I Never Considered

by Summer D Clemenson | Mar 16, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions

I never considered that there would come a time that I would end my therapy. I have had at least 2 mental breaks in my lifetime. I was smart enough to be able to fake enough balance that I didn’t end up confined. I know that would not have served me well. I am thankful that the people I kept close to me knew that too. My last one was the biggest and took me a long time to overcome because it happened at the same time that my body too was overwhelmed. Since 2014 I have been fighting for myself. Sometimes harder than others. I am not done. There is more to be done but my therapist told me yesterday that it may be time that I graduate out of therapy.

I am stunned.

I am overwhelmed and then I am not. I take my wellness seriously. I have made many changes. I make changes. I will keep making changes, gradually, because that is what works best for me.

When I began my session yesterday I mentioned that I had decided that I was done fighting with the voices in my head. That the voices of people that weren’t real because they were not in my life and they had to go. It had taken me a long time to realize it was all in my head and I had the power to tell them to go away. I had help. God helped me. When they snuck back in through dreams, I asked God to bless them and keep them away from me. I asked God to love them and give us all a good nights sleep. I trust that if God wants reconciliation between me and the real people, God will orchestrate this. I don’t have to make anything happen and I can trust that because God loves me and these characters more than I ever could, or they could. I believe that God will make the heart and mind changes happen so that we can see each other in all our humanness and forgive each other and have an authentic relationship without gossip and backbiting and other hateful habits that don’t show love.

My therapist told me it was time to update my treatment plan. But I couldn’t think of what that would be. She couldn’t suggest anything. She listened to what was on my mind and suggested that we give me the space of considering this until our next session. So I am talking about this with Karen G Clemenson. Who also seems surprised that I might be ready to graduate out. I don’t think either one of us considered there would be an end to therapy.

I asked my therapist about my medications. That scared me because I know when I don’t take them. They slow me down so I can remember my tools. The same tools that seem to be working so maybe I don’t need therapy anymore, or for at least this point in my life. She said that my psychiatrist would still meet with me and maintain that part of my treatment.

I know I should be happy for me. Part of me is starting to feel that. Part of me is also feeling a bit of satisfaction because I think I knew I was coming to this point. There is a quiet I am getting comfortable with that I have never had. I have learned that I can make boundaries. I can say no. I can say yes. I can say what I want. I can be me and not worry about if that offends because I know who I am. I like myself. I am not perfect at this but I am sure that this is what you practice as you live. Loving is not just for other people, it is for ourselves too.

The thought of not needing a therapist is new. I have had this therapist for a couple of years and I really like her. I like her because she doesn’t waste words or time. She is direct. She is what I needed. I trust her. When she told me that fighting with the voices in my head is a mental illness issue but the other things I worry about are normal things to worry about and not mental illness. I thought: I healed myself…I might be normal…whatever that means.

In the end I will miss my therapists’ affirmations of my choices but that is what I have God, Karen and Jamie Holloway for…it is the success I never considered. That is part of self-love 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.

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.

Book Review: The Failed Promise Reconstruction, Frederick Douglass, and the Impeachment of Andrew Johnson by Robert S. Levine

by Summer D Clemenson | Mar 15, 2023 | Book & Product Reviews, Education, Opinions

I did not pick this book out. My wife did. She was advised by a friend to look at Reconstruction so she brought The Failed Promise Reconstruction, Frederick Douglass, and the Impeachment of Andrew Johnson by Robert S. Levine home from the library. I had just helped her bring about 10 books home…and not any light reads but big, thick and heavy duty reads. This book is very overdue. I watched her squeak in moments where she could try to absorb the vast history in this book and got more and more interested but she works a lot and I eventually saw that she was not going to finish it, so once I had read all the other books, I picked it up. It took me over a month to read it. I am very sensitive. Slavery and White Supremacy hurt my heart but it is part of our history and I am glad I read this book. I even ended up purchasing this book so that Karen can read it at her pace and I might even read it again. Levine did a good job.

Andrew Johnson was our 17th president. He lost his father when he was only 3 years old. He never went to school but he taught himself to read and write. He was apprenticed to a tailor before he was 10 years old. He lived in North and South Carolina as a boy and moved to Greenville, Tennessee when he was 16 years old. When he was 18 years old, he opened his own tailor shop, got married and continued to self-educate himself at the Greenville College. He enjoyed public speaking, history and politics.

Johnson was as Jacksonian Democrat
Johnson was a Town alderman in 1829
He served as Mayor
Johnson served in the Tennessee State legislature in 1841
He served in Congress in 1843
Johnson was a Senator for Tennessee in 1857
He became Vice President in 1865

Frederick Douglass was freed slave, self-educated and an activist known for his powerful speeches against slavery and for equal Civil Rights for all. He believed that the United States Constitution was a pro-slavery document and electing antislavery politicians into offices was good sense. Douglass was not impressed with President Lincoln when he first knew him and through much of 1962. Lincoln and Martin R. Delany advocated for Black emigration to places like Liberia, Central America and Africa at the choice of the Black person. Douglass believed that Black Americans deserved to live in the country they helped to build.

Douglass appreciated Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, however, he wasn’t positive that Lincoln was going to abolish slavery in the Confederate states and he also believed that Reconstruction had not begun to be considered. However, Douglass supported and recruited Black troops for the Union and met with Lincoln to inspire him to pay Black troops equally what White troops were being paid. Douglas heard that education would be amiss for the formerly enslaved Black people. He also knew that race relations would require help. Black people would remain “enslaved” by White people that would not respect their humanity and freedom.

Black people were not considered United States citizens in 1864, although about 200,000 Black Americans fought in the Union Army during the Civil War.. Freeing slaves meant nothing if Black Americans had no rights and protections under the law. President Lincoln wanted to restore states to the Union, while Congress wanted to Reconstruct the formerly seceded states. Lincoln and Johnson, at one time, agreed that restoration was a job to be overseen by the president and not Congress, but as Douglass continued to speak out about reasons for deeper changes, Lincoln was gaining more and more of Douglass’ hope of success. Lincoln had begun seeking the counsel from Douglass in 1864.

In Lincoln’s last address he stated:

That the Southern states had in fact seceded, but they would be re-aligned in proper relationship with the Union — This opinion differed from his Vice President.
All states in the Union would support the 13th Amendment, abolishing slavery.
He wanted states to consider Black suffrage and at least allow Black soldiers who had fought for the Union to be given the right to vote.
He also stated the benefit of public schools equally to Black and White students.

