An Important Letter

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 27, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I wrote a letter to my biological father and his 2nd wife this week. It took me about 3 days to get every thing written down that I had been holding against them for the last 40 years and answer any question or accusation they made against me in the letter they sent to me on 12/22/2023. It is a terrible letter. It is an important letter.

I sent a copy to my sister, Jamie Holloway, and to my aunt. I had originally planned to send it to his work. Jamie asked me if I was sending it to his boss because I had written the address I was mailing to as his work address and wrote in 3rd person. I told her, no, I just was mailing it there. I wanted him to see it before his 2nd wife. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to humiliate him but I didn’t want to cause a problem with his work. I just didn’t know another way to get it to him without his 2nd wife having the chance to edit it or hide it from him. I have no to reason to trust her at all.

I was reeling and writhing in pain and made a post about it on Facebook. Luckily this gave a wonderful lady the opportunity to remind me why I am referring to him as my biological father or by his first name (not here); because Jesus is my real Father. Jesus wants me to forgive and give Him my pain.

My bio dad wants an apology for what he says are lies…basically he is embarrassed that family members believe my posts. I can’t help him with that. He should have thought more about his actions. I am not a liar. His lies hurt me so much, growing up, that I abhor lying and I am honest to a fault or I am silent…well I am not so silent anymore because that is not good mental health.

I have decided that he doesn’t deserve the letter. It won’t do what I want it to do. He won’t read it and say: Oh wow! I have really done terrible things to my family, I need to repent and do better. He won’t care about me any more than he ever has. He will become defensive and even more angry. In fact the letter will be exactly what he wants me to do, the reason to engage in fighting, which I don’t want to do.

So why is the letter important? Because although I have tried many times to forgive, these things are still hurting me and they replay in my mind, probably because I have OCD and PTSD and these memories and feelings become new when triggered. He might not believe in mental illness, but I don’t have that luxury. Maybe I just haven’t gone deep enough because sin against your family causes layers of things to be forgiven. But that letter is a tool. I need this letter because I can sit with my real Father and work on forgiving with a list in my hand, not because it will help my family but it will set me free.

I can’t save them. I tried. I only have control over me and I have chosen me. That is the gift of free will; it only works on yourself.

Photo Credit: Mailbox PNGs by Vecteezy

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

For anyone reading this that isn’t a Christian, unapologetically, I am a Christian, but I believe there is room for lots of beliefs and religions in the world. It is not my intent to offend people with different beliefs than I have and I would be open to open-minded conversations with no goals of changing anyone’s mind, but sharing information.

If you are interested in becoming a Christian…Do you know Jesus? Do want the Holy Spirit to fill you and give you understanding and salvation? Ask Him. Want someone to pray with you? Contact me.

Grandparents Understand

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 27, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Poetry

Nana told me grandparents understand
I had told her I was sad
I had learned late
it was my responsibility to make time
for Grandma Clem

I was baking banana bread
when she came to me
My heart felt warm
and I knew Grandma Clem
was here

She told me she knew her son
She knew what he did
It was ok I hadn’t come
to her funeral
Grandparents understand

No More Letters

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 23, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Poetry

I have been the daughter of a fool
For so long I wanted you
to remember you loved me
to choose me one time

Back when we built things together
and grew things in the dirt
and danced to Thriller and Three Dog Night
Before you dishonored our home
Before you left
Before you broke all your promises
I knew you loved me

When she announced the nuptials
we weren’t invited to
she told me you two were
more important than the rest of us
and you have proven it true many times

The letter you sent me for my birthday
implies you think I want you back
Let me be clear
I am not safe with you and her
I have know this for a long time
And unlike you
I am not a fool

The Birthday Card I Didn’t Want

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 22, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

Today I went to get a package I was expecting and was shocked to get the birthday card I didn’t want. I must have looked as terrible as I felt because Lorie asked if I was ok. I stuttered as I answered her. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised by what was in that purple envelope. I hoped for better but I am always left wanting more. It brought up a lot of memories and emotions.

In February of 2014 I was hospitalized for cellulitis that took over my left leg. From my foot to the top of my thigh it looked like my leg had been dipped in boiling barbecue sauce and swollen to a huge size. Before this I had been fervently going to therapy at a pastor’s home and working on issues I had had all my life and had moved a lot of superficial issues out of the way. This trip to the hospital was big for me. I had never had anyone help me before. I had never been able to trust anyone with myself before.

The week before I went to the hospital, I had a bad flu, following a 24 hour telethon, put on by my nonprofit. I was exhausted and the flu had caused this rash I had been nursing for years to go crazy. I didn’t have health insurance and I had been afraid to go to the doctor. A few days before I went to the hospital my family called the police because I wouldn’t go to the local hospital. They thought I was suicidal. They didn’t know anything about the process they were trying to put me into, that I wouldn’t get medical attention and that I wasn’t suicidal. Police and paramedics showed up to arrest me. I kept my head straight and proved I was not crazy or suicidal and had plans to go to Legacy Salmon Creek on a particular day. The paramedic agreed when they saw that I was trying to eat plain yogurt and broccoli, that was trying to do well by myself. He checked my vitals and agreed I was ok but that my leg was obviously sick and I better do what I promised or they would have to take me in against my will.

This over the top response of my family was out of the ordinary since they usually ignored me but I was used to their attempt at controlling me. My best friend and business partner had shown up. She had experience with people in mental distress and she was quietly explaining what would happen to me if I went with the first responders and they looked remorseful. They just wanted me to get medical attention.

The night before I let Karen G Clemenson take me to the hospital I decided to trust her with every secret I had ever kept about my body because I had no one that I trusted. This trip to the hospital was the hardest and scariest thing I had ever done until this point of my life. While I was in the hospital I had to let people help me. I wasn’t used to that. I wasn’t used to people not being disgusted with my body. I wasn’t used to not having everything blamed on my weight. I was so sick that I don’t remember most of what happened in the 4 days I was there, although I do remember them being shocked that I refused the commode and would drag my sick leg to the toilet, once Karen, who never left my side, helped me get my leg out of bed to go to the bathroom. I even showered daily until the nurses found out and let me know that with my open wounds that wasn’t ok. Because I was so active, I went home 4 days earlier than most people with my same infection.

But something else happened to me during this time of being really sick and needing Karen’s help; I had deep wounds at the top and bottom of my leg that I couldn’t dress and she was the only one that was willing to help me. Something in me broke. The thing that let me think that the way my family treated me was normal. When I got out of the hospital I had to continue to follow up with doctors and get a primary. This was when I started to learn of diagnosis that I had had for a long time, some of them probably most of my life. As the diagnosis piled up I had less and less to give to anyone and I could no longer ignore the mental illness that was plaguing me.

My business partner and best friend had become my wife and I noticed that she flinched and over reacted sometimes. After I had seen any of my family members, besides my nieces and nephews, I would dissociate and often become so depressed that I would forget to eat or take my meds and most of the time, barely got out of bed for days. A phone call could send me over the edge. I realized I needed help. I was being an abuser and I was not taking care of myself.

It took over a year to find the right meds for my mental health. It took longer to find all my diagnosis and the correct amounts of medications. I promised to always take my medications because I know when I don’t, I can become mentally abusive to Karen and she doesn’t deserve that and neither do I.

I have tried to share my diagnosis with my family. They include:

Fibromyalgia
Psoriatic Arthritis
Osteoarthritis
Lymphedema
Hiatal Hernia
Gastrointestinal Reflux Disease
Diabetes
Chronic Migraine (I have scars on my brain that prove I had this since I was a child)
Trigeminal Neuralgia
Endometrial Cancer
Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Major Depressive Disorder

My many therapist over the past 9 years have agreed I am an Emotional Neglect and Emotional Abuse Survivor and they all agreed that I needed to separate from my parents. I had hoped it could be temporary but I don’t think that is the case.

There are a lot of reasons that holidays and special occasions are hard for me and I don’t feel the need to go into detail anymore. With the death of both Nana and Grandpa this year, I feel like I need to live up to the standard they set for me. I know that I have thrown a few tantrums as I healed over the years. I needed to get out my feelings and I chose to use my blog to do that. Not really because I wanted to hurt my abusers but because I know that other people can benefit from my process. With the help of medication and therapy I have healed a lot in my brain and in my heart. I have abilities I haven’t had before and although I have the right to write and talk about my life, I don’t need to by immature about it, especially if I am aware of it so my writing has and will continue to change. This is as close to an apology as I am going to come to for what I have written in the past. I am not sorry for sharing what other people did to me.

Learning to live with all these diagnosis, that all but one will be with me for the rest of my life, has been very challenging. Mentally and physically. Sometimes it was near impossible. I lost parts of me. Some I got back and others I decided I didn’t want back. I am not a petty person, a materialistic person or even a person that likes casual things. Never during any of the years that I was suffering and learning how to live with this body that will never get better, did anyone in my family ever ask me if I needed any help or ask me why I did things the way I did. If I didn’t measure up, there was no compassion. Probably because there was no real relationship.

My wife and I have worked hard to live without the help of family (except for a few and they know who they are 🙂 ). To build our credit ratings. To build the life we want and we have made great strides. We needed this time to learn how strong we are. I am proud of us. I don’t need the validation of people that want to judge us.

Last year I mailed back the birthday check a family member sent me. I had called them to tell them about my cancer and they brought up history that, in my mind was none of their business. I did ask them to let me go. I just don’t think we can salvage anything between us. This year I got another card and a check plus a letter telling me I owe them an apology for my blog entries. I won’t be mailing the check back. I won’t spend it either. I still don’t want their money or things. I only want what I ever wanted. I wanted them to want to know me. I wanted them to hear me, see me and want to be part of my life without all the drama.

