Long time coming....

Has it really been this long? Where have I been and what have I been doing to keep me from my duties for so long? Why such a substantial break in the posting of the pleasantries?

Pull up a chair, grab a cold one, sit down and let me tell you all about it.

Since the 1st of September of last year, we have seen my children come and go a few times, my mom travel to Florida to meet her sisters, an entire rugby season pass by, a complete bathroom remodel, a puppy pass and a new year start.

Mom met with her sisters up in Michigan for a wedding and again down in Florida for a week on the beach. That is (from left to right) Betty, Bridgit, Bonnie and Bubbles. Some sweet ladies. Wish I could hear the stories they have to tell. From growing up in the North, migrating to Texas, marrying and scattering, raising families and becoming empty- nesters and grandmothers; I'll bet they have loads of great memories to share. I have interviewed Betty once (to be posted still), and would love to interview the others as soon as I get the chance. However, geography works against me, in that regard.

I am told that they had great visits at both locations, playing games, having a stiff drink and swapping laughs and memories well into the nights.

Thanks to my incredible sister and my goofy brother for helping my mom get to see her sisters.

On a more somber note, Rucker the puppy got out of the yard and wound up on the bad end of a collision with a car. He now rests under the front tree with my boy, Brutus. It made for a sad weekend, but life goes on and we have. He will be missed, though.

The new bathroom looks great. Pictures of the process are in the works. And the rugby season has come and gone. The Bard sings about it elsewhere, but for now, suffice it to say, we went 3 and 7 and fared okay with plenty of room for improvement and some new faces.

That's it for now. See you in a couple.

old news posted way late....

So I told you I was behind and that I was working on clearing that all up. So here is the first post of what we did over the course of the summer.

I had both kids for the summer and when my wonderful sister came down for the week, we took a trip to go swimming. Mom, Sis and I along with my two and sister's youngest piled in the car and drove two hours to this great swimming hole in the middle of nowhere.

We had a great time as the three kids swam to their hearts content. The swimming hole is a natural spring fed facility, a cool 68 degrees all year long. It is full of fish, which the nephew was catching with his bare hands, turtles the size of a hubcap (a large one at that). The pool also sported a high diving board and over two hundred yards of length. It is nestled in the foothills of the Fort Davis Mountains and a stone's throw away from the boy scout ranch where I grew up. Having lost my two best friends this summer and my lovely daughter being around for it, we carved their names in the bottom of the pool. It took us the better part of an hour to dive, carve, surface for air, repeat as required. Jerry Rheinlander and Brutus.....R.I.P. boys, you are missed.

I hope you enjoy the pictures as well as the music that accompanies them, as the song is what we did while there for the day.

Got some time to stroll?

Walk With Me

When the Good Lord made each one of us
He gave each of us our own free will.
I aspire to teach my kids discipline because
it is a valuable attribute which to instill.

I strive not to control or push them
in any manner or direction I want.
Instead I teach them the minimum requiem
so that life, in its craziness, won't daunt.

I illuminate them from whence they came
of their forefathers and their struggles.
How they managed to excel at the game
and avoid some of life's big troubles.

I wish to show them the easier way
to make it from challenge to challenge.
How to manage and plan their day
so they may enjoy a healthy balance.

Most would say that it is our goal
to raise a healthy and wealthy brood,
but I say I aspire to be the best
at showing my kids a good attitude.

I laugh with them every chance I get
and I try to dance whenever I can.
I sing everyday (if you can call it that)
and I smile because life is grand.

But life is not all kicks and grins,
it takes work to make it through.
And each of us must pay for our sins.
We all know this to be true.

So as we walk along our chosen path
in this topsy turvy, crazy theme park.
I hope that both my kids somehow hath
my beacon to help penetrate the dark.

I want them to glance to either side
and see all of their family there;
walking with them, along for the ride
so they don't feel like they must beware.

They must learn and understand each day
that the lessons passed down from the wise
come from travelling with the old and gray
and by sharing with them smiles and cries.

