Tag: worry

There I Was Dream –

In the military again. Young. Off again on some special assignment.

First, I was trying to get there. Mom – the young woman of memory – gave a huge smile and a wave and told me, good luck, I’ll see you later. I was surprised and pleased that she was there to see me off.

A group of us were traveling together. We were each taking our own gear with us. Some of them had lost their gear.

I realized, they put it down in a marshy, muddy area, and their stuff sank. As they moaned and groaned, I told them, I know exactly where it sank, and showed them where to dig. They did and quickly recovered it.

We arrived where we were supposed to be. Outdoors, it was a strange setup: a large semi-circle of people seated at tables. Men and women. Seemed to be civilians, and older. It had been heavily raining and brooding clouds kept it dark.

Parallel and behind the semi-circle of people were our lockers where we were to stow our gear. We were being called out in units. I’d been fully prepared but now – damn it, I couldn’t find some of my gear. I also discovered, and then recalled, oh, yes, “I need to order a new phone.”

A little panicked, I was scrambling to get the right gear. Like, how the hell did that happen?

I noticed many others were in the same mode, alleviating some of my worries. I then managed to find the needed gear except –

Underwear. Where the hell was my underwear?

I knew I packed it but I couldn’t find it, and everything was getting muddy.

Dream end

0

The Aircraft Learning Dream

I was traveling again, a younger person but adult. With many others, all strangers. Most of them were traveling in groups.

I was traveling light, with just a few things. It was cold, kind of dark, as we headed from one classroom to our next one: a jet aircraft.

The jet was spacious and well-lit, with many halls, classrooms, and lounging areas. People rushed around, hurrying to get to preferred spots. As the jet took off, I wandered around, looking for a place to sit. As I did, I would think, oh, no, I forgot something – book – which was green — phone, laptop. But then an insight would come: no, I didn’t bring it, or no, there it is, over there.

Almost all the other travelers were females. They seemed younger than me. Classes and their locations were announced. I tried to get there but found I was too late: the class was always full.

Meanwhile, people left things on their seats to save them, so I couldn’t use their seats while they were in class.

Becoming very dejected, I passed a man in the hall who asked, “Do you need a seat?”

“I do,” I replied.

“Come on,” he said with a gesture, turning away. “I can find something for you on the flight deck.”

We got up there. He explained to the crew up there what was going on. Another crew member said, “We have no problem with letting him sit up here but we just gave the seats away to others, right before you arrived.”

They all apologized and I headed away, looking to see, do I have my phone? My green book? Laptop? As I confirmed, yes, I had those things, they announced the flight was due to land soon.

Dream end.

0

The Mom Exchanges

Mom, 90, suffering from several medical conditions, in on many medications. My sisters, Gina, Lisa, and Sharon, live not far away from Mom. An intelligent person and retired nurse, Mom moved into assisted living this year after a suicide threat which she denies.

Before that, she lived with her partner, Frank, in her own home. That changed when Frank died last October.

Gina took Mom in and gave Mom a room with a bathroom. Mom was initially happy but slowly professed that she hated it and wanted to leave and go back to her house. She then began accusing her son-in-law, Pat, of ‘using a device on her head to hurt her’, spying on her, and hiding her TV control.

Pat denies it all. Pat and Mom had a great relationship until five months ago, when Mom’s accusations began. Last September, he converted her back porch into a room so she could live in her house on one level. After Frank died, Pat set up the room for Mom in his house.

Mom has a consistent pattern of accusing others of being mean and hateful to her. She did that with Frank. I never witnessed Frank being like that.

When Mom moved in with Gina, Mom began accusing her of being mean and hateful. I visited for a while and never witnessed Gina being mean and hateful. Those traits are completely contrary to Gina’s personality.

I called to chat with Mom last September. She launched into a diatribe about Frank being mean to her. I said, “Mom, I’m not listening to this. We’ll talk later.” I waited for her to respond. She said, “Okay.” We said good-bye.