They broke every promise they ever made to me and I forgive them every time I think about it but PTSD is a bear. Pain is brand new again and again. I am sorry that they missed out on a relationship with me. I am an amazing person.

I have struggled a lot this year. The traditions I enjoy are not available to me as we still live in a hotel. With Grandpa dying only a week ago I am still reeling a bit. This is the first Christmas that is really without Nana and Grandpa… Plus I never use the address here. I have always put our business address on our letters. since this birthday card I received today was addressed to this hotel, it scared me. As a person with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I don’t need a trigger to become anxious, but seeing that address on a card addressed to me and with their name on it, felt like being kicked in the stomach. I felt like someone was spying on me. I felt unprotected. I felt violated.

I won’t be opening any mail from them anymore. I don’t have to let them abuse me anymore. I don’t want to be talked about anymore. I don’t want a relationship with their spouse who is abusive in their own way. I am done. I don’t take this lightly but I have to protect myself.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Nana Really Liked Him

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 19, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I think I met him when I was about 4 years old. He was a stylish man with black curly hair and my nana really liked him. He had a pretty smile. He was quick on his feet and he liked to play with us. I remember that quiet look of shock as I went through many stages, trying on new personas and mannerisms. I was an awkward kid that was not made for sports or even the great outdoors beyond walking on solid ground but that didn’t stop him from trying to encourage me or walking home with me covered in mud after I failed, without complaint.

“Bill” married Nana when I was about 5 1/2 years old, right about the time that my youngest sibling was born. They were married in Hawaii. Their pictures showed two beautiful people in love. They went there every year. It was their favorite place to visit, full of history and charm, which was perfect for both of them. After they were married, Nana told me I could call him Grandpa Bill. I was very concerned because I had a lot of grandpas, since I still had great-grandfathers alive and I wanted to be able to give him his own name.

When my parent’s marriage failed, Grandpa Bill became the person that came regularly to make sure that heaters and sinks worked. He made sure our house would not be lost to the bank. My grandparents helped to make sure we had what we needed to stay afloat. They would come for games, dance recitals and I would go to stay with them for a week in the summer. That was my favorite. About this time Nana told me I should just call Grandpa Bill, Grandpa. I think she thought he had earned the right to be just Grandpa, I don’t think she understood that it was special to me that he was the only grandpa that I called by his first name, but I could tell it was important to her so I tried hard to stop using his first name, but when I talked about him, I still called him Grandpa Bill, because I still had a lot of grandpas.

Grandpa was raised in Spokane, his parents were a doctor and nurse. He graduated from the University of Washington. He had served in the military, but he never wanted to talk about it, other than to let me know that the only other place, beside Longview that he had experienced rain and sun at the same time was while he was serving in Japan, so I don’t remember what branch he served in. Grandpa was an accountant. He was very intelligent and details were never wasted on him. He loved to read. Every day he read a stack of newspapers, watched the news and would also have a book he was reading. He wore coveralls when he worked and meticulously cleaned his tools after he used them. He was a bit of hoarder, but everything was tidy and had its place. He owned luggage for nearly every other decade but when he went on short stays he preferred to use a shopping bag with handles. Grandpa always thought before he spoke and did not waste words. The last time I saw him, he was having his knee replaced and his pajamas were a little worn. He liked proper pajamas with a button down top and long sleeves and matching bottoms. This was not an easy thing to find, even in Kirkland, but two shopping trips later and we finally found them in JC Penney. Thank God!

Grandpa had been married before he married Nana. He had a son and two daughters and together, he and Nana had 5 children and eventually 9 grandchildren and even more great-grandchildren.

Although this was my grandparent’s second marriage, there was nothing second place about the way that Grandpa loved his family. He didn’t have to love me but we all got 1st rate love and care from him. He was the grandpa that showed up, taught me things and listened, heard and knew me. I think that is why I appreciate his quirks because that is why he didn’t question mine.

I found out my grandpa is in Hospice on Friday December 15, 2023. Not from anyone on his side of my family but from my aunt on the other side of my family that knows that I don’t have contact with them. The next day I got an email from my mother that said that Grandpa had gone to heaven yesterday on his 92nd birthday. I know my grandpa really missed Nana. I know he was probably really suffering and I know he knows Jesus. I didn’t want him to suffer. I wanted him to be home and be in the love of Jesus.

But I also felt so angry. I wanted to do unladylike things. But Grandpa would never want me to do that. Nana worked hard to instill good manners in me. So I prayed and talking to God about my feelings and prayed for my mother who probably feels like an orphan now that both her parents are gone. He was the last of my grandparents to go to heaven for me too.

I always wanted to be seen and heard. I wanted people to ask me questions. That is what I liked about my grandparents. I could have conversations with them about real topics. Nana couldn’t go too deep but Grandpa could. Nana and Grandpa were an exceptional couple; classy, hard-working, educated and well-spoken. They weren’t perfect but they tried hard to be good to everyone and make room for everyone. I hear their voices giving advice in my head all the time. I don’t have time to miss them because they are always with me. If I could say one thing to them it would be: Thank you for seeing and hearing me…not everyone knows how to do that.

As I sit here, I am thankful that I had such amazing grandparents. They still influence me. I don’t care for fads and I dress like my nana in very classic styles. I love a good cup of coffee, not Starbucks, like Nana, but Guse’s or Red Leaf. I love to read, like both my grandparents and although I am not a Republican, they probably have a hand in why I am not a Democrat either. I will never forget talking to them about Trump, when he ran the first time. Nana could not vote for him because of his hair, and Grandpa and I both thought it was a joke and that he would never win…I guess the joke was on us. Grandpa rarely said a bad word about anyone. I am a bit more passionate, like Nana, but more and more, I find my tongue being held and words that sound like his coming out. I like that.

Note: Grandpa was the family photographer. There are very few pictures of him because he didn’t like to be in front of the camera. Thankfully, Karen insisted on taking this picture one day…

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Am the One that is Supposed to be Sick

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 28, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving

On November 12th she started really hurting. Karen G Clemenson gets aches and pains just like anyone but not like this. She rarely gets more than a runny nose and a slight headache. She is proud of her strength and health. She likes being strong, it is part of her personal identity, that and her ability to work hard every day. She does it at work and at home. But on this day she has had to lay low. Really low. I can’t tell you how many times she apologized for being sick. I am the one that is supposed to be sick. She doesn’t get sick. It has been over 10 years since her teeth went bad, since I have seen her in this much pain. She didn’t even want to eat and Karen doesn’t turn away meals.

By Tuesday went to the ER. Her pain in her lower right quadrant was so bad she was having trouble walking. Although she drove, she couldn’t walk into the ER. I was caught by a nurse trying to procure a wheel chair. Thankfully he took over until we got to the door. We spent 7 hours there that day. They did every test and culture, except the ultra sound because she was also having stenosis of her cervix. After all that they sent her home with instructions to use Tylenol for pain. They couldn’t find any infection or reason to keep her there and we had to wait for the cultures to come back.

The next day she went to her regular clinic and took the notes from the hospital. They didn’t do any more tests because they could see that the hospital had been thorough. They gave her some muscle relaxers, pain meds and a one dose antibiotic, just in case.

Yesterday, after watching her struggle for many days and watching to see if her test results were loaded into her PeaceHealth portal without success, I called the ER to see what the hold up was. They let me know that her cultures came back normal and that she should come back to try that ultrasound again. I was afraid of the bill associated with the hospital so I called her clinic; Karen is between insurance companies. They told me to call an advice nurse because they could not advise me to come in or not. The advice nurse, after finding out that Karen’s pain had been at a 6 for several hours, said they wanted her to be seen by somebody in the next 4 hours. So I called the clinic back and left a message. Then I began to get ready for the day. They did not call me back so when we were ready to leave we went back to the hospital.

This time, Karen had success with the test and we found out she has fibroid tumors on her right ovary. The doctor seemed more upset to tell us than we were to hear it. I think I was in shock. Honestly I don’t know how Karen feels about it but she did thank me for making her come back to the hospital. I told her pain like this is not to ignore. If we waited and it became worse and she died, that was not how I planned to spend my future.

This last week I have been surprised how my body has let me do a lot of things. I am the chronically ill one. My body doesn’t handle stress well. I have been doing my chores and Karen’s. I have been helping Karen get up, walk and get into bed. I have also been doing financials and filling out charity care paperwork to get help with the hospital bill. I have found that the hospital is a perfect place to read since I have devoured almost 2 books while sitting there. I have had to adjust to the stress of our needy cat too. I didn’t start to fall apart until last night.

I had put a turkey in the crockpot before we left for the hospital so we had something to eat when we got home. When we got done with turkey and green beans and a treat of pumpkin custard with chocolate ganache on top. I had no energy left. I had to have a nap. So I set an alarm and got up at 10:45 pm to take care of the rest of the turkey. That is not a small job; pulling all the meat off the bones, setting aside the innards for Karen and separating the drippings for a stew. I needed some me time so I did a bible study and then read some more. This book I am reading is really great; it is also a good distraction.

I was chewing on the idea that it might be cancer.

I didn’t sleep well. Fibromyalgia is not nice. She causes a terrible kind of pain that nothing really helps take the sting out of and my body temp fluctuates a lot. Emotions trigger her…I am also breaking out with a new psoriasis spot.