Abraham Lincoln was shot by John Wilkes Booth on April 14th. The President died on April 15, 1865. This is the day that Andrew Johnson became President of the United States.

Johnson did not believe in Southern secession. He believed a person could secede but not a state.
Johnson called for an end of slavery during the Civil War.
Johnson loved being known as “Moses” to Black people
He had made many statements about punishing Southern traitors
Slavery was abolished by the 13th Amendment and Lincoln’s Republicans were ready for Reconstruction but Johnson felt that was a job solely for the President to oversee.

Congress wanted a full Reconstruction which meant that all Confederate leaders would be stripped of their positions. Plantation owners would lose parcels of their land to give to freed people. Political and social equality would be given to freed people.

For 5 years Johnson had written and spoken in conjunction with some of these ideals yet within a month of his presidency he announced in his Amnesty Proclamation that he would offer pardons to nearly anyone who asked for them. He would restore Confederate states and their leaders, as they had always been and he, alone, would over see Reconstruction. To be allowed back into good standing with to the Union all the ex-Confederate states had to do was make a statement of loyalty to the United States, ratify the 13th Amendment (although they were allowed to perceive the Amendment however they saw fit) and they had to make a statement of regret that they had seceded the Union (even though Johnson didn’t believe they had seceded.)

Johnson believed that slavery had caused the Civil War and since slavery was abolished with the 13th Amendment, there was no war. No war, meant no Reconstruction — just a quick restoration of the 11 ex-Confederate states he was overseeing.

The 13th Amendment left Black American’s rights and citizenship up to the perception of each state. This quickly made a bad situation worse for many Black Americans. Senator Charles Sumner, Congressman Thaddeus Stevens and U.S. Secretary of the Interior, Carl Schurz all communicated with Johnson about the freed people that were falling by the hand of White people. All were ignored.

The 14th Amendment was ratified on July 28, 1868. It granted citizenship and equal civil and legal rights to Black Americans and freed slaves that had been born in the United States. The Amendment did not apply to Native Americans. It also left room for states to their own due process of the law which left Black people with little protections.

Douglass had thought Black people should be suddenly be treated equal in every way but as President Johnson was not addressing Reconstruction or pushing equal rights at a Federal level, he began to understand the need for Black organizations to form in order to educate fellow Black people and push for equal rights.

On February 19, 1866 President Johnson vetoed Congress’ extension of the Refugees, Freedmen and Abandoned Lands AKA Freedman’s Bureau. Congress rallied and got the votes to keep the Freedman’s Bureau active a little while longer.

Located in Washington D.C. and throughout ex-Confederate states
Offered services to about 4 million freed people in the South
Distributed food and clothing
Medical Assistance
Legal protection and guidance on contracts
Tried to make sure Blacks were fairly compensated for their work
Set up schools and training institutes
Confiscated lands from the Southern plantation owners for redistribution to the thousands of formerly enslaved people
Offered police protection for free people

Johnson also vetoed the Congress’ Civil Right’s Act, affirming that all native born people (except Native Americans) were citizens of the United States. Congress overrode that veto also.

The Memphis Riot of 1866 (Memphis Massacre) took place May 1-3.

Over 45 Black people were killed and hundreds were injured
2-3 White people were killed. One was killed for talking to Black people. The others were killed with their own weapons.
Was begun by a false rumor that a Black soldier had killed a White police officer
Police and a White mob burned the Black churches, schools and residences, shot randomly at Black people and raped Black women.

Many people felt this confirmed President Johnson’s fears of race wars and blamed Black people. However many media outlets and Radical Republicans cast the blame on White policemen and the Johnson Administration.

On July 30, 1866 unarmed Black Delegates marched to the Mechanics Institute in New Orleans. Their goal was to make the state’s constitution more inclusive. When they reached the institute, White police officers and other aggressive White mobsters shouted insults back and forth and the police began shooting their guns. Although the Black people wove white flags of surrender, the police shot all the men.

The mayor and city officials refused to step in
48 Black people died and over 200 were wounded
White supporters were also killed
Wounded Black Delegates were arrested and charged with inciting a riot
Not one White person was charged with murder

When Johnson vetoed the Freedman’s Bureau Bill and The Civil Rights Bill, he lost support of his own party in Congress. The riots had made things worse. While giving a speech in Cleveland, Ohio on September 3, 1866, someone heckled Johnson, placing some of the blame for the riot in New Orleans on him. Johnson’s infuriated response was reprinted nationwide.

As people continued to lay blame on the president he continued to lay blame on the Republicans and Freedman’s Bureau, stating that their policies made slaves of White people. This is what caused the topic of impeachment to come up. People didn’t care for Johnson’s violent talk against other leaders. They also felt he lacked the decorum expected of a United States President…Reading about our 17th president does seem reminiscent of our 45th president.

The 14th Amendment gave birth right citizenship and equal rights to Black Americans but not suffrage. Douglass could understand how a person with equal rights could constitutionally take the right to vote away from another person.

January 5, 1867 President Johnson vetoed Washington D.C.’s Franchise Law, granting voting rights to Black men. Congress overrode his veto.

Reasons given by many for impeachment of President Johnson:

Drunken behavior
Racist efforts to undermine Reconstruction
Usurping the power of the Legislative Branch
Many blamed Johnson for loss of life in Memphis and New Orleans

None of these were reasons for Johnson’s impeachment. On February 24, 1868 Johnson was impeached for high crimes and misdemeanors. Johnson was impeached because he ignored a law that made it illegal for him to fire anyone whose appointment had been approved by the Senate. Namely, Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton in February of 1868. The law was part of The Tenure of Office Act Congress had created to constrain Johnson’s ability to fire and hire high-level officials. It was created after he had vetoed 2 Reconstruction Acts that Congress had had to overthrow. Johnson not only fired Stanton but replaced him with Lorenzo Thomas without Congressional approval.

Johnson vetoed that Freedman’s Bureau because he believed it was each state’s obligation to aid and protect Black people and not the Federal government. He argued that Black people had the same protection as White people in the ex-Confederate states. Congress overrode his vetoes so Johnson used his presidential power to protect Southern white landowners and fired bureau officials.

To impeach President Johnson, prosecutors from the House of Representatives would have to prove he had violated the terms of the Tenure of Office Act. Regardless of how many people felt about Reconstruction, the focus of the articles of impeachment were based mainly on the Tenure of Office Act and public opinion had to stay out as much as possible. There was one argument: it was illegal for Johnson to fire a Senate appointee while Senate was not in session. But that was only one of many little arbitrary arguments made during the trial.

