Hi, My Name is LisaPie

And all you 12-steppers just said "Hi Lisa Pie" in your heads, didn't you?  I am a self-professed recovering codependent person.  If you had told me 10 years ago that I was codependent I would have laughed at you and shown you the door.  If you had suggested to me that my way of handling things wasn't working and I need to learn a new way, I would have told you that my way was just right and it was all those OTHER jack wagons who were impeding the progress I had so carefully laid out.

Fear and a need to try and control things in your life and around you and in your loved ones' lives is a full-time job.  A full-time job with no benefits and lots of heart ache and resentment.  And it will suck the life right out of you and leave you with sadness and sometimes bad health due to focusing so much on fixing others and ignoring your own self.  That is after you damn near kill your alcoholic/addict with kindness trying to handle everything for them.

If I were to list here all the completely crazy things I have done that made perfect sense to me at the time your own head might explode.  You might start to wonder how I am able to get up every day and walk around like I have good sense.  And this was all back when I thought I only had one addict in my life.

You know how they say that you are given a lesson over and over again until you get it right?  Just recently I was listening to what is called a "speaker tape" even though it is now on CD rather than tape.  And it was a man speaking to a gathering of AA and Al-Anon members.  What he said was so perfectly in tune with my life he could have been speaking directly to me and about me.  And it was as if a light had been turned on in a dark corner of my brain where I was keeping all the files that would show me how codependent I really am.  Now in order for that particular analogy to make any sense you should know that I picture my brain much like an old, old library with nothing but card catalog file drawers.  And all my thoughts, memories, etc are all in there.  So of course, as I have gotten older and older I get more and more file drawers for all of these things.  That's why it sometimes takes me a while to find the right drawer and rifle through it for the exact thought I am looking for.  This is my story and I am sticking with it.

So what happened when that light was turned on was this:  I was suddenly aware of all the times I had chosen the addicted person, the alcoholic, the person with the most stuff to work on to be attracted to. I can pick out a person with an addictive personality at 20 paces.  Now to be fair, they tend to be funny, inviting, smart, interesting people.  But there is something in me that is drawn to them like a moth to a flame, or you could say like an alcoholic to a bottle of vodka.  And I mean friends, boyfriends, lovers, all people. There before me was this long list of people that I had to look at and take stock of.  What is the deal that I never saw this before?  The speaker on the tape/CD said this "if you are ever questioning whether you think you might be an alcoholic and want an answer here is a surefire way to find out:  just come up to me and ask "do you find me attractive?" and  that is exactly what I do!

How did I get to be 55 years of age before I was aware of this about myself?  I can't answer that. And here's a better question:  how is it that my chemical makeup is such that I am drawn to the addictive person rather than to the drugs or the alcohol?  I mean, I have used alcohol and cigarettes and some drugs in my life, but I could always quit.  And I have.  I quit smoking cigarettes 35 years ago.  I quit taking drugs/smoking pot not long after that.  And I have gradually cut back on my alcohol consumption to the point where I might have 6 or 8 drinks a year.  That has come about due to having arthritis and other health issues that require medication and I don't want to overload my liver with the meds and the alcohol.  It's just not a big deal for me.  Not like eggplant parmigiana.  Now, that is a big deal to give up.  I am certainly not trying to make light of people who have an addiction that they are struggling with. I am only pointing out that this is one way I can see that I am not a member of that tribe.  Anyhoo, I don't know how I could NOT see this as a pattern in my life except to say that it sure is easy to walk around with blinders on and not notice the big obvious elephant in the room.

I am now a loud and proud member of the struggling to improve codependent crew.  This will be a life-long endeavor for me.  Reading books, doing some step work, going to meetings are a part of my life.  I want to be better.  I want to be a healthy example of what you can be if you are willing to take the hard looks at yourself and face up to what you have done and what you can do differently.  And I will most likely be a glaring example of how to fuck things up occasionally.  But I am trying and learning and growing.  And I am here if you ever need to talk or need something because that is part of who I am; I am a nurturer and a care-giver.  As one of my friends from the meetings said "I never thought I was controlling, I always thought I was just being helpful!"