Sometime in the early hours my sister, Jamie Holloway, sent me a message about Karen. She is worried. Because I wanted Jamie to be at rest, I googled fibroid tumors and found that they are not cancerous and don’t increase the chance of cancer but they are super painful and will probably require a surgery. But they aren’t cancer. I passed this onto Jamie. Sometimes Jamie sends me the perfect message the right time. Although I am still stressed out. This has been an expensive week and Karen has missed a lot of work and we rely on her working so heavily. I am a little relieved to know that it probably isn’t cancer and as I passed onto Jamie, Karen’s ovary is not twisted and there didn’t appear to be any other anomalies.

God must be flexing his muscles right now because the bible says when I am weak He is strong…I am about on my face.

Karen will find out soon the next step with the gynecologist. We know God has us.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Letting Things Go

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 21, 2023 | About Summer, Yarn

I have been purging and letting things go that I don’t want to take care of anymore. After the loss of the second storage unit Karen and I have had together, I have learned that letting things go is a good thing. Some things we lost were valuable, even priceless maybe, but they are just things. Things can be acquired. What is important is relationships and time.

So as it has become time to renew domains, I am realizing that I no longer need KnottyWares.com. All my crochet items listed on the site, marketing gear and even most of my crochet hooks and bobbles were lost in the last storage unit and really I have never sold anything off the site. I sold a few custom items but usually I donated most of the items I made to other nonprofits. I have new crochet hooks and now I occasionally make things for my grand-nephews.

I have slowly changed my email over to summer at goodtimesalways.com because I would rather advertise my blog so even my doctor’s offices know this new address and the only emails I get at my old KW’s address are advertisements. I hate advertisements. So if you want to email me you can remember this email address or go over to the Contact page and send me an email through the form.

I deleted the Knotty Wares Facebook Page on Friday. I thought I would be more emotional about it. I had put so much time and devotion into this campaign; hours were spent on the logo itself. But it was really easy. This tells me that I am truly done with Knotty Wares, which was really started, hoping to have something fun with a friend that really never wanted to do this with me in the first place and eventually we let the friendship go too. That reminds me…I still need to take down Twitter and Etsy. I really tried but I wasn’t successful. I guess I was just meant to give these gifts out of love.

So this translates throughout life as well. We learn what we don’t need to carry around anymore and what is important to hold onto.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

A Perfect Time for Growth and Reflection

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 17, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving

I have been sick for about 3 weeks now which is a perfect time for growth and reflection. The first 4 days I am sure it was the flu but it changed and now I am thinking it is either a Fibromyalgia flare or maybe a reaction to the increase in Mounjaro. Being in a chronic body is exhausting. During those 4 days when I know it was the flu I had a dream of teachers I had in middle school and high school. Specific teachers that took a greater interest in me. They would spend more time with me, give me special treatment and tasks. In the dream I knew they knew, home was not always safe. They were waiting for me tell them that I needed help. My high school math teacher blatantly asked me once. My high school German teacher once told me it was wrong that I missed school when my siblings were sick. But I chose to keep the secrets.

I chose to protect the secrets so that my siblings would be safe. I didn’t know what would happen if I told the truth that no one said hello to me but yelled at me for whatever they thought I did wrong, or my siblings did wrong. I was called names. Every ache and pain I had was because I was fat. When my custodial parent, who did not have health insurance and no way to get help with their mental health issue, was having a hard time, I was pulled out of bed or away from my homework at any time of the night to help them. My parent had no one else. I am not mad at them. Sometimes I was asked to do ridiculous things, nothing blatantly abusive but not necessarily normal either. I was not hit. I was not molested but I was not emotionally supported and sometimes I didn’t have what I needed. My other parent would scream at me over the phone or for the entire 4 hour drive to their house about how much they hated their ex-spouse and then tell me not to say anything when we got to their house; then I was given a hard time when I was depressed during our visit.

There are more details but this is enough. After I woke up from that dream, it occurred to me for the first time that there had been people that wanted to help me. I had never really thought about that before. It really made me feel good. I chose to stay quiet and that was my choice. I chose to keep what stability I could for my siblings. They were told I was so much older and bigger than they were. They were taught to treat me badly. Not on purpose but by example. But in reality I was taller than they were. I took after one part of our family, and they took after another. But I was also only 3 1/2 years older than my younger sibling and 5 1/2 years older than my youngest sibling. I wasn’t that much older then they were. I was angry and depressed and I had chronic conditions that there probably were words for in the 80’s and I should never have been their caregiver. They got the worst of me, even though I loved them and wanted to protect them. I was angry that I had to protect them. I was angry that they would abuse me and didn’t have the responsibilities I had and never had consequences. I was angry that they got to be children and I didn’t.

Back in March I wrote in an article Memories Are Bigger Than the Thing We are Responding To that I hated my father’s wife. It is amazing what confession can do. When God says that when we are honest we can let the light in so He can heal us, He is describing repentance. He knows that I don’t want to hate anyone. He also knows that I have tried to love this person and there are shreds of love in my heart for this person. But I needed to be honest about a few things so He could shine His light on the darkness. So I could hear myself and give Him the stuff I don’t need to hold onto. I have done this on so many things and forgiveness is very freeing. It isn’t even about the other person. It is all about me being able to clear out the mess and make new decisions. I can say I don’t hate my father’s wife anymore. I don’t trust her. I don’t want her in my life. I get to make those decisions. But I don’t want bad things for her. I don’t hold hatred for her anymore. I can look at a picture of her and not want to throw it and I can have a memory and not feel evil or negative thoughts. She is actually attached to some very good memories and those I can hold onto and appreciate now.

I have had a lot of other dreams this month about memories with my extended family that are no longer in my life. I mentioned it to my wife, Karen G Clemenson. She is used to this. We have been married for over 9 years now and she has seen a lot. She quietly reminded me that our bodies remember things. I suddenly remembered that my custodial parent’s birthday was almost a month ago. This triggered their hard time of the year. Mid-October to February is always hard for them…so it is hard on me. Lot of memories and stressful times make the holidays difficult for me. The difference this time is that I seem to be watching from afar. I am not really part of the memories this time, but analyzing the memories. My therapist says this is a good change.

Because I have tried hard to find balance and positivity in my life where possible it is natural for me to think differently than I used to. I am thankful for this. I will always have OCD but I can change how I let myself think by making sure I have something meaningful to do everyday. I read something every day so I can control what I am thinking about. I listen to music that makes me feel happy. I try hard to keep the thoughts in my head constructive and useful. This has also helped me to stop and think about something else. My parents didn’t completely fail me. My parents were not perfect and they had their own scars and traumas but they tried hard to give me things they didn’t have. My custodial parent moved a lot as a child and lived in big cities. But I lived in one home from the time I was 3 until I was 17 years old in a smaller city that was easier to raise children in and when we did move I got to stay in the same school. Although my other parent left when I was 9, they gave me good memories before then that helped me through the years to follow. My parents worked hard to give me things they didn’t have growing up. My siblings and I did have things that some of our friends didn’t have. Although I was emotionally neglected, I always had books to read and music to listen to because they could buy those things for me and they knew I loved those things. My parents weren’t always absent. I have good memories of great days. They tried and they loved us as best they could.

They are human. Just like me.

I was accused by one of my nieces that I was ruining myself by writing about my past. I appreciate her 20-something viewpoint. Meaning she hasn’t lived enough to know what I know and she is probably repeating what she has been taught, which I also appreciate.

I tried to make the break from my parents, which I never intended to be from the entire extended family, be temporary. But my siblings followed suit. I was so shocked. Their actions showed me how deep that unhealthiness went in our family. If they knew what I went through to make that initial choice, they would have never left me. But no one has ever asked me why. No one. Everyone just assumed I hated them and I was evil. The last time I came around it was because another niece asked me to and although I did something that was wrong, it was blown completely out of proportion and still no one has ever asked me why. I know that my younger siblings got the worst of me, growing up but I am not that person anymore. I have worked hard to grow up, learn healthy communication and how to make healthy boundaries so that others see a mentally healthy Summer and not the broken one I was for so long. When it comes down to it I can’t make people forgive me or offer me a clean slate; I can’t make anyone choose good mental health. I can choose who I allow into my life. I know that it may very well be that I trigger the same survival mode in my family that they trigger in me. So I will love them in my prayers and leave the rest in God’s hands because He loves them more than I ever could.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Can Only Control Me and Where I Choose to Be

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 31, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Queer Community

I have been feeling very vulnerable. It started yesterday. When there was an incident on Facebook between extended family members that went wrong. I thought I had removed everyone attached to people that knew someone that I need to stay separate from. But I was left feeling very unprotected by someone I don’t know, in a situation I wish I had stayed out of. So after praying and thinking about it, obsessively, because that is what people with OCD do…and then talking to a cousin that is discreet and compassionate, I decided to unfriend and block a couple more people in order to protect my peace that I have fought so diligently for. I can only control me and where I choose to be.

But this is not the best way to protect yourself and not the way that normal, mentally healthy people protect themselves from life’s normal stressors. This month has been quieter than August and September which had me at doctor appointments every week, sometimes 2 in one week and left me feeling like a pin cushion and over stimulated by people touching me and giving me all kinds of advice. But I did get a haircut which does make you feel like you did something just for you. I had a doTERRA class online, which enriches your brain. I went to the dentist for the first time in 4 years. I had my first mammogram. I also did one of those at home colon cancer tests and blood screening tests too. I met with my psychiatric RN. I also spent a lot of time going through all of our things and throwing away un-useful things and setting aside things we don’t need for The Red Hat. All while praying for my uncle that had a hip replacement and my aunt that had a much needed breast reduction; they are doing very well.