Black Americans wanted Johnson to be convicted for being the “demented Moses of Tennessee.” He had promised to be a leader but was truly an oppressor who brought death and suffering to freed people. Benjamin Butler tried to argue against Johnson’s policies regarding Reconstruction but the judge would not hear his arguments.

Douglass saw impeachment of Johnson as a challenge to White Supremacy. He felt that Black Male Suffrage was the best way to fight White Supremacists. Douglass supported Women’s Suffrage but not at the expense of Black Male Suffrage and delaying reforms he had been advocating since the Civil War.

Douglass was upset that Republicans had failed to provide a fast impeachment but had wasted time arguing over technicalities. He felt that a conviction would mean, “that the fair South shall no longer be governed by Regulators and the Ku-Klux Klan, but by fair and impartial law.” Douglass’ reference to Regulators was he he coined other White Supremacist groups.

The Republican Party became known for Reconstruction. They also became known for economic conservatism.

Johnson was acquitted by his party but he did not have their support for a 2nd term. Ulysses S. Grant and Schuyler Colfax would run and win as the 18th President and Vice President of the United States of American. Both men supported Black Suffrage but it was not included in the party platform.

The Democrats chose Horatio Seymour who was very racist and opportunistic. Frank P. Blair would have been his Vice President, had Seymour won. That fact that the Democrats could put forward potential leaders who hated Black Americans just as the 13th and 14th Amendments were ratified outraged Frederick Douglass and proved there was much more work to do.

Andrew Johnson was acquitted but the rest of his presidency was pretty futile, however the Democratic Party, which he now aligned himself with, had grown in size throughout that United States. When he returned to Tennessee in 1869, he tried to run for positions but no one wanted to vote for him. In 1875 he returned to Washington, D.C.:

Democrats were the majority party
Black Americans had achieved some representation in Congress and State House Representatives
The 15th Amendment allowed all United States citizens the right to vote
Grant created the Department of Justice to prosecute the Ku Klux Klan
Naturalization Act of 1870 allowed for people of African descent to apply for United States citizenship

Johnson was welcomed back to Congress and sworn in, only to serve a short time. He died of a stroke only 4 months later. Until his death Johnson recommended a path of moderation and calmness toward changes between the races.

Some say that President Johnson failed at Reconstruction but that is not the view of Levine. The United States failed. There was just too much history to overcome by one war and 3 amendments. You can’t legislate humanity. I believe we are still working on Reconstruction. Much like this book review, which is not really a book review but a diagram of historic events, sometimes you have to take the long way.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of The Failed Promise Reconstruction, Frederick Douglass, and the Impeachment of Andrew Johnson by Robert S. Levine on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

The Failed Promise: Reconstruction, Frederick Douglass, and the Impeachment of Andrew Johnson by Robert S. Levine
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

My wife picked this book out but couldn’t finish it, so I did. It was a heavy topic and I had to take several breaks. I also had to Google some topics that Levine didn’t explain well but overall I thought it was a great book and I intend to buy a copy so I can go through it again and my wife can read it without time constraints. Reconstruction is a broad part of United States’ history and one I think we are still going through it.

View all my reviews

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 Have Been Learning Me

by Summer D Clemenson | Mar 10, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions

I have been learning me diligently for about 20 years now. It might be odd that I didn’t start until I was in my mid-20’s for some, but it makes sense to me. I lived in a very controlled environment. It didn’t even occur to me to ask myself what I wanted until I was 35-years-old. I am not angry about it. It is just a fact. I don’t believe that age confines us to anything. I believe that age is just a number to keep track of how long we have been here, what is important is what we think and believe.

In fact what I thought and believed kept me in a small and controlled environment because I didn’t believe I could leave. I didn’t have faith in myself. I was scared. In reality I can’t afford to live on my own. The cost of living is well beyond my disability benefits, which I didn’t have when I was living in my controlled environment. Even with a wife who works 2 jobs we have had a hell of a time finding housing that isn’t too close to the industrial area of town or infested with bugs. I can’t live with either. We lived 2 blocks from the industrial area for 3 years and I was constantly sick and terrified with the drug and gang life that surround the area. We lived with cockroaches and bed bugs for 11 months and I came really close to another mental break; I still have flashbacks. I think people that can live in these environments are so brave. I am not brave in this way.

I hate fighting. I avoid it and have avoided it at all costs all my life. I am so thankful that Karen and I agree on this. We don’t fight. We both grew up with fighting. We have fought about 2 times; for real fights. Enough to know we fight the same. No one is listening and everyone is screaming and saying things you can’t take back. So we don’t fight. We take a time out and then we talk it out. Tearing down the team is not on our agenda. But most of the world is not made this way. But as I addressed in Addressing Mental Health Issues, I often fight inside my head with characters that I don’t have in my life anymore, or rather I used to have in my life.

Since I have relinquished these characters to God with His blessings on them, I have been able to sleep better. But they snuck back in through my dreams the last few nights. I tried to ignore them but they were sitting there, ready to fight, until I remembered that I don’t have to live with them and I asked God to take them and love them and bless them and keep them far from me and I feel so much better. I want their wellness and if we are to reconnect, I want God to orchestrate that. Right now I am working on being at peace and I can’t do that while fighting with people who aren’t actually here.

All my life I was told I would never succeed because I was fat. I would never have the job, relationship and health I want because I was fat. I read the books that were put in front of me, I watched and worked out with the videos they placed in front of me; I believed them. But you know what? There is more to me than my fatness. Even though many in the world are afraid or angry with me about my size, I don’t have to be. A few weeks ago I started to think those thoughts because my underwear is falling apart. When I went to the site where I bought them in the past I had to search my purchases because I couldn’t remember the brand and I remember that I really like how they fit in the beginning of our relationship. They didn’t fall down, they didn’t pull, the fabric breathed nice and I didn’t feel too warm. I bought the same brand for Karen, funny enough, I bought her’s 2 years ago, which started me thinking a different thought. Now I wanted to see how long it has been since I bought myself new underwear. You know what? I have been wearing the same underwear for 3 years. I had forgot to replace them sooner. No wonder they are starting to fall apart. It isn’t because I am fat. It is because I forgot to buy new ones…and guess who it getting new underwear next month? Self care is so important.