And just to be a little bit more helpful here is a list of some books that are outstanding:

 

Actually, if you go to Melody Beattie's website you can read all about her and all her great books.  These are just 2 of hers that have been really helpful to me.  The one by Sarah Hepola is new and very good.  I was surprised at how many things she wrote about that applied to me.  And the Daily Meditation one by Misti B I just got and am just starting it.  She is taking a humorous approach to the daily meditations that are usually quite serious.  I am loving what I am reading so far.

Hope you have a great day out there!

Health matters and such

I decided to strike while the iron was hot.  And in typing that I FINALLY understand that damn saying!  Yes!

But in my case it means more about continuing to write now that I have gotten the momentum rather than being hot, sweaty and an ironworker.

I do not remember ever, ever blogging about my health or health issues.  Either the physical or the emotional ones.  Now, that doesn't mean I haven't it just means I don't remember it.  But if you asked me I would tell you I am pretty healthy.  Healthy for a short fat person anyway.  I mean, my blood pressure is always low, my temp is always on the low side, my blood sugar remains level, that sort of thing.  However, my ailments were mounting.  First there was the flares of arthritis in my fingers.  I remember clearly the first time I felt that shooting, stabbing pain in my finger.  It was in 1997 when we had just moved from Buenos Aires to Santiago, Chile and I sort of assumed it had to do with the carrying and unpacking of boxes.

After the finger then it moved to a different finger.  And occasionally, like every year or two, not anything you could really see a pattern in, my lower back would go out.  Sciatica is a bitch, let me tell you.  After we moved here I got sick in the fall and everyone said "oh, your body is just adjusting to all the crap in the air.  Once you go through a full year you will acclimate."

This is a big fat lie.  Every single spring and fall since I have been sick with all the sinus and throat stuff.  And it seems to get worse every year.  And this year has been the mother of all illness years. For 1 year now I have had what they call a frozen shoulder (adhesive capsulitis) and I have done 9 months of physical therapy and have about 85 - 90% of my range of motion back.  While that was going on I had the worst sciatica I have ever had kick in and I was down.  It was excruciating. And before THAT healed up I started with the sinus, cough stuff.

I said to myself, "hey, let's be proactive and get this treated asap and not let it go into bronchitis like last year".  This was the first of April and 4 1/2 months later and oh so many doctors and prescriptions and x-rays and finally CAT scans they finally diagnosed me with a bad sinus infection and pneumonia.  I am currently on my 5th round of antibiotics along with a shit ton of other drugs. I don't like taking this stuff.  I would rather keep my liver around for the rest of my hopefully long life, thank you very much.  Oh, and every thing I have is an inflammatory issue.  The arthritis, pneumonia, everything.

And I started doing what I do best which is to worry and project possible events in the future that could be horrible.  What I was seeing is that having one health scare on top of the next and then the next before any of them could be cleared up was not boding well for the coming months.  And I got determined to put myself on the top of my list and do whatever I can to get healthy.

So I talked with a friend of mine who is a nutritionist and we are working on getting my adrenals and kidneys working and my lymph moving and that seems to involve a lot of cleansing and detoxing, so far.

I am not sure how well all this is working while I am still taking the medications for the pneumonia, but I am hopefully making some good habits that will be there to kick in once the meds are finished. What it seems to entail is getting rid of the meat, dairy and gluten to get detoxed.  A vegan, gluten-free diet, if you will.

I have ordered some supplements that are arriving today and once I get things going I will post some updates on what is working and what isn't.  Also, I am scheduled to see the pulmonologist next week to see about biopsying the nodules in my lungs from the damn pneumonia.  Which sounds scary, but if it will get rid of the coughing I have been doing since the first of April, I am all for it.  This is month 5 of The Cough That Wouldn't Quit.  I have become a recluse because I don't want to be annoying to others.  I am so annoying to my own self with all the damn coughing.  Other than the coughing, I have absolutely no energy, no stamina.  I swear I get one thing done in a day and then I am wiped out.  I am blaming that on running at 93% oxygen saturation for the last 4 months.  Also, I am too tired to run two thoughts together.  You might be shocked at how long it is taking me to just type this!