Mom reported to Gina that that I’d been mean and hateful and had hung up on her.

Mom told us that Lori is being mean and hateful to her.

Lori at the assisted living facility told us that Mom has given a notice to vacate. Mom told them she plans to return to her home.

Mom’s physical therapist, Jennifer, visited Mom this week. Mom claims that Jennifer witnessed Lori being mean and hateful.

Gina called Jennifer. Jennifer said she witnessed a heated exchange between Mom and Lori. She also reported that Mom is thriving there. She’s using a walker instead of a wheelchair, socializing, and eating well.

Mom told Jennifer that the conversation she was having with Lori was about moving out. Mom insists she’s moving back to her house. Jennifer related to Gina that she told Mom, “I don’t recommend that you leave here or go back home. You’re doing well here but you’re not capable of living on your own.”

I texted Mom today:

“Hey Mom, heard your plans to leave the facility in April. I want to understand your plan so I can stay in the loop. Where are you planning to go and have you talked to anyone about helping you move?”

Mom responded:

“I’m going to my house where I don’t have to pay 5500 a month and be screamed at by this boss. I’m having diarrhea today and last night. I finally got two Imodium‘s but I only have one big pad left many small ones Jennifer, my physical therapist stopped to see me on Tuesday and heard LORI screaming at me about medicine from Sam’s. She said oh, Dee this is too stressful for you. I said I know I’m paying her a fortune to be screamed at. I have asked Lisa when she brings me pads if she ever does to take me home no answer. I’ll probably have to pay Uber. I have to be out by April 18. I’m very surprised to hear from you.”

I replied:

“Thanks for explaining, Mom. I understand you want to go back home. Who is confirmed to help you get there with your things, and what day are you planning to leave?”

She answered:

“No one is confirmed to help me get there with my things. Gina and Sharon don’t speak to me and Lisa doesn’t answer me. All my friends are dead. Ever since Frank died how my children have turned against me, even though I went to the hospital in Gina was proving wrong. The night. I went to the hospital Pat said to me I need to talk to you. I was crying so hard. I said Pat all you have to do is say three words it’s all true and he did not do it so I lost my whole family.”

My sisters, Gina and Lisa, were with Mom when she went to the hospital. Pat was not. Gina and Lisa deny that Mom’s conversation and crying took place.

And that’s where we now stand.

4

For Donald

I live a dull life

Behind the blinds

Peering out to see –

Is anyone trying

to get inside?

Watching all those neighbors

Coming and go

Wondering if the police

Are ever gonna show.

The crimes they’re committing

In my mind

Are the terrible most worse crimes

Of all time.

I need a big stick

To beat them all down.

Until I do, they’ll treat me

like some big orange clown.

0

Ambush

The lens that I roll and find
In the dumping ground
Of my mind
Moving from cat
To food
Life and Mom
Conversations
Time

I search for a point
Feet on bridge
As Neurons
Sing
Telling me often
Let it be

Jamming with tunes
Coming up and in
I circle
Slipping on words
And sounds
Picking apart

Pieces of lint

0

Breathe

sighing

reading

thinking

restless

my mind twists and seethes

trapped

with mindless energy

about how the world

has changed

worrying

speculating

drifting

I wonder

what will come to be

roaming through memories

of hopes

history

half-remembered

dreams

darkness

spreads

across the nation

troubles

rise

around

the world

I struggle

to find the shadows

or how

we

once were

now I find

I’m frankly

a little

out of breath

I need to go somewhere

quiet

and give my brain

a rest

1

Satyrdaz Theme Music

We’ve come to a new 2026 Satryda. Falling on January 10, nothing in my introduction to it portends to anything significant — yet; the day is early.

46 F outside, with clouds and stagnant air planning to shuffle us into the low to mid 50s. Despite storm warnings about snow, none materialized in our town. The surrounding mountains received a chunk. As that’s where the snowbank resides, it’s reassuring that some moisture has been stocked up for the summer. More is still needed.