I am not saying that I should not be aware of my eating habits and working out, but beating myself up about my size is not healthy either. I am very fat. But my blood pressure is always good, unless I am in a lot of pain or angry. My cholesterol is in normal range. My a1C is in pre-diabetic range with the lowest dose of medication. All my blood tests are good. I do have cancer but we are working on that. I have chronic mental and physical illnesses but I might have had all of these if I were skinny too. I recently had a CT scan on my organs and they all look good. There is a little fat on my liver, so I am making a few more changes to my diet; less processed foods, more nuts for healthy fats, but I already don’t drink anything but water, herb tea and maybe a decaf Americano 2-3 times a week. I cook most of our food so I can control what types of carbs and ingredients we are eating; I eat oatmeal with dried fruit and nuts made with almond milk in the morning and that is what brought my cholesterol down.

We did have a treat yesterday though because you have to have treats every now and then. I am so excited that I finally found the pizza of my cravings. For years I have this taste I have craved but have never found it until yesterday. We have tried several pizzas at PieTrio’s Pizzeria and always enjoyed them but it was never perfect until yesterday when I decided to get the BYOP. You can choose 4 toppings so I chose Beef, Salami, Artichoke hearts and Fresh mushrooms. It was perfection! Their crispy crust and the perfect red sauce with the lightest hint of fennel and just the right amount to mozzarella was amazing! Why am I telling you this? Because it made me happy and two thin slices were satisfying and I like to support local business when I can. If you haven’t tried them, you should.

PieTrio’s Pizzeria
614 Commerce Ave Longview, WA 98632
360-353-3512
Find them on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pietrios/

Also the fact that I can occasional enjoy some pizza with red sauce proves that my stomach has healed a lot. I have successfully removed nightshades and kept gluten to a minimum so that on occasion I can have a little bit. Although I love tomatoes, my stomach and joints can’t handle them every day. My stomach doesn’t even digest bell peppers or most peppers. So pizza is a treat, not a lifestyle, which is the way it should be anyway.

Everyone’s wellness journey is personal. What works for one, wont work for another and that is ok. I was at a doTERRA class about supplements, yesterday, and we were sharing experiences and people were suggesting things for my chronic stuff. They didn’t understand that I have been doing this a long time. I have been using doTERRA for 11 years and although I don’t know all their products I have tried almost all of their oils. I appreciated the suggestions and was glad to share that my response to Turmeric is anaphylactic so, no, Turmeric is not an option for me because I like to live. But I did learn about a product that I would never have tried because in other forms it doesn’t work for me but after hearing about how it is working for others for chronic pain, I am willing to try it. Maybe it will help me overcome some of my pain so I can train for the 5K I still want to do…after I have healed from the hysterectomy I will probably be having in the next few months, of course.

I was recently invited to join a group on Facebook that looked like a nutrition group. I hate feeling interrupted by groups but I thought I would give it a try. Turns out is a group to market diet foods based on some MMA from the past. I know doTERRA is an MMA too but it is my only one and I don’t tend to purchase anything but oils and I love their deodorant. My body can’t process fake sugars and food coloring well. It causes my blood pressure to shoot up, sometimes the coloring comes out my sinuses or other weird places. I don’t know if it is the fake colors or the oils they use to make them stick to the powders but I just don’t eat diet food. I am better off with a burger and fries than diet food, in most cases. I gave it a try but I can’t stay in a group that keep showing me pictures of “donut holes” that are “healthy”. That isn’t working for me. I have worked really hard to learn how to learn how to enjoy real food in moderation or learn to enjoy healthier foods to sabotage myself like this.

Now all I need is a … well God knows. Thanks for reading.

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.

Book Review: Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

by Summer D Clemenson | Feb 20, 2023 | Book & Product Reviews, Opinions

I first heard about the book, Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, when I was reading The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams. It was then that I committed to reading all the books listed in that book. I found this one at The Longview Public Library.

I was so excited to find this book but I made the mistake of having a list of 5 books to pick up that day when I went to the library. I also had asked them about another book that I had forgotten about, that was finally available…and of course the ones that called to me while I was walking around. I brought home a lot of books. By the time I got to this one I had gone through some really heavy reads, not to mention some really heavy living of my own. It doesn’t usually take me a month to read a 477 page book but that is how long it took me to read this one. What did I learn? I will only plan ahead to pick up 1 book when I go to the library from now on.

This book is amazing in that it covers so many topics. It is a love story. It is an immigration story. It is a coming of age story. It talks about politics, governments, history, cultures and all while explaining all the characters in Americanah. Adichie was able to help me get over my dislike of romantic novels by helping me learn to love the characters and understand why they did what they did in such an honest way. Although it took a while to catch me, eventually, I was caught and couldn’t wait to pick up the book to see what was going to happen next.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Adichie writes about humanity in such authentic voice that is both bold and gentle, depending on what is necessary. I am not a big reader of romance novels, generally, and it did take me a moment to fall in love with Ifemelu and Obinze as a couple but Adichie did so well at building them us as characters on their own journey that the book finally held me and called me again and again until I could not separate myself from this book. Being human is hard no matter where you live.

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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.

Cancer Update February 6, 2023: D&C under anesthesia

by Summer D Clemenson | Feb 14, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions

I had my 4th procedure on Monday February 6, 2023. When I say procedure I am speaking of a D&C under anesthesia. My oncologist removed the IUD, filled my body with gas and made my uterus dilate. She inserted a camera to see what there was to see and took biopsies of the tissue in the lining of my uterus and removed any obvious cancer cells. Although it is a common procedure and I have had it 3 other times besides this time, I still was very anxious and very thankful that Karen could be with me until it was time to go to the operating room.

When I am very anxious I twitch in my torso and legs, sometimes in my arms. The anesthesiologist noticed when she came to see me before the procedure and I let her know about my random and involuntary twitching. She told me she had some medicine for that that she would give to me before she put me to sleep.

I hate the ride to the operating room. It makes me feel out of control and a little nauseous, even with the patch they put behind my ear to avoid that. So I keep my eyes closed. The operating room is very intimidating. It seems extremely large when you are on a gurney. Almost bulbous. There are people on all sides of the rooms getting things ready, just for you. You hear all kinds of sounds, music, tools being prepared that sound much like setting a large family dining room table. Everyone has those little booties over their shoes so their feet make that faint shuffle sound with every step. But as they asked me to move from the gurney to the cold, metal operating table all I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears as, what seemed like 5 nurses, all trying to offer their help with my gown and getting my arms in the right spot and getting me centered on the table.

