 With a lukewarm cup a coffee by my side, I’m probably spending my last Sunday morning sitting in this backyard. As you may already know, the rug got pulled out from under us on our 9 years at this location. It was here in Alamo that we watched our kids graduate and go off the college, join the military, get married, buy homes, and make grandbabies. Lisa just finished hung up a few clothes that needed washing. The smell of the laundry is a silent reminder of everything we live for and are apparently losing.
I don’t mean to ramble on and on about this. But when faced with an unplanned event; it’s more like a funeral then a celebration. In a few of hours it may be the last time I hear the church bell ring at the First Baptist next door. Where I feel like that old pecan tree that once stood at the church. Standing strong for centuries, only to be uprooted by one storm, to be left discarded and cut into pieces. The stoic, macho half of my brain demands that I get over it already. But the inner child, that all of us wishes to ignore is screaming in pain. A pain that’s effecting a body that frankly is barely letting me hang on. So why can’t I just stop playing the wounded victim here? And suck it up and be a man and grab this situation by the balls? Well there’s a point in everyone’s life where you stare at the limits you must face. And after decades of fighting and surviving mental breakdowns and near death experiences. The anxiety and fear as found another crack in the armor that is my life. So all I can do at the moment let these emotions flow, while hopefully a situation can be found in the hands of someone else.
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 Our old Homestead in Tarrytown 2023 Got up this morning feeling a little yucky. Still I took my medicine and made my bed like a good little boy and got dressed. While sitting at my desk an old song came to mind from long ago. My wife and kids always hated it when I pulled this song out around this time of year. It’s titled, “If we make it through December” by the great Merle Haggard. If you are not familiar with the tune, I strongly suggest looking it up. It’s so downright depressing that it will surely pick you up. For me the song holds a great amount of memory, of me struggling to make a Christmas for my kids. Knowing I barely made enough money just to survive. Always depending on the generosity of family and charity to make the season a happy one for my kids.
Even after all these years, I find it hard to put these words to screen. The shame and embarrassment I felt back then crawls all over my heart even now. I’m sure there are a few of you out there that know exactly how I feel. Even when your family was pleasant and welcoming, you still felt the shame of knowing you were never good enough to take care of your own. And so through the years of watching my kids grow up and make names for themselves. The pride I do feel is oddly tainted with the stench of inadequacy and failure. But over the decades I have worn an exterior coat of toughness like a dingy armor. And while it has caused a many a contentious disagreements with my family, it has served me well to survive. So way do I write about all this gloom and doom? Why like my forefathers before me just sweep all this under the rug? I guess because I’ve allowed myself to taste the freedom of release. At first it was through religious fervor, but when I outgrew that, I turned into myself and learned to listen and forgive. Life hands us all different kinds of advantages and disadvantages. If you read my work, then you can plainly see mine. The message here is, don’t give up and at least try. Then you will find you can make it through as well.  Sandra Saxon Burnsed If I’ve learned one thing in 61 years and 11 months it’s that I am not always right. And it’s that a half-truth is just the same as a half-life. Despite how we like to paint things there are a lot more shades then just black and white. But here’s the kicker, just because a lot of people don’t think or believe the same as I do. Doesn’t mean I hate them or want to see harm done to them.
A great example of this is my father-in-law. Now for a really long, long time me and him have even seen eye to eye on a lot of things politically and even a bit morally. But it hasn’t stopped us from loving and respecting each other. Now like a lot of people of his generation, much like my Mom, he can be a bit insufferable. But we have much more in common than we’ll ever have apart. I mean I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my Mom. And my wife certainly wouldn’t be here if not for my father-in-law. But even more than just blood, there’s the friendship factor. Through social media I have made friends all over the world. And not just with people of the same cultural backgrounds. I’m on speaking terms with Europeans, South Americans, Mexicans, Eastern Europeans, Muslims, Jewish, Catholics, Protestants, Eastern Orthodox, Buddhist, Hindu, and atheist. And one thing we all hold in common is a genuine curiosity to be seen and heard, and there is nothing wrong with that. It brings to mind a young college student in which I communicate with frequently. She is of a particularly unpopular faith in this country. Through her I see a lot of what she sees from her faith and life. While I may not agree with some of her beliefs, I still have empathy for her. As I get older the importance of always being right becomes less important. It’s the heart and how you treat others that creates harmony and change.  It’s a far cry from the pleasant gnat filled afternoon of yesterday. With morning temperatures in the mid-40’s we seem to have had a nor'easter blow in last night. It’s cold enough that I had to break out the southern version of a winter parka (a cloth windbreaker) and sit out in the sun. My wife likes to say, with a certain amount of disdain, “Looks like you got what you wished for….happy?” What she fails to realize is when I said that I was 130 lbs. heavier.