I’m thinking about patterns today — life, daily, political, weather. A dream inspired the initial thought flow. Then my usual consultation of temperatures, my weather cat — Papi — and the view outside intersected.

Weather shapes our lives, as does technology, relationships, and modern politics. Each day is a snapshot of the present, but we can see the past and future in it. Interpretations of those depends on which details we notice and how we apply knowledge to what we see.

More, some let themselves try to see less to force it into a preconceived framework. They work to strengthen their framework by challenging less.

Conversely, I think knowing less weakens our framework. I always fear that I’m limiting myself, that I’m chasing facts to support assumptions. I know I have biases which emerge to curtail my views.

I can see that happen in the entire spectrum of myself, whether the thoughts are about writing, fiction, sports, weather, politics, or personal relationships. All these things have their own spectrums. I move along them, and they move along me. The resulting dynamics are always complex.

I want to have a fidelity to truth, facts, honesty, and history. But it seems like we’re living in a period in which those elements are under consistent attack.

At the same time, I remind myself that I’ve never lived in another period. I can easily visualize hundreds or thousands of years ago when people struggled to understand and learn the truth and apply it to their lives, just as I’m doing now.

The more things change, the more they remain the same. That’s the essence of all of these thoughts about patterns.

Getting involved with my thoughts, The Neurons planted “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac in the mental morning music stream. The Neurons weren’t focused on the dream aspect, though; they came through with the song’s first lines.

“Well there you go again, you say you want your freedom. Well, who am I to keep you down? It’s only right that you should play the way you feel it.”

Because, you know, beyond all those facts and truths, we’re always dealing too with emotions.

Hope this Satyrda finds you safe and comfortable in your patterns, ready to move forward in positive ways. Cheers

0

Watching, Breathing, Wondering: Thoughts on a Nation on Edge

My friend is a deep-dyed liberal. He’s also a hunter and has a concealed carry permit.

He said he told his son, “Man, if I’m there and I see those ICE agents acting like they do, bullying and attacking people, I would have to step and intervene. Then I added to him, I guess I’m going to need to start carrying.”

I said, “You’ll need to be a good shot. They armor up.”

He nodded. “I am a good shot.”

I wonder, how many other Americans are thinking like my friend?

I also wonder, is that what Trump and his minions want, to create armed confrontation?

Armed confrontation would give Trump the excuse he’s desperately hungered for to use the U.S. military to attack American citizens. During his first term, he was interested in having the military shoot protestors in the leg or the foot.

Since taking the oath to “protect, defend, and preserve the Constitution” to begin his second term, Trump used excuses to deploy National Guard forces to multiple U.S. cities, including Portland (Oregon), Los Angeles, Washington, D.C., and now, Minneapolis in Minnesota.

These actions and statements he made, such as “The next time, I am not waiting,” (March, 2023) are concerning. I can’t know his intent—but the pattern is difficult to ignore.

I worry that Trump’s plan is to provoke violent resistance. That would generate excuses for him to use the military and law enforcement to attack people. From that, only small steps would be needed to establish a police state.

That’s where I’m at today, sitting and watching, breathing with concern about my nation and the President of the United States in 2026.

6

The Writing Moment

I’d been to the coffee shop, typing, writing a new novel. I love writing new novels, letting the ideas jump out of my head and into a document. They’re often crazy, and I frequently struggle to get it right on the digital pages.

Reaching home, talking with my wife, I shook my head. “I really wrote some weird stuff today.” I was honestly baffled. “It wasn’t planned at all. I don’t know where it’s going.”

It scared me, too. My nerves were screaming, that stuff is all so crazy. And it was completely contrary to what I’d planned. Yet, you know, it felt right.

That night, I awoke thinking about what I’d written and how it had ended. Suddenly, lights went on in my head. The dark and twisted path of the plot and story that I could barely seen was brightly illuminated. I knew what to write next, and abruptly comprehended the novel’s full course. At least for now.

Who the hell knows how it’ll change? It’s all a mystery to me. I’m just the writer.

2

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