I have skinny and deep veins. It is always a challenge to get an IV in my arms. I know this, so I made sure to drink a gallon of water the 2 days before my procedure and a liter of water before I was cut off from any fluids. It is the only thing I can do to help; making sure I am not dehydrated is all I can control. This day was no different. They brought in the hot packs, they beat on my arms, they had the tourniquets on and finally brought in the special light to be able to see where my veins were. They chose a spot that is hard for the technicians in the operating room, my wrist. If my hand is not perfect the medicine doesn’t go in so someone has to hold my hand during the procedure to make sure I don’t wake up. Usually I am asleep a lot faster but on this day, it took us a minute to realize the arrangement we were stuck with by the phlebotomist. My oncologist came in and flipped my blanket and gown over my face. The nurses quickly said hello to the doctor but obviously more with their eyes, because my gown was pulled down and my doctor said hello to me. I was able to say, “Hello Dr Westhoff,” before I fell asleep…this the fourth time we have met like this, at some point modesty is not on the top of the list.

When I woke up I was being returned to my room. I felt like my vagina had been scrubbed by a pine cone and that pine cone had been shoved in my uterus and was quietly on fire. I don’t remember it feeling this bad after other procedures. I kept telling people how bad it hurt. Unlike other times where I was ready to jump off the bed, get dressed and leave, this time I was not in a hurry, although I wanted Karen to be found as quickly as possible. The nurse told me I had been brought directly from the OR to my room, instead of going to recovery first so this must be the difference. At some point Karen showed up. No one offered me any of the nice intravenous meds I had been offered in the past and if I could just stop the world from spinning, I was ready to go home and be miserable there. I was offered one dose of oxy but I turned it down. I don’t like that stuff.

The next day it was obvious that just as the other times, I had needed to be put under more so I would stop moving. I know this because my throat was burning from the tube that had been put down my throat. I have had a terrible cough since as my throat has healed. I move all the time. I rarely stop, even if it is only small movements. I am sure this makes it hard to do what the doctor needs to do.

This week has been hard. More emotionally hard than anything else. I have been depressed for the last month and let me tell you, this procedure is not what you need to come out of it. I feel isolated and the after effects of surgery for me are not fun. My body does not like to be poked and prodded and there are ways it shows me, both mentally and physically that are unpleasant.

I have been watching for emails from my doctor about the biopsy. I got one a few days ago that said there was still cancer there. I wasn’t surprised because I had been ordered to begin the cancer meds again. We had stopped them after I had the blood clots in my lungs, back in October, so that my body could respond and get rid of them. Cancer meds aren’t fun. I keep telling myself I am lucky because other people have to fight harder with other methods that are more painful…but today I got an email from my oncologist that said we have to talk about radiation.

I didn’t need this today. I am so tired. I am so sick of pills. I am so angry to be stuck in this body. There is always a barrier standing in front of me and I just want a bit of freedom…

…and yet God is faithful and He will bring me through this 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.

Her Needs Were Often Greater Than Mine

by Summer D Clemenson | Jan 23, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I don’t remember ever trusting my mother. It wasn’t that she didn’t love me. It was that she was more than one person. My friend Jeff knows the kind, creative and generous woman that most people know and I am so glad he knows that woman, but I know many different women and I never knew which one would show up. I knew a woman that was also a child that I needed to parent. Her needs were often greater than mine, in more than one way.

Mental illness comes in many forms. The paperwork I found in her desk said Borderline Personality Disorder. BPD is a real monster. It tells the person who has it they are nothing and deserve to die; that everyone hates them. People with BPD often lead productive lives because they can throw themselves into work but that is where they spend all their energy and home is where they are exhausted. They tend to have insomnia, obsessive behaviors and a particular person they release their frustrations on. I am my mother’s person.

When I was little, before my parent’s divorce, my father was my only stability. He protected me from my mother and my younger sibling’s behaviors. He taught me to find things to do to stay constructive. He taught the androgynous mind in my head how to find answers. I didn’t think like my mother and siblings. I was more direct and assertive. But when he left, I had no one.

My mother was scared of so many things. She had to look good and right in front of everyone, even when it was impossible to do so. That put a huge toll on me because she relied on me to make sure I helped her do this. It was implied while my parents were married, but it was obvious when she pulled me into her bedroom when I was 9 to tell me that my Dad was leaving and they were getting a divorce. That was the day I became her actual therapist, housekeeper and babysitter. That was the day my childhood was over, although I found moments to play even through high school.

I skipped being a teenager.

I should never have been left with my younger siblings. I was only 3 1/2 years older than my younger sibling and 5 1/2 years older than my baby sibling. I was angry. I was probably already having migraines and showing signs of Anxiety Disorder…but we didn’t know about that until I was well into my 30s and 40’s. My siblings did not respect me and neither did my mother.

Although I was not respected, I loved my family and I wanted my siblings to be safe. I took the abuse in place of my siblings. I thought I was doing them good. Now I know I may have only been making things worse because I really don’t know their stories. They certainly have stories of an angry and abusive sister. As the one that always felt responsible for everyone, it is hard to place the responsibility where it belongs and leave it there.

While I grew up, I was told I hated my mother, but I loved her with everything I had, while I often felt unloved. I was told I didn’t respect my mother, but I was never respected for keeping decent grades, helping with the house, my siblings and later with bills. I was called terrible names and told I would never succeed in life and every ache and pain was because I was fat…even my doctors don’t say that. Hugs were unheard of unless I was falling apart. I never told anything to my mother because she always called everyone she knew to tell them, sickness, success, bad behaviors, nothing was sacred or not needed for her to get the attention she needed. Even being sick…I didn’t let her take me to the doctor when I needed to go because that would turn into a something about her while I nursed myself and then when anyone else was sick and I didn’t think to take care of them, I was told I was not compassionate.

My therapist says it is amazing that I can see the many sides of my mother and appreciate the complexity of her. It isn’t that I don’t love her or respect her because I have great love and respect for her. I think she is amazingly talented and intelligent. She has built a life for herself on her own that I hope makes her happy. But I am also terrified of her.

Terrified because the sound of her at the door makes me feel like I need to jump up and find something to be doing when she comes in so she wont yell as much. Terrified because she will find several things to criticize me about and she doesn’t have to follow any of the rules I have to follow. Terrified because I know she will tell everyone she knows about our visit, even if I ask that not do that, and not only that but she will bring her stories to tell, that I don’t want to hear and she will expect me to be the therapist I have asked her to get for years.

Terrified because she is going to make me guard the boundaries I have to set, like a well-trained guard dog and I really just want to be a daughter. I disconnected from my family several years ago, not because I didn’t love them but because I was tired of being “othered”. I don’t deserve to be left out, cancelled on and given a separate set of rules.

