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Me Age 5 with my Mom
Its little old Dave again, just reminding everyone not to blow off Mother’s Day. For whatever reason I decided to do the math and see how many years my Mother has been gone. It’s been 23 years. I had her for 24, and for whatever reason this bothered me. From this point forward I will have had less time with my mother than the actual time I did.
In going to therapy, its weird what bubbles up to the top. I remember two instances in grade school where I got left of lists. I hope this wasn’t intentional, but there is that little voice in my head that will always wonder. I believe that’s when I started working on my “shields.” You know the one you put up when there are people around who might hurt you. This can be dangerous as you might find that while you don’t get hurt, you also can’t let anyone near you. As good as you think your shields are, there are those occasions where something gets by you and knocks the wind out of you.


Today I talk about the worst day of my life (or definitely in the top 5).
It’s funny when you have young kids. How do they get your attention when they are hungry? They scream and cry. You can shake keys at them, put on Barney (or whatever the latest kid tv is), bounce them on your knee and NOTHING matters unless you solve their one problem: THEY’RE HUNGRY.
So there I was with the roles reversed, with a better grip on the “big picture” than my Dad did. I was explaining what to do, and why these actions were what was best for him. Much like a teenager, he thinks he knows everything.