For a time will come when we are gone
and our children will enter the fray
and at that time I hope they are strong,
so to teach their own children the way.

stu pidasso

17June2009

Be sure to check out the plethora of other writers at Mama Kat's Writers' Workshop. There are some really good posts out there waiting to be shared. And for the record, I did not fake my aging mother for cyber sympathy. She is real and she is old and we do love her very much. The above picture is also included in the zoo slide show on my last post over at Mudville Musings. Give it a view if you'd like.......or not......but have a great day and hug your kids.

Mother's Day poem, summer plans and quasi-vlogging

I have been working on an "assignment" from Mama Kat's Writers' Workshop. She is nice enough to prompt us with a few choices each week to help us get our creative juices flowing and this week she did not disappoint. When I read the five prompts, I smiled as I had (unbeknownst to myself) accomplished one ahead of time. So I did two more with it and I am going to post all three. I probably should skip prompt 1, but I need to get used to posting videos. My vlog attempt is a bit embarrassing, but since it came from the heart I'll do it anyway. Pardon the bit of slurring, but I had a few cold ones by that point.



Now to begin. I wrote my mother a poem (it might be the first). I hope you like it.

DEVOTION

Devotion
is the single word to be heard
that sums it up for all.
It is what you've done for forty-one
of the years I can recall.

Devotion
is what my fortunate father received
when he took your hand.
How is it that he correctly perceived
you as the fairest of the land?

Devotion
helped build a rock solid home
for seven bros and my sis.
Perpetually chasing us as we all did roam
ready with a hug and a kiss.

Devotion
to your choice of life work to do
by becoming a nurse.
Opting to aid the sick and needy, too;
instead of stuffing your purse.

Devotion
is what your favorite priest finds
when you grace his eyes.
Your resolve is the kind that binds,
strong faith you epitomize.

Devotion
to being the type of kind soul
to turn the other cheek.
Forgiving trespassers no matter the toll
and striving to be meek.

Devotion
the same offered to welcome guests
calling at your door.
Open to filling any and all requests
while refusing to keep score.

Devotion
to husband, family, job, church,
foes and friends the same.
For the word, no need to search
I just use your name.

Devotion
to helping you enjoy your life
in any way I can.
If dad deserved it, doubly so his wife
the only mother for this man.

stu pidasso

7May2009

This summer, I want to take my kids across Texas. Every other day we will enjoy a different waterhole in this great state. We will start out west in Balmorhea, and proceed to work our way across Texas to the east on our trip to Houston. I intend to have stops in Christoval, Junction, Llano, Burnet, Austin, New Braunfels, Bastrop and maybe more. I hope to do some swimming, fishing, canoing, dam jumping, cliff jumping, river tubing and more. We may even get my sister and her three men to come along for part or all of the trip. We may have to split it into two trips and do half of it next summer. I'll keep you posted.

And the last bit of bidness, is the posting of my first attempt at video upload.

Opening up......Part 1

I wonder how many bloggers out there use their real identities and how many don't??

As I get more and more experience at posting my thoughts, writings and photos; the original reluctance to put too much personal data on my pages has started to ebb a bit. Much in the same way a writer introduces readers to the characters in the story and develops those characters over time, I am slowly giving more and more glimpses into my family's and my life's inner workings and events. Is this something that all bloggers go through?? Are most web authors hesitant to divulge their personal information? I am interested in how many bloggers use psuedonyms. How many of them are concealing their true identities and locations to avoid having webtrolls invade their private lives? Not that we have any control over the countless trolls that are lurking out there in web-la-la-land, but I've seen some of the havoc these trolls can create. I personnally, am not bothered by the kind of people that are doing this, as I have grown up with seven older brothers and am quite thick-skinned.