Note: Anna is very agitated lately. My mother has been emailing me and Anna is running amuck. She has decided I have to start telling my stories. To be honest, I don’t remember a lot of details, but Anna is keeping me awake at night. The Last Time I Saw Him bought me 2 nights of rest. I am hoping this will bring me a few nights of sleep…

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.

The Last Time I Saw Him

by Summer D Clemenson | Jan 21, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions

The last time I saw him on purpose was because my niece had invited me to her graduation from high school. I will do anything I am able to do for my nieces and nephews and they know it. They were my reason for showing up; they had been for years. Each of them hold a piece of my heart.

It had been a hard and expensive week. We were living with friends because we didn’t make enough money to rent our own place. My niece had also invited us to her last ballet, which we had gone to a few nights earlier and then come home. Traveling is very hard with my disabilities so this night we had booked a room at a hotel in Marysville, Washington.

This day we had come to town in time to meet for lunch. I was excited to see my oldest nephew, since he does not answer my attempts to communicate. I threw my arms around my 6 foot tall, purple haired, adult nephew, that I haven’t seen in a few years, who announced he is bisexual…I totally don’t care…so I told him to hug me, and then I met his boyfriend. My youngest nephew was also there, I also hadn’t seen him in a few years and I was so excited to see him and hug him too. I was eager to place myself in the middle of the tables to face them and my niece, who was sitting close to her grandmother, to hear what they had to say about life.

I could feel opposing energies from either end of the table where my parents and one of my siblings sat and my another sibling and her spouse sat. We were still adjusting meds for me and I was trying to not crawl out of my skin. The stress from my step-mother and younger sibling was so large it almost needed its own room. I didn’t have words for them. I hadn’t had words for them for some time. I was still friendly with my older sibling.

When we left we had planned to check into our hotel and then go over to my older sibling’s house to visit but when you are chronic you don’t always have full control of what your body is going to do. I sat on the bed and passed out. I woke up, barely in time to go to the graduation.

My older sibling has lived in Marysville for several years but I have only learned the areas she has lived in, the houses she had lived in and the grocery stores and shopping centers we go to. We tended to stay at her house when I have come to visit. I did not know the arena we were going to for my niece’s graduation or the busy area around it. The parking was hard. There were lots of family members that came for the event and lots of businesses around the building. We ended up parking about 4 or 5 blocks away from the event center.

I was so tired already and by the time we reached the graduation, people were moving out of the way and offering me disabled seating. I looked a bit rough. I don’t do well in the sun or the heat, let alone being exhausted before a walk. Thank God I remembered my cane. While we waited I could see my family, a few rows beneath us. They looked up at us and waved. I read faces, but I could be wrong, so I will leave it at that.

The ceremony was wonderful. The school did a great job celebrating each student. Afterward we were speed walking towards the end of the building (I didn’t know this would be part of the event) to reach my niece. She was leaving shortly for a trip with her graduating class. It was a big building. I wake up in pain so you can imagine how the pain had continued to get worse throughout the day; Fibromyalgia, Lymphedema and Psoriatic and Osteoarthritis are not friendly…Generalized Anxiety Disorder can be quite a bear too, luckily so far, PTSD had decided to stay home.

I was so thankful I was able to hug my niece and tell her how proud I was of her. That was the point of all of that day.

After she was gone, we all filtered outside, but I was disoriented and I didn’t have it in me to act as though I were well as usual. I was trying to hold myself together and Karen and I tried to remember what direction our car was. No one was talking to us so we had walked away from the group and began looking at the streets and trying to remember the way we came.

My father came up to me and thanked me for coming. He hugged me. Unlike usual I didn’t try to be strong. I didn’t have it in me. I said, “I hurt.” I heard the little girl voice come out that shows itself when I am super tired. My father didn’t hold on like you see fathers on TV. He jumped back. He did ask where our car was. When we told him we didn’t know. He said he had to go get his and ran away.

I always hoped my dad would be like Charles Ingalls on Little House on the Prairie. In some ways he is. He has the work ethic. But he is not the nurturer.

My father has spent his life running from me. At least that is the way I feel. For my birthday this year, my step-mother filled out a card that said they loved me with the obligatory check. Yet they have never sent a get well card, email, or letter. I suppose they are angry that I wont let them call me but I have a phobia of the phone. Our phone calls are always stressful anyway, no matter who called.

I mailed the check back. I wrote a note saying that I had never wanted any of his things or his money, I wanted relationship. I wanted him to show that he was interested in me. But I was tired of waiting and I asked him to please let me go.

I don’t believe that all my parents tried to fail me. I think they did the best they could. But they left me alone a lot. Too much. Thankfully God never left me alone. It is because of God that I can forgive them and be thankful for what each of them has taught me, but I don’t have to continue to be feel rejected or left alone. And that is why I want to be left alone.

God is my true Father. He has always been with me and kept every promise.

I am thankful for my real Father that has known me before He made me and has helped me and continues to help me as I heal from being an emotional neglect and abuse survivor.

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.

Book Review: Crazy Brave: A Memoir by Joy Harjo

by Summer D Clemenson | Jan 17, 2023 | Life, Opinions

I found the book, Crazy Brave: A Memoir by Joy Harjo, completely by accident. I was on the Longview Public Library’s website looking for another book and they suggested this one to me based on other books I have checked out. I really enjoyed this book. It was a breath of fresh air after the heavy story of the House of Gucci. Of course it had it’s own moments of family issues, Harjo was always striving for peace and she found it.

“East is the direction of beginning. It is sunrise. When beloved sun rises, it is an entrance, a door to fresh knowledge. Breathe the light in. Call upon the assistance you need for the day. Give thanks.” Chapter 1

Joy Harjo’s family is from Tulsa, Oklahoma, her mother is Cherokee and her father is Mvskoke. She is reminded to be respectful to mystery and walk this earthly path with compassion. Her father was an alcoholic who abused her mother. They divorced when Harjo was 8-years-old.

“North is the direction where the difficult teachers live. It is prophecy.” Chapter 2

When Harjo’s mother married her White stepfather, he was nice before the marriage but after the marriage, he proved to be physically and emotionally abusive to Harjo, her mother and her 2 brothers and sister. He was very jealous and controlling. Everything creative had to stop when the stepfather came home. He would beat them for singing.

Harjo loved to read. She loved the discipline and the ritual of learning and read her quota of books from the library every week. She was the library reference for her friends. When she was in high school, she was able to get free from her abusive home by traveling to Santa Fe, California and enrolling at the Institute of American Indian Arts, a high school for Native American students from all over the United States.

