Unlisted

Last night there was a program on PBS about a young Doctor who's father was schizophrenic and her efforts to try to reconnect with him.  The sad part of the story was that the father stopped taking his meds and near the end of the  program committed suicide.  It showed the attempt to connect to a person that wasn't in any frame of mind to connect even with their own feelings.  It brought back a flood of memories of my early years and growing up with my Dad's Manic Depression. 

Dad, his brother warren, Mother and Mattie Jean on one of the better days

As a kid growing up, when my dad said come here, I never knew if it was to kiss me or kick me.  Depending on his state, either high or low, he would praise or punish almost randomly.   While I want to shout that it was so bad that all my failures could be blamed on him, I think just the opposite is true.  I think I grew up pretty damned independent and he was a good guide of what to not be.  There are times I don't do a great job communicating to my own family but, there are a lot of positive things I have done for my family. 

One thing I hope I do convey to others is my joy of life and living.  When Dad was on a high, he could entertain himself  with almost any activity.  On one vacation in Arkansas, Dad spent almost the entire week gathering rocks and making a small rock wall near what we called the cellar.  He could have bought blocks and made that wall in one day and easily moved on.  He  spent way more time sorting through the rocks and then cementing them together.  As I recall he even dropped a rock on is thumb and had mom drill a hole in the nail to relieve the pressure.  When he was depressed, he either drank or went to bed.  Either way there wasn't a lot of interaction during the sad times.

I think I have inherited a lot of good things from my dad and I hope not too many bad things.  I have the ability to deal with people in almost all walks of life.   I have a pretty good ability to take things apart and make them work.  Barb says if she was to be on a deserted isle somewhere I would be her choice to be with her.  I would want a pocket knife, a roll of bailing wire and a pallet load of Duct Tape to go with us. 

One thing that really helped me was that my Dad finally found Lithium in his 60's and that calmed out the highs and lows.  I was able to talk to him and he gave me the one thing I really lean on.  He said that if I had a cold, could someone just tell me to "Get over it."  They could tell me, but it would have little or no effect.  It was the same way with him when he was high or low.  He was what he was and without some type of medication he could not change.  That's pretty much when I stopped drinking (or self medicating) and be Popeye.  "I Yam what I Yam."   When I work, I work hard but I do try to pick my jobs a little better now that I am older. 

The other thing we have done is to do our best to save money and to live a darned good life here in our retirement.  I think Dad managed to spend what Mom didn't.  They probably had a good life but I am having one that has a lot less worry about paying the bills.  I did my best to share what we had with them so they didn't have the large worry some retired families have.  There were a few leaner days when Dad died and both his Social Security and his Beechcraft pensions went away.   The good news is that Dad wasn't there to place any strange demands on the budget.  I think Mom lived a pretty comfortable life there at the end.  I know my brother Rick and my sister Myrna both worked hard to make that happen.

Oh well, I didn't intend to make this a pity party about me, only to see if I could share how a program on TV kind of touched a nerve in my life.  It is a chapter that is now closed and will remain that way unless I have to open it from time to time. 

MUD aka Popeye