However, I have seen how it affects some of the ladies who post such great stuff. Reading some of the comments posted on other sites (and watching a vblog of one young lady's courageous response to some of them) by trolls, I just rue the day when some unsavory browser posts his filth to or about one of my loved ones. My family is the only thing in my life that can be used to provoke me to unsavory behavior these days. It (my family) is the only thing I cherish more than my life itself. But, in all my fear of having someone else disrespect my family or use any information I post on my blogs against my family, I owe it to my family and myself to write from my heart and share with the blogging community the boundless euphoria that I call home and all the wonderful players in the drama unfolding in that home.

So with no further ado, I introduce one of the star attractions for my soul's relaxation, my sister. She is the one on the right, I am in the middle and my mother is on the left. She is wonderful. She is artistic and funny. She can cook, create, inspire and leap tall buildings in a single bound. She does custom furniture, makes dolls, and decorates interiors. She goes out of her way to reach out to everyone in our family at different times in a methodical rotating time schedule. She never misses a birthday or anniversary. She writes letters, too! Her imagination knows no bounds. Besides the picture frame with the portraits of myself and kids, she made me my favorite coffee cup. It came complete with portraits of both my kids, my favorite beer, my local rugby team logo, my favorite sport (soccer), my "name" (I've gone by Jerry for as long as I can remember), one of my nicknames and she signed and dated it. A master piece if ever I saw one. I will keep it forever (in case she becomes famous!!). Hand decorated with TLC, she had it glazed and fired in a local kiln for Xmas two years ago. I thought it had gotten stolen three weeks ago in Austin, Texas; but finally found it this past Monday. It was like finding gold in a riverbed. WOO HOO!!! She is not just my only sister, but my favorite sibling. She doesn't even know I have a blog site here (although my daughter just found me!!) on which I am singing her praises. So to answer some of the questions from some of my interested readers and fellow bloggers, my name is NOT Stu Pidasso. It is NOT Stewart Pidasso. It is NOT Jerry, but I have been called Jerry for most of my life. My name (in reverse to throw off the search engines) is etihW werdnA navE dlareG. I hope I have not offended anyone, I am just concerned about internet bad guys.

The weirdest thing happened....

It's Sunday evening, just before midnight. I find myself chilling at my mom's. Dishes are done. Food is stored. Everyone else is gone home or down for the night. I go to the front room where mom sleeps, just to check in on her. The television is a little loud and is lighting up the room. I sit for a minute in the rocking chair. The movie is not bad and I stay for a moment (don't get many of those, do you ladies??). My mother starts in her sleep. It is such a big twitch, that it almost gets me on my feet. She is still asleep, but her jerks are quite frequent now that I am watching for them. It is like watching my dog chase rabbits in his sleep. I have no idea what she is dreaming about, but it has her moving pretty good. After a few minutes of watching her sleep, I finally notice that her feet are bare. I move to the bed and cover them, tucking them in with a little air but tight.

WHOA!!! WAIT A MINUTE!! I JUST TUCKED MY MOM IN FOR BED!!

That was sureal.

I can remember driving back and forth from the metro home to sit with my dad while he was withering away, but this is my mom. There is some family history there that I will get into later; but if I can do that for my dad, then I can sure as hell do it for my mom. My dad and I hashed out a lot of differences between us while he was bedridden, and I must admit that he was an asshole. However, he loved my mother and all of us kids. He did the best he could (as well as we all can on the run under pressure all the time with kids in tow through the snow uphill both ways). He did better than good, he did damn good. He was still an asshole, though!! But my mother......my mother was a saint. She put up with his machismo military way of life. She endured his stupid attempts to gain approval in his father's eyes at the expense of his own bride, the choice of his own as a partner and mate. She bore him sons; many sons and one beautiful, gifted daughter. she helped deliver unto to him ten gorgeous grandchildren. She ignored the crude insensitive behavior which he ignorantly manifested into the young men and woman in his charge. She rose up and overcame the many hours of absence that he had in his work providing for the care and nourishment of the nine children (and then some). She is not just a saint, but a trooper. She would be Saint Michael himself, if she were an angel. But she is my mother. And as surprisingly delightful as I found it to tuck in my children when they were young, I melted this evening when I tucked in my mother. How is it we come not only full circle child parenting child; but child taking care of parent as parent took care of child?? I never saw this coming, but then again I never saw my father's passing coming either (and I watched him wither right in front of me). Was it naive wishful denial? Was it just plain stupidity? Was it being caught up in all the bullshit details of the daily life we all lead??