I really enjoyed my experience with my new stylist. Her name is Taylor Daines and she works at Wild Aces Salon in Kelso, Washington. She is a transplant from Las Vegas. I heard of her in the Longview Rainbow Group on Facebook. Someone posted a picture of their hair and a review and I thought I would give her a shot since the last person that cut my hair didn’t return my messages. Taylor is very sweet and the shop is very eclectic. She prefers to just cut hair, but she can color as well. If you want to make an appointment find Taylor Daines online. Did I mention she also keeps her own bees?

I have no really good reason for missing my teeth cleanings for 4 years. I just don’t like going to the dentist. I made a huge mistake and I am going to pay for it. I have insurance coverage but it only covers cleanings and X-rays. The last dentist I saw told me my impacted wisdom teeth were not a problem but that wasn’t true then and it isn’t true, especially now. After Karen G Clemenson gets her insurance figured out and it is my secondary insurance I will be able to get my 2 impacted wisdom teeth removed, plus one molar that was ruined by one of the wisdom teeth and then have a filling in another tooth that has a cavity from pressure from the other wisdom tooth and then one more filling I earned on my own. All in all, I need 3 teeth removed and 2 filings. At first I had a vanity moment, but then I thought about it. My wisdom teeth are impacted and I have never used them. The one molar is on my left side where I have trigeminal neuralgia and I don’t chew on that side of my mouth as it is, so I guess it works out ok for me. The dentist said that my mouth is too small for implants so that isn’t even an option (you have to have enough room for the implant and the drill at the same time and I don’t). Overall in 47 years to have only 3 cavities, and 1 is from a tooth I can’t clean. I think that is a pretty good history. The hygienist did say that I do a really good job cleaning my teeth. She was really surprised with how little buildup there was after 4 years of not having my teeth cleaned…Yes I have my next cleaning already scheduled.

I have fought against a mammogram for several years. I hate being touched my strangers. I have issues with being naked in front of people. Mammograms do not sound fun or pain free. My breasts have not changed ever…I ran out of excuses and finally sucked it up last week. The Kearney Breast Center at PeaceHealth St. John Medical Center is probably the most pleasant place you can go for a mammogram. I have been to most of the departments there and this one is about comfort. The walls are painted in a pleasant magenta and are covered in beautiful art prints. The furniture is comfortable. The dressing rooms are roomy and pleasant. The lighting is calming. The music is soothing. The staff is soft spoken, professional, patient and gentle. My only complaint is that when you have chronic pain in your rib cage, leaning into the hard plastic machines is very painful. Also my sister, Jamie Holloway, who was given much larger breasts than I was, said it was not painful. My answer to her is that when you have small breasts, they have to stretch them…I will let your imagination answer what I think about that. The upside…I don’t have breast cancer. Thank You Jesus!

My primary has been trying to get me to do the colon cancer screening for 2 years. She finally said I had two choices: colonoscopy or the take home test. So I gave in. Both sound disgusting to me but the latter sounds less painful. The take home test was mailed to me and included a blood test but I wasn’t sure what was for. I made it through the process. In a week I got a letter back that I don’t have color cancer and my A1c is 7.11%. I am thankful that I don’t have colon cancer. I am also thankful that my A1c is down. The last time my primary checked it, it was 7.25% so the changes I am working on, are making a difference. Thank You Jesus!

I met with my Psychiatric RN yesterday. We were supposed to meet a couple of weeks ago but he got sick and we had to reschedule. A few weeks ago I was going to ask him to increase my meds. I was going through a terrible time dealing with a huge loss and it was wreaking havoc on my ability to manage my life. But I have accepted the loss of those things and made it through. When I told him that he suggested that we can try some anti-anxiety meds that I can have with me for trouble times that happen. I would only take these pills during extreme times. I want to think about this. I already take a lot of meds. Also Karen found a file that has medical information in it from the beginning. It may have the list of meds that we tried in the beginning that made me suicidal. I don’t remember the names of the meds so this list is important. I would like to have time to go through this file and be able to share this information with my Psychiatric RN so that we don’t end up taking a step backwards. We will be meeting that last week of December. We have paid the $7500 for the year that my insurance requires so my meds are less expensive now so we can get a lower price to start out too.

Cleaning out unnecessary things is a good way to make room for change. It is also a good way to find things you have lost. We have found so many important things in this room and even in the car…Karen has been going through the car and found so many useful things out there too! But we have also found things we don’t need to keep anymore. It is good to get rid of the things that don’t fit anymore or you aren’t using anymore or don’t mean anything to you like they once did. It helps to clear the air. It also makes room for creativity which is always my goal.

Later this week I will be going to Vancouver to have an MRI on my abdomen to see if the endometrial cancer in my uterus has grown. So far it has not, that we know of. My doctor is hoping to have me lose as much weight as possible before my hysterectomy so if the cancer has not spread we will probably wait until the New Year for my surgery. I do feel as though I have lost weight. My clothes are fitting differently and I feel like my shape is changing. I haven’t had a chance to weigh in for a month or so. I am sure they will weigh me before the MRI so maybe I will know more then. I have an appointment with my primary in mid November but she may be able to get me in sooner, if there is a cancellation. I think the Mounjaro is helping and we will probably increase the dose when I see my primary.

I can’t control what other people are going to do, but I can control me and I control my surroundings. This is what mentally healthy people do. Not everyone has to disconnect from their extended families but I did. I knew when I got cancer, I had to choose me. It was a very hard choice. I tried a trial run but when I tried to re-engage it didn’t work. I can’t make anyone forgive me and give me a clean slate. I can’t make anyone choose good mental health. I can’t make anyone love me the way I want to be loved. But I can love myself and I can celebrate healthy relationships as they come. I can also let unhealthy ones go as necessary.

So if this encourages you to get your health screenings, remove drama that is hurting you and make healthy boundaries and celebrate the successes in your life than I have been a success! Be blessed.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Got Caught Pleasuring Myself [SPAM]

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 2, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Education, Life, Marketing, Opinions

Sometimes you have to laugh at yourself! This weekend I got an email from a spammer. They claimed that they infected my computer with a private trojan, remote administration tool that allows them to access my accounts, my camera and microphone. They also told me I enjoy checking out porn sites having kinky fun and they recorded me through my own camera: I got caught pleasuring myself. Actually, by Monday, I had got 4 emails.

I am really good at avoiding spam because I am very mindful about my computer use, maybe because I have OCD and I have to do things a certain way. Maybe I don’t freak out because when I worked for 3 years doing customer service and website design the one thing I learned the most, was that staying calm was paramount to solving a problem; getting upset only makes it harder to think.

My bank knows when I am not shopping because I only shop and pay certain ways and they call me if anything is different from my usual use. I have a sticky note over my camera unless I am Facetiming or Zooming with my sister, Jamie Holloway, or therapist or doctors. I only use my computer when I am home alone because I value family time so if someone has my microphone hacked they will hear me talking to my cat or whatever music I am playing…And I am a queen who loves her wife and is bored to tears with porn. When you have chronic pain a computer chair and laptop is far from sexy. So if my velvety soft, gingerbread queen is not with me, I am not interested…

But maybe they did catch me the other day…talk about pleasuring myself, I bought Karen G Clemenson two new pairs of jeans for work so I can go a couple more days between having to do laundry!

By the way, if you have emails like that just delete them and empty your trash bin so they are not sitting on your computer. You might want to change your email password as an extra precaution. Don’t ever click on any links in the email!

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

You Can’t Fix Me

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 27, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving, Wellness

I have been depressed for at least a month. This is a big depression. I have lived with bouts of depression for as long as I can remember. Anxiety too. You can’t fix me. I can’t fix me. I think this is the spur in my saddle because God has chosen to not heal me. But He has not left me alone or unprotected, even though my brain lies to me and tries to get me to believe that I am alone, and that I will never see my dreams fulfilled, and that sometimes I am better off dead.

As a chronically ill person I have a lot of diagnosis’ and I have a lot of things I do every day to help me have a life as healthy as possible. I often pray throughout the night, since my body temperature and pain levels fluctuate making it hard to sleep, not to mention the nightmares or stressful dreams. But I also pray before I get out of bed. I also have a workout that focuses on my core and hips before I get out of bed or walking is very hard. I used to have a personal hygiene self care list because when you are depressed, it can be hard to floss your teeth, but I have finally got the habit of my personal care leading up to dressing set. I take a lot of meds; 15 prescriptions to be exact. I have three batches of meds I take daily: morning, mid-day and evening; I also have an injectable I take on Saturday evening. I have timers set to remind me. The second set of meds revolve around meals. Most days I take a walk and also have an afternoon workout. All my workouts are about 10-15 minutes long because when you have chronic pain you can’t go too long or you might not function well the next day. I have a bible study time. I have reading times. I have daily chores to keep my home clean. I must clean something every day because I can’t do big cleaning days. I have so many food sensitivities that I cook most of my food from scratch. I have to order some of my food online because I can’t find some items in Longview. It is a lot of work to be me.

My Medical Conditions Are:

Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Panic Disorder
Major Depressive Disorder
Fibromyalgia
Psoriatic Arthritis
Osteoarthritis
Lymphedema
Hiatal Hernia
Gastrointestinal Reflux Disease
Diabetes
Chronic Migraine
Endometrial Cancer
Morbid Obesity

I see a Psychiatric RN to help me manage my mood stabilizers and a Therapist to help me with my thoughts and mental wellness plan. I see a Neurologist to help me with my migraines. I see a Rheumatologist to help me with my arthritis and fibromyalgia issues, however nobody usually has many answers for fibro. I control my GERD through diet since the meds for GERD cause cancer. I see Gynecological Oncologist for my endometrial cancer. I also see my Primary for everything else. Since August I have seen them all and even had several consults with other specialists for several other things. This is the first week I have not had one or two appointments and had to offer my arms up for blood tests. I am sure this is part of my depression. I am exhausted.