The plan is to get rid of the pneumonia and the sinus infection and the fatigue and to gain some energy, some health and good spirit.  Please, wish me well and send some good thoughts my way when you can.

Let's celebrate life

Could we celebrate life and those who love it for a change?

I don't mean to be unkind or unfeeling, but seriously?  Whitney Houston is dead.  She is yet another in a long line of celebrity/performers who can't seem to get a handle on their addictions.  And that is sad.  But it is sad in a way that is different than mourning someone who gets hit by a train or dies of cancer.

Yes, addiction is a disease.  But it has a component to it that involves free will and choice.  And as sad as all this is, there is a part of me that just wants to remind people of that.  She was a smart woman and she knew that any time she picked up a pill bottle, it could be the last time.

I would like to take this opportunity to say how much harder it is for those that I know and love who work through their addiction on a day-to-day basis and have been doing so for 30 days, for 4 years, for 20 years, for 36 years. To make the hard choice, the not-near-as-much-fun choice each and every day, THAT is what we should celebrate.

I don't want to say too much and break the anonymity of people I love, but this is what happens when you get cavalier with your sobriety, when you think you can handle life alone, without your support system and without giving all the power over to God.  You take some of that power back for yourself and you can have disastrous results.  We as mere mortal humans have to know our place in the scheme of things.

So if you are one of the many, many out there struggling on a daily or hourly basis with addiction, please know that I celebrate you.  I celebrate you every time you think of picking up the bottle/pills/needle/whatever and choose to call your sponsor, or ask for help, or pray, or go to a meeting instead.  It may not get easier but it will get to be more of a first response.

I am not at all sure that I have the kind of strength and resolve it takes to beat an addiction and keep working on sobriety, so I stand humbly in awe of those of you who do.

You inspire me.

You inspire me to be better.  To keep working on myself to be the best I can.  To keep working to be healthier, spiritually, mentally and physically.

And to the others who might be reading that are still struggling and wanting to make better, healthier choices for themselves before the next wrong decision could be the last decision, please know that it is never weak to ask for help and support.  It is the strongest thing you can do, to lift yourself up and say "I am worthy".  Please keep striving and asking and praying.  Minute by minute, if necessary.  You are worth it.

Worst Blogger Ever Returns

Hey there!  Yes, it has been 2 full weeks since I last posted anything.  Yes, I do realize I am in the Worst Blogger Ever category.  But, I have been really busy.  For reals.

My sweet little Rachel Pie is home and we have been busy staying up damn near all night long playing cards, drinking tea, drinking eggnog, crocheting, watching Christmas movies, you know, the usual.

Plus there have been many days of trudging through the grocery store to get everything we need to make:

A. Chex Party Mix.  It is not the holidays around here without tons and tons of Chex Party Mix. My s-i-l and I both make it and we go through that stuff like there's no tomorrow.

B. Tamales.  Tamales are a traditional thing to make for Christmas eve and we really try to make good ones and have enough to get through New Year's.

C. Christmas candy and treats to pass out to the neighbors.

D. Regular meals during all of this holiday shenanigans.

Now about the candy, let me tell you this, I got the recipe from the blog of someone else, and since I haven't asked her permission to send you over there, I won't do that just yet.  But if she tells me "yes, please send your 5 readers over here" I will do just that.  I got the recipe she calls Crock Pot Candy and thought it seemed like a really fun idea.  So I bought all the ingredients and did as it told me to layer them up in the crock pot and leave them for 3 hours.  DO NOT TOUCH OR STIR FOR THREE HOURS! And then you stir it all up and drop by spoonfulls into little miniature cupcake papers to set up.

I left it the requisite 3 hours and went in to find a 2 inch thick wall all the way around the inside of the crock pot of burnt all the way to charcoal mess.  It was horrendous.  You have never smelled anything so gross.  Not to mention it took days to soak, scrub and chisel that crap out of the crock pot and try to get rid of the burnt smell.

I got a few more ingredients and tried again.  I'm so brave, right?