Wishful naive denial. I really think that's what it was with me. They were my lifeline, my comfort zone, home base, safety. I'm not sure, but when she is gone, I imagine there will be a huge void in my life that I just won't ever be able to fill up. Don't get me wrong. They will always be there, but just beyond touch or communication. I already have sooo many questions for the father that is no longer here, losing my mother (as is inevitible) will require me to find a whole new inner strength on which to base my resolve to help my family on my own terms and in my own manner. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and I can already feel the weight.

But for tonight, I am just gonna watch my mom sleep and hope she is dreaming of something wonderful. I love you mom.

Wordful Wednesdays???

I was blogging recently about my incredibly gifted sister. I was trying to describe a gift she gave me last year for Xmas. It was a frame with three photos (see above). My son on top, I in the middle and my daughter on the bottom. She took all three photos in such a similar looking pose and quite sneakily I might add. When put together as they have been, the genetics just jump right off the page at you. It has been my favorite gift in recent memory. It and she and her family mean the world to me. I miss you sis!! Hugs and kisses to you and your men (husband and two sons)!! I am currently doing a similar set up, but with my mother, sister, daughter and an old photo of my mom's mom (the pose is sooooo close to being the same). I'll post it to show how it went later. And sorry about the flash glare, best I could do during lunch and with little time.

Some days....

are better than others. After spending long hours in the dead of night by my father's bedside, watching his body slowly erode from under his cognizant mind. I have gotten quite used to the spectrum of quality in an aging person's life. Some days he loved the world and his life because he was still here. Other days....well, not so much so.

My father was afflicted with Parkinson's Disease. Some of you may not know what exactly Parkinson's Disease is, so I will give a brief explanation. You lose nerve impulse control between your brain and your muscles. He was diagnosed back in 1998, and lived with it until his passing in November of 2002. My dad was an intellect. He graduated high school over in lil' ol' Abilene. He then enrolled at Hardin Simmons in Abilene before tranferring to The University of Texas. He got his degree and enlisted in the military. Officer candidate school was just a stepping stone for him to start his long military career. He retired from the reserves a "full bird" and while completing his twenty, he managed a masters in education from Sul Ross. After all this and a second long career in the oil bidness, he still managed to obtain TWENTY-ONE more associate degrees from the local junior college. He was still enrolled and taking classes up to the point when his disease literally kept him from going to class. My father was also a very good athlete. Besides being a golden gloves boxing champ out of Abilene, he also excelled in basketball, handball, volleyball and more.

So when his body started shutting down, the doctors offered him two different types of medication to help with the complications of the disease. The first drug helped with the body's motor skills (walking, getting up and down, using the hands, etc.), while the second drug helped with the speech control. He had to choose between mobility and communication. He chose communication, which meant he had to sacrifice his independence in mobility. Not an easy choice. Now you might understand how I could watch his body erode, while keeping him company so that his razor sharp mind could still get some exercise. It was by his bedside in the dead of night, watching football games and old movies, that we hashed out a lot of our hard feelings over a few rum drinks. Many were our conversations and many were the regrets we each had, but we could both see clearly now that we loved each other very much. There is much I would like to redo in my life, as there was for him.

Fast forward to yesterday. It has been almost six years since my dad has passed. Now, my mother has been diagnosed with.....Parkinson's Disease. For the love of me, I can't remember the names of the drugs my dad took. I do see my mother's physical abilities withering away. Her mind is not quite all there sometimes, too. So, as I do some of the neccesary chores around mom's house, I got really depressed when I saw her with her head in her hands, just slowly scratching at her scalp. I asked what she was doing and she couldn't remember. It was like she was in La-La land. It just crushed me. Such is life, today may well be a better day. I hope for her that it is.