“We were all ‘skins’ traveling together in an age of metamorphosis, facing the same traumas from colonization and dehumanization. We were direct evidence of the struggle of our ancestors…We continued to battle with troubled families and the history we could never leave behind. These tensions often erupted in violence provoked by alcohol, drugs and the ordinary frustrations of being human.” Chapter 2

“West is the direction of endings. It is the doorway to the ancestors, the direction of tests. It represents leaving and being left and learning to find the road in the darkness.” Chapter 3

Harjo met her high school boyfriend while at IAIA. She enjoyed learning about painting and drawing but also about theatre, dance, meditation — she also became pregnant. After school let out for the summer she joined him in Tahlequah, Oklahoma where his mother lived.

Once the baby was born they moved to Tulsa, then back to Sante Fe. They had tried marriage but it didn’t work and Harjo finally took her son and moved on.

“South is the direction of release. It is fire and creativity. It is the tails of 2 snakes making a spiral, looping over and over, an eternal transformation.” Chapter 4

Harjo’s dreams were always speaking to her and believes if you don’t answer them they will drag you down with great sadness from abandonment. She kept up her schooling and working in political and social topics that meant a lot to here. She found that many Native Americans were inspired by Black Americans but they did not want to become full-fledged United States citizens, they wanted to maintain they tribal culture.

While in school, Harjo began struggling with panic attacks. She was in a relationship with a man that was wonderful if he was sober but not when he wasn’t and she had to finally make the choice to let him go. She also had to face her own alcohol addiction. As she continued to come to know herself she finally was able to begin writing poetry and learn to follow the poetry on her path.

I believe this book is about growth and learning to let go of fear which, to me is the meaning of life. I highly recommend this book and I look forward to reading some of Harjo’s poetry soon.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of Crazy Brave: A Memoir by Joy Harjo on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

Crazy Brave by Joy Harjo
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I found Crazy Brave by Joy Harjo to be inspiring. I could relate to her on many levels and learn from her as well. There is much to learn from this book and from this woman.

View all my reviews

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.

Book Review: Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 30, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Opinions

I didn’t mean to check out Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel from the library. I had read it years ago but as I walked passed it, it called to me and I am so glad I answered it’s call. Especially because it isn’t anything like what I remember. I don’t know that is from illness or that I have changed so much that I process things differently, but I remember loving this book back then, and I love it now.

Like Water for Chocolate is a magical book. Tita, the main character, is a cook and how she feels affects the way people feel when they eat her food. This can be a good thing or very bad thing. In the book we watch Tita grow in the confines of strict family tradition, while surrounded by such magic that the dreams and food are fantastic. Throughout the book are fabulous recipes and dramatic descriptions of the De la Garza Ranch in Mexico while the country is at war.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Simply magical. I loved it!

View all my reviews

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.

Go to the Doctor

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 29, 2022 | Chronic Illness, Community, Education, Life, Opinions, Prayers, Wellness

This morning I was having my morning scroll on Facebook and I saw a lovely lady that I used to work with was suffering with sinus pain and she was desperate. So desperate that she had asked people on Facebook what she should do to get relief. In frustration I typed what I type for every post I see that is similar to this one: Go to the doctor.

People have often asked me if I have Googled my symptoms…because I always have many. I don’t rely on the internet for knowledge because you don’t have to have a degree or any experience at all to write an article or to get the attention of others to validate you. If I were a celebrity, I could say anything and you might believe me. But since I am a normal person with chronic illness, my knowledge comes from personal experience and visits to my primary doctor and specialists and reading what they give me. Sometimes I back that up with articles on the Mayo Clinic site or other reputable sites, but I get most of my information from medical professionals because they know more than I do, I take a lot of prescriptions and I have a lot of sensitivities so over the counter medications are not always acceptable options for me. If I do ask a friend a question, it is my wife, Karen G Clemenson, or my sister, Jamie Holloway. Why? Because Karen goes to my appointments with me and she lives with me and she might remember something I don’t and Jamie has been chronic longer than me and she had experienced things I haven’t and I respect her input.

Even with all this experience we have, Karen and Jamie and I all ask each other: How long should you live with this before you see your doctor?

We didn’t used to say this to each other. We were raised by parents that were poor and didn’t see the doctor when they needed to and were proud to bear their pain. We learned to handle pain and sickness but even though Karen has the immune system straight from heaven, Jamie and I do not and we can’t ignore pain and sickness anymore. Neither do we encourage others to do so. I know sometimes it is hard to find a doctor that you trust but keep trying. Maybe you just need to go a few more times; they might be having a hard day or be a little shy. Doctors are human too.

Maybe you need more than your primary can offer. That is another conversation you need to have with your primary. If that headache is not going away or it is so severe you can function, maybe you need to see a neurologist or ear, nose and throat specialist (ENT). In these cases, you need to ask for a referral, if your primary isn’t offering one. The way the medical system is set up, especially in Longview, Washington, you must advocate for yourself. You have to come with questions and know the limitations of your primary. Seeing a specialist is more money and time but you are worth it. Your health is worth it.

So next time you’re not feeling well and it lasts longer than you can bear or longer than a week. Go to the doctor!

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.

Book Review: Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word by Randall Kennedy

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 28, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Education, Life, Opinions

I am glad I didn’t purchase this book, as I had planned, but found Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word by Randall Kennedy at the library instead. This book was a hard read. It was negative, I think it could have been organized better and I learned very little more than what I already knew about the N-word. The book was only 176 pages long and it took me forever to read because I just didn’t want to.

The word Nigger is derived from the Latin word for the color black; niger. According to the Random House Historical Dictionary of American Slang. Nigger was not originally meant as a negative term but somewhere between 1619 when John Rolf recorded in his journal the first shipment of Africans to Virginia, and in 1837, when in A Treatise on the Intellectual Character and Civil and Political Condition of the Colored People of the United States, and the Prejudice Exercised Towards Them, Hosea Easton wrote that nigger “is an opprobrious term, employed to impose contempt upon [Blacks] as an inferior race.” Chapter 1

In 1985 social psychologists tested groups of White college students judging Black and White debaters. After the debates people nearby spoke of the Black contestants as niggers, or in a non-racial way, but negative way, and some made no comment at all. The psychologists found that the speakers that were slurred tended to have lower scores than the other debaters. This led them to believe this could have an effect on parole board hearings, promotion committee meetings, and jury deliberations. Chapter 2

Three Theories About the Use of the N-Word:

The long and ugly history of the white racist and subordination of Black Americans should disqualify Whites from using this word.
The equity earned through oppression grants Blacks cultural ownership rights so they should be allowed to monopolize on the slur’s cultural capital.
White people do not have enough intimate knowledge of Black culture to use the N-word properly.