I have also had several big losses since May.

I am also facing some big things. The cancer meds cause weight gain. The hysterectomy I am facing is very dangerous at my size. I am having a very hard time getting weight off. The idea of having my girl parts removing is hard to face on its own, but the fact I could die or not be able to handle the laparoscopic surgery and will awake to being cut open from stem to stern really scares me not only for vanity reasons but the pain and agony of the healing process and the chance of complications and infection really causes me to lose my breath sometimes.

Yesterday was a terrible day. I struggled to do anything. I struggled but I did do my morning workout and prayer and get dressed. i did take my meds. I did take a walk. I did put laundry away and made dinner. I posted a request for prayer and so many replied that they would pray and that helped so much!

One woman replied with a laundry list and it really pissed me off. I know she doesn’t know me. I don’t think she knows what real depression is. If she did she would know that when you are low enough to post on a social networking site for help, the last thing you need is a to do list. You just need to know that someone heard your plea.

I was born a literal person. I am very clear when I write. I was specific. I asked for prayers. That is what I wanted. I have my daily lists. I know what to do. Sometimes that list is not enough. That is what I was trying to convey. You might wonder how I can write this if I am depressed, because I am still depressed. For me, writing sometimes helps me find my voice and come out of it. But many of us that live with depression have had to learn to live with it. We function to some extent in spite of our depression. We know that it will probably get better because this isn’t our first time. What we need is people to listen when we are brave enough to say: Hey see me! I feel like I am drowning over here.

You can’t fix me. But you can see me and hear me or you can just leave me alone.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Where We Are Now

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 19, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions

I have always noticed patterns to help me know where we are now. I look for them often, I think because I don’t always trust what people tell me or I might not trust what I am experiencing. When I was about 14 years old, I recognized that there was a pattern in my family that all the first born daughters were divorced or had marriage difficulties at least back to my great-great grandmother. Because I was the first born daughter, I didn’t think I would marry. My parent’s divorce was brutal and the relationship between my parents, including my step-mother, was very unfortunate. Being the go-between was very painful and stressful. Every important day and holiday was ruined by their behaviors, even after we were adults. I wish they could have just followed the parenting plan; I don’t even think they knew what the parenting plan said.

I did get married, but I was much older. I had gone through a lot of therapy and I married my best friend of 10 years. She had shown me a type of love I had never experienced before. Yes, marriage is hard sometimes and Karen and I have gone through a lot together. I think many couples would not have been able to go through what we have gone through and been able to continue, but we knew we were both broken in some ways before we married, and we knew I was chronically ill too, so it wasn’t a surprise that had to be adjusted to later in life. Our histories are very similar and we work very hard to forgive each other’s brokenness. We are lucky because we truly know God is the head of our household. I don’t make promises because too many have been made to me only to be broken so I wasn’t willing to make any of the traditional wedding vows. My main statement to my wife was that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life and when I didn’t love her or want to anymore, I would talk to God about it first. I have broken that one time and had to repent. But God is gracious and He has helped me come back to love. I am sure glad we were such good friends before we were married because sometimes we have to coast there for a bit but God always brings us back to love. It helps that we are both willing to be coached.

Another pattern I saw in my family is that there is always a golden child in every generation, as well as a scapegoat. There is also a black sheep, but not in every generation. The golden child is not usually the oldest child, but they could be. They are the strongest one. The scapegoat is the most sensitive one. The black sheep can’t fit in at all. They just don’t like to live like the rest of the family. The rules are too much for them for any number of reasons. The rest of the family can always shine and look good at everything they do but the black sheep just doesn’t know how to measure up. To be able to remain in the family there is a pecking order and emotional abuse, enough to keep everyone in line. The scapegoat will never really measure up but they will have enough success as long as they remember to follow the rules and never talk about their abuse. The golden child will lie to protect everyone else and make the scapegoat feel like a fool if they try to express their feelings about their abuse. The golden child will also use their position to hurt the scapegoat when necessary to remind them of their position. The black sheep will rarely come around. They know they aren’t welcome.

When I was a young adult I had a great-aunt. I had always known of her and yet I didn’t remember her because she didn’t come around. There wasn’t a lot said about her. But the feelings in the room when she was being referred to her were cold. I know she had some unhealthy habits and she had had a hard life. I know she had made some bad mistakes. I knew she had had to start over a lot. When she finally came for a visit and I got to meet her I thought she was great. She wasn’t polished like the rest of the family. She smoked a lot. But she was spunky and full of life. She was an authentic people person and I thought she was very brave. She didn’t need to have success to keep trying. I don’t know what she did to become the black sheep. I truly don’t know the whole story but, I believe we rarely know anyone’s whole story. I did know that I became afraid that I was going to be the next black sheep after I met her.

I haven’t written in a few weeks. I don’t write anymore when I am very upset. I used to write when I was hurting, but over the years I have made the rule to never write when I am angry. My words should never be out of vengeance anymore. I have to admit that I have written in anger and spite before, but I don’t do that now. My words are meant to help people, including me, understand what I have learned while I try to understand my life. I was contacted by a niece who told me that I lost my right to refer to her as my niece when I left the family and that she would seek legal action against me if I wrote about her again. There were other things she said that were very hurtful but I wasn’t angry with her. I have to admit, I don’t know how to refer to her, but I wont be using her name anymore.

When I was talking to my sister, Jamie Holloway, about it she asked me why I wasn’t angry with her and I said, her words were verbatim copies of those a sibling has used toward me several times. A sibling she spends a lot of time with. My niece is only saying what she had been taught to say. My niece doesn’t know anything other than what she has been taught because I have never been specific about my abuse and I never will be. As I told my niece, if I were to write down the specific abuses that plague me when my sibling triggers me, it would be in a notebook that no one would see, instead my wife, Karen G Clemenson, is the only one I have told about some of the really bad stuff. I am vague on purpose because I don’t think my parents intended to do what they did and allowed to happen to me.

I left after years of trying to convey to my parents that I needed change from them and my siblings, one in particular. This sibling was given free reign to abuse me. I was literally told I could never defend myself against my younger siblings because I was bigger than them, growing up. Yet, when I complained of abuse, there were no consequences. Of course, this sibling, the golden child, would think it was acceptable to abuse me. When I was tired of it and asked for protection. It was not there for me so I left. At first it was a break, but as this sibling would find people to provoke me and found ways to infiltrate every part of the family, I was no longer needed. I had always felt unwanted, since my parent’s divorce, so it was better that I just stayed away. It was a boundary I had to make. My parents could not respect my need for protection and anonymity so I had to make my own life without them.

Reading my niece’s message, that she felt that she could sue me for my writing did feel like a slap in the face but I didn’t feel like it was coming from her. I know it can’t. She is by herself, with no spouse or children to protect. She can’t sue me. I have never said anything bad about her. Why would I? I still see her as one of my greatest blessings.

One of my favorite stories about this person, when they were a child, happened when they were about 6 years old. We were living together at the time. I always wore skirts over pants. I still do. At first it was that I liked the more European look, especially with my Birkenstocks, but I had also grown to appreciate that pants are more comfortable and easy to work with than tights or pantyhose, but also if you get your skirt tucked up in your waistband, which happens, or the waistband gives out on you, you are not naked (both situations have happened to me). Anyway on this particular morning I was heading out to my car with my arms full and I heard a ruckus at the front door and a high pitched, “Auntie Summer stop!” That red-haired girl had so much energy and passion and her movements always reminded me of her great-grandmother, my Nana. She was all elbows. She ran straight at me and somehow managed to turn me around so she could fix the back of my skirt. I am sure I was more thankful for the opportunity for another hug than my skirt being fixed but I was also thankful for her “protecting me.” Of course, I can’t be angry with my niece. she had always been a protector and now she is trying to protect someone else. I understand.

If I could have one conversation with my niece, I would tell her that I am very proud of her. She has let me watch a small part of her life on Facebook. I know she has worked hard and followed her heart to travel and see the world. She has made decisions for herself. She is young and still learning. I am very proud of her. I know that being able to watch anything is over now but I am glad I had a small window for a time.

When I told my therapist about this situation, he agreed that my family cannot sue me. I have the right to write about my life. I have been vague and left out names on purpose. If anyone is offended by my writing, they shouldn’t read it. By seeking legal recourse they will only draw attention to themselves, thus telling on themselves, which I haven’t done.

I have several large bumps on my head, that are very painful, that I need to have removed. While going through my diagnosis list online today for e-check in for my consultation, I saw a diagnosis that I have ignored a few times. Not all of my doctors have it on my chart. It is kind of new. I already know about PTSD, Panic Disorder, OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder but now someone has added Major Depressive Disorder to my mental illnesses. I have ignored it because I didn’t want to think about another diagnosis, but when I read about it I know it is real and it fits. There are times I have trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things. I can spend countless minutes staring at the diffuser as the colors change and the mist floats through in the air. Loss of interest of anything I enjoy doing, even eating and self care wains for me at times. Memories of abuse and stressful times can keep me awake most of the night. Keeping myself isolated is normal too. This can happen because life has thrown a stressor at me. It can also happen because my sibling has found someone to try to reach me. They have done this twice in the last few months. Life can be stressful, so normal stress might come with a day or two of being “blue” but when I feel attacked it is more than a day or two and it is more than just being “blue.”

