family time.) To this day, I still love the lights. It’s one of the most magical parts of the season.

I wish I was still a child at this time of year. There was more love and simplicity; more magic and excitement.

Dear Lord, thank You for my sweet memories. I had a wonderful childhood; the best parents (and little brother) a kid could ever dream of having. Thank You! Thank You for loving me enough to give Your life for me even though I do not deserve one little scratch on Your body. Please, let me see my grandkids soon. I miss them (and my son) so very much. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen. 

 

Exercise and Fibromyalgia

They recommend exercise for Fibro patients. However, for this gal, exercise does nothing to help the pain but makes it worse. I was walking 2 miles a day for over a year and had to quit because the pain became unbearable. I’m sure it helps some people but just like the “miracle” drugs doesn’t work for me. I wish you all the best and just try it. It may work for you.

http://www.webmd.com/fibromyalgia/fibromyalgia-what-you-need-to-know-10/slideshow-fibromyalgia-exercise?ecd=wnl_fib_111913&ctr=wnl-fib-111913_ld-stry&mb=o5WfwCcCapT710vdJqWjhOHnVev1imbCtsz5FKZpoyw%3d

 

Fibro Mystery Potentially Solved

In an article, sent to me by a friend, I read where doctors are discovering that the pain from Fibromyalgia may not be in the patient’s head… Really?!

http://www.sott.net/article/263813-The-Fibromyalgia-mystery-finally-solved

This gal knows it is not in her head and is very real. Why on earth would I create something in my mind that would cause debilitating pain, insomnia, fatigue, or anything that would keep me from doing the things I once lived for? With more doctors than not believing this disease is “all in your head”, it has made anyone who has never experienced Fibro pain believe that also. I mean if doctors don’t believe it is real then who else would? If I could make it go away, I would gladly do so. This disease has changed my life and is nothing I would wish on even my worst enemy. I just want people to understand that this is a very real disease.

Thank goodness my doctor has never belittled me and has tried everything he could think of to find some relief for me. The new drug, Trileptal, is a drug normally used for seizures but is given for many reasons. In my case, for muscle spasms. I think it may be helping with the “squeezing” spells but is doing little, if anything, for the muscle spasms in my back.

I have tried just about every drug on the market. Most of which make me even more sick, crazy, suicidal, or do nothing at all except waste money I don’t have. Since the government won’t allow me to continue taking the drugs that have helped me tolerate the pain for years, I would rather suffer through it with nothing at all than to have those side effects. Some people have found relief with Lyrica, Cymbalta, and other popular drugs. I am happy they have found something to help them live normal lives without side effects.

If I never find something to relieve the pain, I have accepted that. I know my limits and have to pace myself. Most days I push those limits and know I will pay dearly for my actions. I have to try. I refuse to let this thing get the best of me and completely take away my life.