Many of us think in terms of the past. And it’s true that past actions usually determine one’s future results. But people can change…if they want to. I smoked a pipe like a chimney in winter and I eat my feelings for way too many years. But I learned from those mistakes. So while I’m still paying the price for those past mistakes, I’m trying to do better. But damn this wind is slicing right through me. I could having easily kept right on smoking and continued to eat my feelings. But I know better than that. I’m not saying that I’m in anyway superior. Maybe it’s because I am weaker. I mean it was the fear of dying that kept my ass alive and vigil for the last several years. Unlike my parents that for whatever their reasons didn’t say on top of their health issues. I do my damnest to stay vigilant and aware. I mean I still have goals I want to meet and dreams I’ve yet to realize.  With a steady breeze blowing out of the north, I guess our little cool down has begun. It’s certainly a pleasure not to be eaten by sand gnats this late in the morning, which is one of my favorite things about fall. At the moment I got the bed sheets hanging on the line, while next door the good Baptist are cleaning up the remaining debris from the fallen pecan tree.
Sitting under what little bit of shade I got left, I did get up and got vote early this morning. Surprisingly they weren't too many people in line, but considering this is Alamo, GA (population 3000) that shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. For whatever reason I’m feeling a bit restless lately. I’m not sure if it’s anything to do with my upcoming retirement or maybe the aftereffects of the storm. I guess it really doesn’t matter since the yards clean and for a while now, I’ve has nothing but time in my hands. To any of my older readers out there, do you ever feel this way? Lord knows I don’t need another hobby, those things cost too much anyway. But I don’t want to just whittle out and fade away. Maybe I should explore some new avenues with my writing. Maybe expand my website to include different material. But who am I kidding with that, no one wants to read anymore anyway. And I’m certainly not going the video route (I don’t have enough cleavage). So I guess if anything, keep your opinions open. Find the thing you have a passion for doing and create away. Even if it’s something as outdated as writing. Remember what Ricky Nelson said: “You see, you can’t please everyone. So you got to please yourself…”  Grandson's Flag Football Team In case you hadn’t figured it out, I can have some pretty vivid dreams. Tonight I dreamed of my grandparents old place on Oak Street in Bloomingdale, Georgia. I dreamed of my grandmother, an uncle, my sister, and one of my grannies old neighbors. While I have yet to analyze the meaning of the dream. I did found it to be comforting in a strange kinda way.
Anyway the dream has now turned to mist somewhere in the back of my brain. But it did bring to mind that my grandma would have been 102 years old and the neighbor even older if they were living today. It’s funny even now I don’t quite think of myself in terms of old age. Even though my body reminds me of that fact every single day. Although my doctor’s like to remind me that my body is a ticking time bomb. My mischievous mind often falls back into old habits of my youth. Still to see people that I miss and feel those same emotions I felt back then is a comforting thought. Rather it was when I was the rebellious son or the not a care in the world child. Those images of me playing in my head, are not those of the grumpy old man my adult children see. Relegated to slide conversations, while the grown folks (my children) are having real discussions. I can’t help but laugh thinking about that shit. But to be honest I don’t mind watching them grow a few of their own grey hairs. Still it’s kinda strange to see the past, present, and future all role around so freely in my head.  Sitting under what’s left of my shade, my landlord is out clearing the rest of the limbs that blew down courtesy of Helena. In the air I can hear sound of chainsaws and the smell of burning limbs in the air. I suppose I should help my landlord clean the yard. But my boys already moved the limbs to edge the of the yard, where Mr. Brown could cutting them to be picked up. Other than that it’s a reasonably quiet in the neighborhood with the exception of the EMC guys next door working nonstop.