The words, “you are in your late 40’s and are still complaining about things that happened when you were a kid,” are not uncommon to me. I have thought them to myself throughout my life, even before I was in my late 40’s. I didn’t understand that these memories might not go away and in fact would torment me sometimes. For someone that doesn’t have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or is willing to deal with theirs, it might be easy to not have compassion, especially when secret keeping was my superpower. But when I got sick in 2014 and was hospitalized for 8 days, something in me broke. Something that had allowed me to play all the games and stay the scapegoat. I knew at some point I would not be able to come back to the old Summer, but would have to be the authentic Summer, and here I am. I am not trying to hurt anyone but I have to be honest with myself.

My therapist agrees, I can’t do anything to protect myself. I can’t prove that my sibling is hurting me. But I wont be silenced. I am building my own life. I told my niece that most of what I write about has nothing to do with my extended family anymore because they are no longer part of my life. I write about my life because there are people that read about it and are inspired. This article is for you. Don’t let anyone silence you. You may have had to keep secrets, when you were younger, to get through the hard times, but you don’t have to be quiet anymore. Its ok to get to know your truth and be proud of where we are now.

Be blessed.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Some Things Are Pretty Great!

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 4, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving

Some things are pretty great! Being an auntie was the best part of my young life. The memories I have with Jordan, Allie, Jessa, Casey, Kayla and Braden are some of my all time best! I was never more happy than when I was with them. I have always loved children. But never like I had learned to love these children. They were the best of their parents and with them I suddenly understood more about myself because things I thought were weird in me, were in them, and they were perfect.

Braden once told me that he was not perfect, after I had told him he was the perfect Braden. I laughed and told him that is what I meant when I told him, he was the perfect Braden. I knew he wasn’t perfect, but he was the perfect Braden and I loved him for who he was, imperfections and all. I had factored those in.

I wasn’t ready to be an aunt when Jordan was born. I was only 17-years-old, but around the time Jessa and Casey were born I was about 25 and I was ready to drop everything for an afternoon for whatever they wanted. I was ready for clearance shopping all year round so that by the time birthdays and Christmas came, I had piles of great presents for everyone. I was ready to tell my mother that I loved Jordan and Jessa just as much as Casey and she would have to accept that. They weren’t steps to me.

I got to be myself with these children. Sometimes I even slipped in front of everyone else. They were confused for a moment because I was joyful and laughing. I spoke differently to the kids than I had ever been spoken to. I got where I didn’t yell unless they were so loud I couldn’t be heard and I used phrases like, “Did you feel loved when he did that to you?” I talked about Jesus, my best friend and was there when most of them asked Jesus into their hearts. I was glad to buy them all their first bibles, engraved with their names on them. One time, when they had all earned swats I talked about grace and how none of us deserve it, and since I didn’t make sure everyone got a nap and snacks when they needed it, I was wrong too so they were forgiven because that is what grace is. I wanted to be different.

When the other child answered that they didn’t feel loved, it gave the first child the option to make amends, and they always did. Casey, Kayla and Braden, and sometimes Allie were together so often that they were very close. They really did love each other and loved to play together but they sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but they didn’t want to make the other one to feel unloved.

I knew to ask that question because I often felt unloved growing up. I don’t think it was on purpose, but it still happened. If Jesus hadn’t introduced Himself to me under that apple trees in my backyard when I was 5-years-old my life would have looked very different. He gave me a foundation for all the times when I would be left alone or not validated, neglected or abused verbally. When my siblings would be allowed to abuse and mistreat me. When I had no one, I had God, even when I forgot, He always reminded me. For that I am so grateful.

My 30 year high school reunion is about to happen. I don’t feel the need to go. I went to the 10 year reunion, back when I was still in relationship with a few people I went to school with but in reality, I hardly remember anyone I went to school with and I am no longer friends with anyone but my sister, Jamie Holloway, from high school. School was my break from home. I don’t remember bullies. There probably were some but I was used to being called names at home. I was always a fat kid. When I graduated, I weighed 350 lbs. But I know now that my brain disassociates pain very easily so there are a lot of things I don’t remember.

I do remember standing up for Jamie. Boys can be mean to girls with big breasts. Which is stupid since no girl that I ever knew wanted to have big breasts. Kids can also be mean to girls in double casts trying to get into one of the only two doors into the school with a ramp. I remember telling off some football players, one day, and then making sure I got to school as soon as I could, every day, to make sure I could help her get through those doors and up that ramp. Jamie didn’t deserve some of the crap she got in high school. There were several times I defended her. It is no wonder that she has no desire to attempt to go to our reunion. I joked with my wife, Karen G Clemenson, that since Jamie was my prom date, I can’t go without her, but really, I am afraid that seeing certain people might wake up things I don’t want to remember.

This weekend I went to Allie’s 2nd baby shower. It was a beautiful event and the room was filled with family and love. It was a hot day and the building was not air-conditioned but it wasn’t too bad if you weren’t too active. As people began to leave, I was able to have a moment with my niece. She was feeling self-conscious because her nose was bright red and sweating (just like her dad, who has passed away) so I checked her ears. Then I reminded her that her dad’s ears turned bright red when he was tired and only one of her’s turned red and I could see she had a red ear, both her and her brother, Casey, were that way. She smiled. Her faced darkened and she reminded me that her sister, Kayla, didn’t come and her aunt, her father’s sister, lives just down the street and she didn’t come either. I hugged her and I know the words that came out of my mouth were not just mine, but the Holy Spirit: It’s hard to do, but we have to put the past behind us, and today is pretty great!

I got another smile and a nod.

God has been working with me to put the past behind me. Dwelling on the pain has not helped me to move forward. Waiting for changed behavior or validation is probably a waste of time, especially when those who have hurt me don’t think they are wrong.

The division in my extended family had to come. I have forgiven them. But there is no trust. There is no foundation to build it on. As someone who has stood up for others I loved, that were bullied, it took me many years to realize that I was bullied. It took my anger at how my extended family dumped Allie to understand that they did all the same things to me and much more and I needed to stop going back to the circus. I was not made to be a performer. My strength lies in my authenticity.

Their personal traumas are real but they are not my responsibility. They have the same opportunity to seek therapy and whatever it takes to heal for their peace of mind. That is what it would take for me to come back because I don’t give my time to people that don’t talk about issues and try to make them better, who aren’t considerate of someone who is hurting and who can only think of themselves and what will make them feel happy, especially if that is something that hurts someone else. I am not a scapegoat or a whipping boy anymore. I will not be rejected or ignored anymore. I am important and worthy because God said so.

Because I am no longer alienated but I am reconciled and blameless, and I am learning to be patient…today is pretty great!

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Thank You God!

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 24, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving

Sometimes I have to stop and say: Thank You God

There are times that there is just no other answer I can come up with that explains some of the blessings that come in my life. I have had a lot of loss and I do have a lot of things I have to contend with every day but I know that I am never alone. Even when I forget that, I am reminded by Him that I am not. He is always faithful, even when I am tired and forget to be.

I was surprised to find this in my reading on Tuesday. I have been chewing on this because it makes so much sense, yet I was so surprised that it was part of the relationship with God. We are expecting life to get better and easier as we walk with Christ, and in many ways it is so much easier but in many ways it is also so much harder as well. I find myself thankful that He protects me from what I don’t need to know. I am grateful for His wisdom and that I can trust that He knows what I can handle.

God hasn’t chosen to let us have our apartment yet, and I don’t understand that, but I do know that He knows what He is doing in, and, through us. He has allowed some barriers, yet, He is leading us to be fruitful and generous in the other ways and I have to trust Him.

One thing I want to praise Him for is that I budget my part of the expenses almost to the dollar and for the past several months there seems to be anywhere from $15 to $25 left over in my checking account. I have been tucking away those few dollars into savings accounts. This month there was an overage of $60, exactly what I need to get Xavier’s shots next month. I have no answer but God. I check my list of expenses and see they all were paid and I get the same amount of money each month. But I know that God loves Xavier too and He knows that Xavier’s care is important to me.

Those little transfers may eventually add up to the first and last month’s rent and a truck rental to move without the help we have been trying to apply for. Sorrow is not so hard when you are resting in the arms of your Savior.

After I called the vet to make Xavier’s appointment for his shots in September and his exam in January, I texted my wife, Karen G Clemenson, to let her know I had the money for his appointments in a savings account so she didn’t have to worry about that bill when she the event pop up on her phone. She was thankful. I told her about my checking account overages and all she could say is: God is good all the time!

It is good to stop and say: Thank You God!

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

There Were A Lot of Decisions That Got Me Here

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 14, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions

I know I don’t have to explain myself to anyone but I often feel the need to describe myself to me. I am not trying to compete with anyone, I really want us all to win at being the best individual we can be and I know that includes our own paths and purposes. What works for me might not work for you but maybe my efforts might inspire you, and since I believe I was put here to be an encourager, I often share my experiences here. There were a lot of decisions that got me here.

The situation that I was talking about in I Don’t Know Everything has bothered me a lot more than I expected. I have spent many more hours being tormented in my mind by the conversation and why it happened and why it concerned me so much. I do have OCD and so obsessive thoughts are part of my world but it took me a few days to understand that this person was part of pattern for me that I am trying to learn and stop.

I have a pattern that I tend to carry relationships. I am the one to initiate contact, make the first call, encourage get togethers, sometimes I even buy things they need, pay for meals and our outings. I am drawn to people that need me. Part of that is that I know what it feels like to need but I also am used to taking care of people that can take care of themselves because that is a dynamic I was raised with. I am aware of this and so in the last year or so, I have stopped contacting people who never contact me first. It isn’t malicious. I still love them and pray for them, but I want a more equality in my relationship. If all they can do is send me a message, that is what I want them to do for me.