This time I checked it after 1 hour and it was almost ready.  After 1 1/2 hours it was perfect.  My crock pot must run really hot in the low heat button.  I don't know what's up with it.  But half the time was just right for my crock pot.  I guess crock pots are like microwaves in that they are each a bit different and quirky.

So Rachel Pie and I got all the little shiny gold and silver papers ready and dropped all the ooey gooey goodness in to them and I added some crushed peppermint on top for festiveness.  We packaged these in little tins with gold tissue paper and passed them out to the neighbors.  And within an hour of returning home several of them had called to say how much they loved the candy.  Now I don't know about you, but when people come calling with treats I tend to put them on the holiday table to serve along with all my other goodies.  I don't generally open the package and scarf them down right there at the door.  But that is what they seemed to do, and they all loved them.  New recipe to add to the holiday repetoire.

Today is our 30th wedding anniversary.  Can you believe that?  Mr. Big Ed and I are officially old farts if we are that damn old.

Here's something else you aren't going to believe!  (Lisa Pie's blog, where you come to find the unbelieveable and be astounded)  Mr. Big Ed is known far and wide by his lack of the shopping and gifting gene.  The man just doesn't like to shop and is oblivious to gifts, getting or receiving.  It has taken a lot of years for him to get to the point where he is today.

In fairness, it has taken me a lot of years to learn to tone it down when gifting to him, because his not wanting a lot of stuff and a lot of fuss made over him is not a character flaw.

So when we exchanged our anniversary gifts, I almost fell out of my chair when I opened the box to find a 36 inch strand of Tahitian black pearls.

I'll just let that sentence stand alone and let that thought soak in.  Pearl is the traditional gift for 30 year anniversary.  Black pearls are one of the things that would be on my bucket list of things to acquire.

I may have toned down my gift giving just a tad too much, since all I got him was a cute little thing to heat up his towels for after the shower.  I am not saying it's a crap gift, but next to black pearls?  It didn't look all that awesome.  I hope he enjoys it as much as I will enjoy those pearls!

Papa

Today would be my Papa's 73rd birthday.  He only made it to 57 and a couple of weeks.  He has been on my mind a lot this past week or so.

We used to have 5 generations of family alive.  My great-grandmother, my grandma, Papa, me and my kids.  My dad died in 1995 and not long after that his grandmother died and just this past November my grandma passed away.  That leaves me as the oldest generation on that side of the family.  How the hell did that happen?  I don't remember graduating up from the "kids' table", much less to the head of the family.


Here is a little retrospective of my Papa through the years.  The first is of he and I when I was 4 1/2 months old (apparently my mama was quite specific about the age I was in my baby pics) and this would have been right after his 21st birthday.  My son and 2 of my nephews really favor Papa and while I look a lot like him, I am a little more like my grandma.

This next one is a picture of my dad from before I was born that was in my house all my life.  It was in one of those double frames hinged together in the middle with another photo of my mama from about the same time period in the other side.  So he must have been about 18 when this was taken.  You can tell that he had very dark hair, but what you can't see is that he had the most beautiful shade of dark navy blue eyes.  All those good black Irish genes coming through!

This next one is from 1985 and is of my dad and my son together.  That day he had just popped over in the middle of the day to visit and get to hold Jonathon.  See how his shirt pockets are stuffed with papers on the right side and his left one has a pen?  Every day he loaded up his shirt pockets and that was how he stayed organized.

Look at them here really talking and looking like they connected and understood each other.  So sweet it melts my heart.

And finally here is one of 4 generations; my grandma holding my baby, me and Papa.

Happy Birthday Papa.  I miss you every day.

Grandma

Violet Mae Hoefert

July 21, 1918 - November 20, 2010

My grandma passed away on Saturday, November 20, 2010 at the age of 92 years, and almost 4 months.  The 92 years were spent full of life, being a driven, independent woman way ahead of her time in that regard and living life on her own terms.  The last 4 months were really trying and sad fighting to keep her body going.

This photo was taken on May 21, 1936 and was her high school graduation picture from Smithland, Iowa.  It is my favorite picture of her.  She had her whole life ahead of her and could do anything she wanted.  Two years later she would be married and a new mother to my father.  Not long after that, they moved with my grandfather's family away from Iowa to Harlingen, Texas.  