Ain’t really much going on other than that, I did have a rough night last night. But I assume it was because of the cool weather and having to fight the cat for cover. Now I’m getting a hint of someone cooking barbecue nearby. I assume it’s over at the EMC where they are probably fixing something for the many crews out working. But time is often a cruel master, robbing you of your skills and abilities that came to us so casually in our youth. But as I ponder these truths my mind eases with each passing day. That’s because worry whittles away at the vitality and strength I once had. But it’s peace thoughts, love, and planning that polishes the grain. The young have so much energy, still as they grow older the responsibilities of life begin to take their time and energy away. So as a reminder learn to pace yourself. Learn to accept the fact that your time and abilities aren’t limitless. So just as I have start making plans for your future. With this storm my kids have really stepped up to look after me, their mother, and their special needs brother. In fact I have them putting together legal plans for their mother and brother's future. So with the passing of time my fears are subsiding, and in the grand scheme of life that’s all anyone can ask.  To show you how Southern me and my family are, it was 46 degrees this morning. When I got up our oldest son was wearing a sweater, my wife was breaking out the winter clothes, and the cats were under the covers. It’s funny how we can put up with hurricanes, tornadoes, heat waves, and river flooding. But if the temperature gets below 50 degrees, we scramble for cover. Still it’s a bright sunny day outside with the gentle moaning of chainsaws in the air. Our EMC neighbors still haven’t slowed down with a number of added crews working on the rural powerlines. I’m sure their all anxious to get done knowing they will all be headed to Florida next.
The pleasant Fall weather has really helped me got over the thoughts of that frightening night. While the aftereffects linger on next to the roadways and in other people’s yards. Other than the increased traffic and apparent shortages at gas stations and grocery stores, life is returning back to normal. So while I am inherently not able to withstand the riggers of life in the cold. At least with the love and support of our friends and family, plus the compassion of our neighbors, we can survive a many a struggle. Now if we can just relearn to apply that same philosophy to those that are different than ourselves. “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12 (NIV)  Got up this morning feeling pretty anxious, which shouldn’t come as no surprise considering my family history. I’ve always been considered being made of that same sturdy stock. But once the crisis is over as with most, that’s when the nerves kick in. So it isn’t surprising that after Hurricane Helene I would begin to feel the stress and anxiety I suppressed during those dark hours. Today is now two weeks since the storm hit, most anyone in the area has there power back on. Most of the racking and tree cutting has been done in peoples yards. With all their debris piled neatly next to the street. Even now a crew of tree and debris movers is working outside removing the piles of limbs.
But still at night the haunts come back, in the form of vivid stressful dreams. Were I’m running or driving or riding a horse from an unseen enemy. Along with the stressful dreams is the uncontrollable digestive issues that plague throughout the night. Usually occurring during my deepest REM sleep. These are situations I usually meet head-on and eventually they’ll die out after a few days. But lately they seem to be hanging on tight causing me discomfort and fatigue both mentally and physically. As I stated in my last post I’ve been pulling out my bag of tricks to overcome my symptoms meditation, breathing, journalling. And while it works to an extent the symptoms keep coming back. Over analyzing as I always do. I can only guess it’s the steady reminders of the storm that have set me back. Like the multitude of fallen trees, the debris, and lifeless in my backyard after being stripped of all its leaves. While crews have started the enormous tasks of clearing up, my mind still has plenty of cleaning up to do on its own. I suppose I should end this on an optimistic note. But my friends and followers in Florida and the Carolinas may think differently. But it’s a gorgeous shiny day outside, the tree removal crew has picked up the remaining pecan limbs from the yard. So while the physical scares are hauled away, let’s be mindful of the inward scars that need to heal. Of the lives forever changed by the wind and rains of life. Here are a few organizations that offer support groups or resources for individuals dealing with trauma:
 I messed up my own sleep yesterday by getting up early and by later taking a late nap. Then at my dear wife’s instance going to bed around nine in the evening. Now it’s nearly two in the morning and I’m wide awake. But it wasn’t my wife or my late nap’s fault that woke up so early. No, it was the painful explosion occurred in my gut. It’s not a pleasant subject to talk about, but it is a reality I’ve lived with for several years.
I’m always trying to connect the dots. I suppose it comes from my curiosity as a kid and the trade in which I’m trained… analyst. But never since the stressful task of living through our recent hurricane and its aftermath. I’ve been having real trouble with my digestive system. Without giving away too much detail it’s been quite painful and unpredictable. Recently my issues followed a morning to afternoon pattern, usually ending before the evening. But lately it’s a late night through mid-morning pattern of discomfort. As always I deal with it by taking my medicine and watching what I eat. But over the last few days the pattern is getting more…intense. Almost to the point of unpredictability. So what do you do? Most of my doctors offices are overrun or completely shutdown due to the storm. But as I ponder the question, I think it has more to do with post traumatic stress. I believe at night I’m reliving the stress of the last few weeks now the things have settled. It’s funny how stress shows up in my life both physically and mentally. It always seems once I patch one hole stress and anxiety comes leaking through another. So as I dig through my arsenal of weapons (medication and mindfulness practice) to patch yet another hole. Always make time to connect the dots with what maybe troubling your own life. Don’t let stress, anxiety, and discomfort win. |
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October 2025
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