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Nostalgia's A Weapon, They Tell Me

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{title stolen from Goodbye to Yesterday by Ben Lee} Tim, my big brother, is fifty years old. If you read my last post , it won't surprise you to hear that I have a whole bunch of feelings wrapped up in this milestone; none of them are overwhelmingly positive. But I'm working with an EMDR therapist who's helping me sort through and organize those feelings. Baby steps... When I look for joy in my childhood memories, I think of playing with Tim when were little kids, at our mom's crap shack in Brunswick, Georgia. Whisper-begging from the bottom bunk until he agreed to a few rounds of Name That Tune. Simple moments of pure joy. (Until Mom yelled at us to shush and go to sleep.) His laugh was always the best prize. And after I watched this with him, I know it still is. 
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I'm Back, Back In the New York Groove

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  {title stolen from   Back In the New York Groove   by Ace Frehly} Well hey there, Blogosphere! Is there even a Blogosphere anymore?  So, yeah, it’s been five years since I published an entry.  Here’s a quick update: -My dad is still dead . -My mom is still alive. She’s 78. -I am not a workout enthusiast anymore, but I do Pilates and I try not to eat myself out of my clothes. -I’m closer to 50 than I am to 40 . -My family survived the worst of the pandemic, and we all still like each other. -I finally took a writing class. My classmates became my pandemic writing pod and we never missed our weekly Zoom meetings. Even when Ronni lost her mom to Covid. -I never stopped writing. Now I have a writing coach who is making sure I never do. -My brother Tim still has Primary Progressive Mulitple Sclerosis . He’s almost wheelchair-bound. -My brother also has Schizotypal Disorder and engages in “magical thinking” which makes it difficult to help him understand that PPMS cannot be cured by st
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