The marriage didn't last, and neither she nor my grandpa ever talked about it.  But she took my Papa and moved to Los Angeles and worked at a newspaper there.  Somehow they ended up in Arizona and that is where Grandma stayed the rest of her life.  She loved it there.  She lived in many different parts of the state but settled in Phoenix and lived there for the last 65 years of her life.  That is a long time to stay in one place and bear witness to all the growth and change that occurs there.

She remarried (as did my Grandpa) and gave birth to a daughter.  My Papa loved his baby sister so much.  She was always really important to him and he carried her in the softest spot of his heart.

Grandma leaves behind her daughter (my own Papa died in 1995), 4 grandchildren, we would have been 5 but my cousin was killed tragically when he was in high school.  And there are also 10 great-grandchildren.

During the 12 years that my family and I spent living as ex-patriates in Mexico and South America it meant so much to all of us that Grandma would come visit us in each place.  She loved to travel and learn all about a new place.  Grandma seemed to live her life fearlessly.  For Grandma it wasn't about collecting things, it was about collecting memories and enjoying the moment.  You know how people always say, "never met a stranger"?  Well, that phrase describes Grandma perfectly.  She was happy to while away the hours talking to whomever she met at the airport, on a bus, in a shop, just whoever.  She met some really interesting people and traded addresses and kept in contact with people.  Grandma was a letter writer.  She appreciated a hand-written letter so much more than an international long-distance phone call.  She saved these letters, all the cards and photos that people sent her in boxes.  Everything was categorized and labeled.

There is no way to talk about Grandma without mentioning dachshunds.  She loved those dogs. And over the years amassed a collection of dachshund memorabilia that you can not believe.  Two storage units full of dachshund stuff.  There are needlepoints that she worked on, postcards, jewelry, ceramic figurines, pretty much anything that can be made into the shape of a dachshund, she had.  There are copious notations for each as to provenance, dates, prices, value in today's market, etc.  She was a regular at all the antique fairs and knew all the dealers and they knew her.

My grandma was an extraordinary woman who survived divorce and living as a single mom back in the '40s and '50s when it was not nearly as common or accepted as it is now.  She herself was raised in the depression and knew the hardship of being poor and living on a farm and the hard work that entailed.  She raised her children to be honest, hardworking, educated and most of all honorable people.  I am proud to come from her stock.

This, of course, is not her real obituary.  This is just what I wanted to share here with any of you who care to read it.  I have been conspicuously absent and wanted to explain my absence and get these thoughts down.

I do know how lucky I am to have had a grandma for all these years.  I miss her greatly and am heartbroken that I won't see her again.

Gratitude

Does anyone remember last year?  I participated in a thing where each day of November, not just Thanksgiving day, you post something you are thankful for on your facebook status.  Somehow it totally escaped me this year and I got a reminder about it from my s-i-l.  Good thing it is only the 4th of the month today, so I can play catch up!

I have so much to be thankful for that it should be dead easy to come up with 30 things for this month.

My Grandma that I just spent a month with, has had a stroke and is in critical condition and being evaluated right now.  We are still inside that 48 hour window to see how much they think she can recover from this. I know this is horrible, but there is still so much to be thankful for in this particular situation.  First, that someone was with her when it happened and was quick enough to recognize the signs and call the paramedics immediately.  Secondly, the paramedics were treating her inside 30 minutes.

And right now?  I am mostly really grateful for the month I just had with her.  I cried and cried the last night there and kept feeling like it might be the last time I see her.  I hope not.  But if it is, I can also be at peace with that.  I feel like I did what I could to help her and show her how much I care.  I am grateful for that opportunity.

Even if you don't play along on facebook, maybe just say to yourself each day something you are grateful and thankful for.  It helps on those days when it is damn hard to find that one thing amidst the pile o'crap you are up against.

And I am so thankful for each of you who take time out of your day to pop over here and see what excitement I have come up with to share with you.  Thank you for doing that.  Comments from you really make my day.  Some days they may be the only conversations I have and I am truly grateful for them.

Enjoy your Thursday!