When you are chronically ill there is a lot to overcome to create your wellness plan, especially if you have had a lot of unhealthiness in the past. Because I have both mental illness and learned bad habits to overcome, as well as physical illness, I have had to make a lot decisions and fight a lot of demons. I understand that everyone has them. Mine are my own and might look very different from yours. I have learned to create several rules for my day, many you might not see as important to your life and this is what you need to decide.

The fact that my day includes exercise, lots of water, 3 sets of medications, lots of reading, regulated chores because, I only have so many spoons, and little habits that keep me grounded, as my wellness plan, might not be what you need. I fight with food because that is a learned habit that sometimes still kicks my butt in either direction. I probably have specialists that you might not need, or maybe you do and you don’t know it. I have a Primary doctor, a Neurologist, Rheumatologist, Gynecological oncologist, Psychiatric RN, Therapist and I will be seeing a Dietician at the end of August and a Dermatologist in September. I probably need to see an Ear, Nose and Throat Specialist too but I can only afford to pay so many co-pays and right now I am tapped out.

Relationships are super important to me. I don’t take them lightly and I am not good at casual relationships. I have had to really coach myself to not be too much for new relationships because as I try to make relationships with healthier people, who are busy and have their own lives and don’t need my help, I have to remind myself, they are engrossed in their own responsibilities. Needy people tend to be able to respond to me faster because they have more free time. Also most people are not my sister, Jamie Holloway, who is just more thoughtful than most people. She always answers letters, cards, messages. She always shares what she has. I don’t see the things I do for her as carrying her, I see us sharing our lives with each other. I am not looking for another sister. But other friends are always nice.

I had already seen the end of the relationship coming mentioned in I Don’t Know Everything. They were not thoughtful. They didn’t realize how some of the things I shared with them, was me really trying to trust them and they didn’t appreciate it. They never initiated contact and they didn’t always acknowledge when I reached out to them. They made promises and didn’t keep them so I was slowly letting go. When I disagreed with their knowledge, it wasn’t me picking a fight or hating on them, and it wasn’t me trying to show off my big old brain, it was me sharing information I had learned about the topic. When I tried to tell them that, they got really abusive in a way that was not appropriate to the situation. After days of thinking about it I finally realized that this response was so much like abuse I used to live with and that was the real reason I was so upset. It was just too close to home. I wasn’t even that angry with them. I was just reminded of something that I haven’t had to deal with in a long time.

Wellness is essentially a lot of decisions. You can’t keep making the same decisions and expect to change. You have to overcome the old knowledge and as you are able, to make new choices about how you will live your life and what you will allow into your life. It isn’t just about exercise and diet. Abuse towards yourself and others effects our morale and mental health and causes a plethora of negative responses in our bodies. Especially if you have a chronic body, you have to reduce the stress in your life and that includes relationships that take too much from you. Stress can cause an emotional episode, or a flare of physical illness or both for me. I don’t want to have more pain, mentally or physically, I don’t like psoriasis breakouts in new spots, I hate being dizzy or twitching more than normal, I hate it when it my face flares up and drinking water is excruciating…those are just a few of the things that might happen if I have too much stress, and they are the more pleasant ones…There were a lot of decisions that got me here and I imagine there will be many more.

Learning to love myself has been the one of the greatest challenges I have ever begun. But I also think that loving myself properly helps me to love more people better and I think that has been a huge blessing too. I still pray for all the people behind me and I am happy to place them in God’s hands because I know He loves them and wants them to be well too.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Don’t Know Everything

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 12, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I have read a lot of books and articles but I don’t know everything. I have read the bible a lot but there is still much to learn about God. I have been to therapy for many years of my life and I have learned a lot of tools but I am not a therapist and I don’t know everything about therapy. But I do know a lot about me, not everything, but more than most people. This was the part of me that I was trying to share with someone recently.

I have always loved to read. It has been an escape and a way to feel better as well as a way to feed this thing inside myself that wants to learn things. Even as a child I was teased by my friends and called a snob because I was always in a book. I often had to be reminded to put the book down to enjoy my human friends. The book was safe. I didn’t have to try to be with the book. People are sometimes harder. Because I have always read, I have a larger vocabulary and I think differently than a lot of people, I also tend to know tidbits of information that some people don’t know. Sometimes I don’t worry about things that other people worry about because I have spent time in books with people wiser than me and I know what is truly important and many of the things we put emphasis on in society are just fleeting moments.

There is a person that I tried to befriend because I know they need a friend that wants nothing from them. I have tried many times to connect with them but it always ends badly. I think they think I am judging them and sometimes I am, but not because I don’t like them. I know they were badly hurt as a child and young adult and they have a lot to deal with. I love that they are in therapy but they are resistant to medication and I have to say I was too when I was younger because the meds I was given in my 20’s were not the right ones and it made everything worse. Meds are scary because it is hard to find the right ones. Karen G Clemenson and I went through quite a trial until we found the right ones for me and I am so thankful she was with me, to go through that with me, so I didn’t have to do it alone; so I had someone who could verify that I was experiencing what I thought I was experiencing. It is so hard when your brain lies to you. But when you find the right medications it is amazing because trauma is brain damage and the right medication can help your brain heal faster. In the last 9 years I have been so thankful to find the right meds, the right therapists, been told the right books to read and I have researched what I was told to research because I wanted to be better, I wanted to not abuse my wife, I wanted to be a peace. I want that for this person, that I wanted so much to be able to call friend.

But as it turns out I believe I remind them of their abuser so in the end they abuse me to protect themselves. I can’t allow myself to be abused so for now I guess this person will have to be put on the shelf. Sometimes we find a book that looks like it will be a great read but we are not ready for the content and it takes years for us to read the whole book, maybe this person is like one of those books…

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

My Final Fracture

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 7, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I had an experience on the day after Nana’s celebration of life that really upset me. I was so upset that Anna was awakened. She was my final fracture. I little over 20 years ago I had had a vision, during the day, that God showed me that I was so hurt, that I had about 5,000 fractures. Each one was part of my brain that had taken on a task that I was not ready to handle throughout my childhood and young adulthood. I was working with a Christian therapist at the time and she was very important to helping me to integrate many of them rather quickly. As far as I know, none of them were actual personalities and very few or none of the fractures were strong enough to take me over, however I was experiencing lost time and this was very stressful to me.

By 2014, I had checked in with God and He had told me I was down to less than 100. This was about the time that this therapist felt that we had grown too close and she didn’t think she could help me as a therapist anymore. I agreed. Also, I was confident that, as I was ready, I could continue integrating fractures, on my own with God. He is very gracious to not insist that we don’t handle issues we aren’t ready to handle until He knows we are ready.

I have written about Anna before. I am not sure, exactly how long she has been the last one and actually I think she might be an integration of several fractures because the first time I met her she was 5 years old, but lately she seems to be many ages, some even pre-verbal, which has made it very hard to communicate. Last week was a hard one. My emotions were all over the place. It was hard to reason with Anna. She wanted to engage with people from my past in ways that I don’t want to. She was making me feel really crazy.

On Saturday night, my wife, Karen G Clemenson, went to work and I finally had had it with Anna. So I told God I was ready to integrate Anna. After talking honestly with God I realized I knew that Anna’s job was to hold all the emotions and pain of my past and I had kept her around because I didn’t want to be responsible for those emotions and pain. Before the integration I felt like my emotions were firecrackers always going on outside of me, startling me. After the integration my emotions come from one place inside of me and I can stop and look at them and decide how to respond to them. There is a new type of quiet in me. I am very tired. I am waiting to see what will happen next. I don’t think I have ever lived without Anna so life is new in some ways.

I told my new therapist about this experience today. He seemed to be very excited for me. He agreed that this must be an amazing experience and it would take time for me to totally get to know the new me that didn’t rely on another part of myself.

One thing that this experience has done is made it very easy for me to be at peace with my decision to leave much of my extended family behind me. Many of them have done things to me and other people that I don’t respect. Not only that, they have done nothing to build a relationship with me. Yes I put boundaries on them, but I did not shut them completely out, they just never took the time to figure out how to reach me. I answer emails. Google me. I have 4 websites and Facebook is not the only social media site that I am on. They may not like this but I get to choose my boundaries. If they don’t like them they can stay in the background. I am walking forward.

There are a few of them that I am just not interested in engaging with at all and I get to make that boundary too. That might be painful to some of them but I didn’t get to choose who was in my life as a child. I have the right to choose as an adult.

It is funny how the more information we have, the richer the conversation can become…this is kind of rabbit trail but I think it kind of proves a point too. Aunt Elaine and Uncle Duane stopped by, unexpectedly yesterday. I haven’t seen them in a while and it was nice to catch up. For some reason an old uncle, via marriage, came up in conversation; I don’t know why. He was my uncle when I was a very little girl, probably younger than 6 or 7 years old, at the most. I didn’t have a lot of words, when I was a child, for what I remembered about him, or life experience. My parents were raised in Seattle, Washington, which is vastly different, demographically, than Longview, where I was raised. Longview is still about 84% white. I looked it up and in 1980, when I was about 5 years old, the population was about 90% white. I don’t know what nationality Uncle Hector was but he was not white. I was telling Aunt Elaine that maybe I thought he was different because of his brown skin. I stopped talking about his skin because she paused loudly. Normally when I am around people that seem judgmental I like to poke as much as I can at this soft spot because I can’t see a reason to judge someone for their skin color or who their parents are because we don’t get to choose, but I know there is not a judgmental bone in my aunt’s body so I let it go. But I did add that his eyes scared me. She told me that he was a Vietnam Veteran and he had PTSD and he was always drunk or high and that was probably what I was seeing.

Today, after I had time to think about it, I was telling Karen about my full thoughts about Uncle Hector…yes the conversations never stop for me when they actually stop. I think about them for a long time until all the details make sense to me. Uncle Hector’s name was super cool to me. I mean what the Heck! He always wore a camouflage jacket and dog tags, a look I borrowed in my teens for awhile, of course I also wore a tuxedo shirt with my look. I didn’t like that every time he saw me, he made sure to announce how big I was. Yes. We all knew I was a fat child. He was a very loud guy. That was hard for me but so were most of the Clemenson family. Not only was his hair thick and black and very big but his skin was dark brown and it was covered in acne scars that in my little girl mind, with the sharp imagination, I think it reminded me of some of the characters in the dinosaur show I liked to watch. I also remember that my mom was scared of him and told me to never be with him alone and to make sure I stayed with my dad, if I was going to be around him. She didn’t really have to push that with me because his eyes scared me and now I know his crazy eyes were because he might be having a PTSD moment or stoned or just drunk.

See I don’t like surface talk, small talk, reality shows, gossip or anything easy. I ask deep questions. I like to debate. I read books, articles about just about anything, the bible. I like to feed my brain because it makes me feel good; like I am doing something good for myself. I think reality shows are the bane of our society and I don’t like to talk about people that aren’t in the room unless we are going to pray for them.

It could be that some of the people I left in the background might be more comfortable back there. I don’t want to perform or play games anymore. But if you meet a very tall, probably Mexican guy named Uncle Hector, let him know that I am praying for him and thank him for his service.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

What Makes a Healthy Marriage

by Summer D Clemenson | Jul 31, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

When I was younger I wondered why my grandparents were married. From the surface, they had little in common and I had little to no understanding about relationships, especially what makes a healthy marriage. When I was really little, grandpa hadn’t married Nana yet and it was just Nana that we went to visit all the time in her little house. Before their marriage, I was told to call Grandpa, Bill. But around the time my youngest sibling was born, Nana and Grandpa had got married and they came to see us and the newest family member. I was about 5 years old.

After Nana and Grandpa were married, because I had a lot of grandfathers, I was told I could call him Grandpa Bill; I was confused and didn’t know how to tell him from the other grandfathers. But by the time I was about 8 or 9 years old, Nana told me it was time to just call Grandpa, Grandpa. She was right, he was the most grandfatherly, grandfather I had. None of the other grandfathers showed up to teach me anything or fix anything. Sometimes I forgot and called him Grandpa Bill, but he was the only one that didn’t get called by his last name and I thought that was special too.

I remember at my first nephew’s, 1st birthday party, Nana had sat on some ketchup. She was notorious for wearing white jeans so it was really noticeable. Grandpa asked me if I would help her. I didn’t know how to file that so I declined. It was so sweet to watch him quietly tell her and then help her clean off her jeans. I see it so clearly like it is still happening. I didn’t know how to be outside of myself then. Now I would be able to offer help to someone, but I think it took Grandpa showing me how to take care of Nana, and some therapy to learn how to show compassion and care for people.

As I have been married, I see how much like Nana and Grandpa I am, but also I see how I chose a partner that is a lot like Grandpa in some ways too. I understand that their opposite ways of being are how they complimented each other. Each person was great individually but they were so much better together. When Grandpa teased Nana it was to stop her from being so serious and anxious. I know this because Karen G Clemenson does it to me too. It’s ok that they liked to read different genres of books, what is important is that they took the time to find out what types of books each other liked to read. Grandpa and Karen both love the Seattle Seahawks and I am sure that Nana chose to watch the games with Grandpa for the same reason I watch them with Karen, but I know Nana and I also learned to appreciate other parts of the game; like the beauty of a well sculpted athlete like DK Mecalf.

I have learned over the years that Love, alone, does not hold a relationship together. Liking someone does not hold a relationship together, by itself either. You must have a combination of Love, Like and the most important element is Compromise. Without these three elements from all parties, a relationship cannot be equal, and cannot stand through the trials of humanity. I am so thankful that I was able to see these qualities in my nana and grandpa. I am also thankful that I see them in my marriage and a few trusted friends.

Happy Belated Birthday, in Heaven, Nana.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Am Thankful When Situations Are Easy

by Summer D Clemenson | Jul 26, 2023 | About Summer, Life

God tells us to do our best to be a good example and not cause harm to others. I try to live this always. I would hate to make someone stumble. I am thankful when situations are easy.

I had a wonderful experience this week. I went to my niece’s house to give a gift to my great-nephew. My niece had made a post on Facebook that she needed a break. Her little one needs to touch her all the time and she just needed a break. So I bought him a doll made of silicone. When silicone is touched and matches the body heat of the person touching it, it feels somewhat like skin. My great-nephew is going to be a big brother soon so I thought he might enjoy having his own baby to care for while mommy is busy. The doll didn’t come with a bottle so we had stopped at the store to get one. That was a good idea, because he did have a little doll and a shopping cart that he pushes the doll around in, but he didn’t have a bottle or cup to feed the baby with. The doll worked out well. His other baby can’t go in the tub with him, but this one can. He enjoyed taking care of both babies and the bottle and little cup that we bought him helped out a lot.

My niece lives with her mother and it was nice to see her too. Families are made in all kinds of ways and this niece came to me through a marriage that didn’t last but I never stopped loving her so I kept her. Her mother has been through a lot and has worked hard to overcome so much. I admire her journey and strength. I mentioned that I am close to graduating out of therapy. I am still overcome by that idea. After she thought about that, my niece’s mother said: “Good job. That means you have learned all the tools you need.”

People may have said something like that to me but this was the first time that I remember someone looking me in the eye and saying it to me. I really needed to have that experience.

I have been really torn about going to Nana’s celebration of life. I want to see my grandfather. But I am not a small talk person. I am not a big family function person. These people do not send me letters or cards. I have tried to create the type of pen pal relationships with some of them that I missed so much with Nana as she began to deteriorate mentally and that didn’t work. I haven’t spoken to my mother and siblings in a long time. I don’t want to answer questions of people I haven’t seen since my great-grandfather’s memorial service. There are just some truths that are painful and I don’t want to dishonor my mother in order to be authentic.

Becoming an auntie has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I want to see my other nephews and niece so badly, but they have the choice to reach out to me and they don’t.

I am hurting today. I have been hurting for about a week. I always hurt but this is deeper. It is making it harder to function. All I want to do is sleep. I know part of it is a little depression. Funny, Karen never says she can see it, but she says things like: “Please make sure you take your meds and eat some oatmeal today.”

I know that Nana is with Jesus and in my heart. I know that memorial services are to help the loved one remember the one we lost, together, but I have my own memorials for Nana as they naturally happen. I think it would be best if I kept doing that and save my family the stress of my honesty. Besides I hurt. My body is fighting cancer. It is going to be 85 degrees on Sunday and the heat makes me ill. Fibromyalgia is already messing with me…and then there is that bill that I was surprised with that will make it impossible to rent a car for the trip…our car is to temperamental.

To be honest with myself. I don’t think I can do this event well. Not everything is about me.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Saying Thank You

by Summer D Clemenson | Jul 11, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers & Thanksgiving

Nana was always a big person to remind me the importance of saying thank you. She always told me that people that didn’t send thank you cards, often stopped getting gifts because people like to be appreciated. I have noticed as I became an auntie that when my nieces and nephews were able to read and write, just like Nana to me, I would send them stamps and stationary and mention this same notion to them. As much as I love them, nieces and nephews that become adults and don’t make sure I have an address to mail something to, which would be on a thank you note, don’t tend to get gifts, because I too, like to be appreciated.

I miss Nana’s letters. I miss Nana but I know she is with Jesus. I also know she is with me. I visit her in my dreams and thoughts much more often than I could see her on earth. It was a pleasure to answer her letters and know that she would so happy to read them. I think people have forgotten how nice it feels to get happy mail. (more…)

Nana Really Tried

by Summer D Clemenson | Jun 27, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I keep thinking about this funny story of shopping with Nana lately that keeps me chuckling. My nana really tried with me. She was not accustomed to dealing with a child as fat as I was. When she was a child and had gained a few extra pounds my great-grandmother (Grammy) took her to the doctor and Nana was put on a diet. During her pregnancies, my grandfather was in the Army and the Army hospitals were very strict about weight gain during pregnancies. That is probably why Nana was so calorie conscious. She was naturally a very active woman. At her prime, she was 5 foot 7 inches tall; just like me. If I had been born with her metabolism I would probably have grown to be somewhere between a size 10-12 just like her, but I was born with a different metabolism. (more…)

Dear Nana

by Summer D Clemenson | Jun 12, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

Grammy came and saw me a few days before Mom sent the email that told me you had had your stroke. I saw her in my reflection in the mirror. I had been thinking about her off and on. She didn’t say anything but I felt her very strongly. I knew it was profound but I didn’t know why until I read that the doctor didn’t think you would recover. I don’t remember her voice; she died when I was so little. But I feel her love and strength. I know she was the head of the family until she died and you had taken her spot. I don’t know what we will do now; I think I will have to become that head of my family. I think I have known that for a long time now.

It was Thursday May 25, 2023 when my mother emailed me. I know it was hard for her. I appreciate her communication. I know you understand why I have stayed away, because you told me that grandparents understand. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t enjoyed our visits in my dreams and the letters I have written you. I wish you were able to answer them. I have missed your letters to so much. As I was talking to God about you, I knew He was with you. Most importantly I didn’t want you to suffer and being unable to communicate or move was not the way you would want to be alive. I asked Him to heal what He was going to heal, knowing that that doesn’t always mean our bodies, and thanked Him for his grace and mercy for our family. (more…)