In one part of the book there are lists of rhymes and songs that were popular at some point in time. I was raised in a white family and in a white town. My parents were careful about what I watched on TV. I didn’t hear or see the N-word until I was old enough to look it up in the dictionary. I was surprised when I saw a familiar rhyme in this book but it had a word in it that was wrong. I never liked this rhyme because I wouldn’t want to catch anything by it’s toe. I didn’t want to hurt anything and I imagine that it would hurt to be caught by your toe. Sometimes it is fun to be “little girls” my wife and I asked her about this rhyme, hoping she could remember the word:

When she got to “nigger” her whole countenance changed as if someone had stepped on her shoulders. When she saw the shock in my face, she said “Tiger.”

My wife wasn’t raised in a white family or a white town. I forget that sometimes. I wish I hadn’t asked her about that rhyme because obviously someone had used those words to demean her and take her beautiful smile off her face. Now I really hate that rhyme.

On a side note, I never forgot what that dictionary at the school library said the meaning of the word nigger was: a four legged animal. I can’t find a dictionary that says that anymore.

In our home we don’t use the N-word unless we are talking about the use of it. We understand that some black households believe that they have the right to the ownership of it but in the mixing of cultures it too easy to misread a room. We agree that using the word nigger stops us from moving forward. It is important to know our history, learn from it and to not hide our history, but we don’t need to warp it and wear it like a blanket filled with holes and rot.

“The persistent viability of the N-word in the Black community, is a scar from centuries of cultural racism.” Professor Halford, H Fairchild, Chapter 3

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of Nigger The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word by Randall Kennedy on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word by Randall Kennedy
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

This was a hard read. I felt like it could have been organized better. The topic, itself, was hard and I don’t really feel like I learned anything.

View all my reviews

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 Allergic to Live Christmas Trees

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 23, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Thanksgiving

When I was little we always had an artificial tree. I am sure part of the reason was because I was a very easily sick child. We started with a very small tree, maybe because my parents were afraid I would pull it over onto myself and then for a short while we lived in an apartment before we found our house on Oak Street when we moved to Longview. Then we got the big artificial tree. I don’t think my parents knew I am allergic to live Christmas trees; it was probably more of an economic choice on my father’s behalf.

The year after their divorce, my mother wanted to try things differently so she got a live tree and new ornaments. I struggled to get the tree into the stand and the lights just so. This job had always been Dad’s job and now it was mine. Yeah! (Not really) Somehow we lived through getting the tree up. I didn’t like the smell and the vacuuming was never ending. And the congestion and coughing was getting worse and worse every minute.

For the entire Christmas season I had to listen to my mother blame my unexpected sickness on a sudden allergy to my cat…Maxine had slept with me every night since she’d moved in and I never had a problem, but suddenly I was allergic to her. I didn’t see the logic in my 10-year-old mind.

Another difference was that we suddenly had to be afraid of the lights. On the artificial tree we could leave the lights plugged in and we never had to water it and the shedding was minimal. My vacuuming time had increased substantially…

Minutes after the tree had been thrown out the back door and the last needle vacuumed up, my congestion had almost completely cleared up…and by the next Christmas a new artificial tree had been purchased.

I have had employees that put up live trees that noticed that I was fine at the top of my shift and my eyes are red and swollen and I was coughing and sneezing by the end of my shift; not optimal when you work at an answering service…We learned to keep some of the doors shut for my benefit and I always keep cough drops on hand. Man was I happy when I saw new employers drag out artificial trees!

So many times people seem so sad for me when I tell them this little truth of mine, but I am not. Since I am allergic to them, the smell does not bring happy memories to me. If you take care of your artificial tree, you can use it indefinitely. I have used the same 6 ft tree, bought at Walmart, for over 25+ years at my home and at many other homes. If you are good at decorating, you can’t tell it is not real and although my tree has never been able to take Xavier’s weight, my mother’s 8 foot tree was able to hold him for a nap or two before he decided that he preferred the lit up sparkly fabric I used to put around the foot of her tree. If she had not run the stand over with her truck, while it was in the garage, it would still be standing. Heck with the help with some fishing line I got it to stand for one more Christmas anyway…

What I miss about Christmas is security and traditions. It seems like Karen and I haven’t been able to have those at the same time for a long time. I wouldn’t trade these years where we have grown and learned so much for anything, while we fixed our credit and Karen has had to make hard choices about her dream business or working and both. Where I have had to be honest with myself about my mental illness and chronic illness and learn to take care of myself and make hard choices about what I need and what I don’t need. We have some security but we still don’t have a lease so it isn’t solid and we don’t have many comforts that so many take for granted and some of the people we know don’t even have what we have and this breaks my heart. I haven’t figured out how to have Christmas traditions where we live, other than music and a few movies.

We are very blessed and I know this. I thank God for this always. This is my biggest prayer all the time! And I know we are very close to some of those things like a kitchen and laundry room that I always took for granted before, but never will again. When this happens, I imagine we will often have someone sleeping on our couch for a few days, or if we have a guest room, in the guest room. It is a good thing I can’t just make 1 quart of soup but always make 6 quarts of stew because I am sure we will have people over and I look forward to board games and maybe getting a dog. I don’t think Xavier will like that idea, but he has surprised me a lot this last year…so maybe that wont be as bad as I think. I look forward to foster kids or just kids…they will find us because we have a lot of love to share.

Cookies and lights can be part of every day. Movies and music can be enjoyed every day and good books and stories are important always. Karen always says we celebrate every day. We say, “I love you,” constantly. We think about each other and try to make each others burdens lighter, however we can. I guess that is Christmas all year. Although I miss having room for a Christmas tree, we have found ways to keep Christmas and maybe next year will be the best year yet! It’s OK if I am allergic to live Christmas trees…at least I am not allergic to Christmas.

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.

Xavier Rock’On

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 22, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

Merry Christmas Everyone! I hope you have everything your heart desires. To be honest I am struggling and with several triggers that I can’t really talk about so I thought I would talk about my cat Xavier (pronounced Javier) Rock’On. He is such a special animal. I am sure that your pets are special to you too. Animals are very special.

Before Xavier came to me I had a dream about a cat that looked like him and in the dream his name was Javier…I like the X better. When my, then, 7-year-old nephew came into the church sanctuary where we were with him cradled in his arms, I was sold. His mother couldn’t have him but I could. The deal was he would be mine but he would be my nephew’s too. When my, then, 4-year-old nephew came over he was sad that he did get to name the cat so I let him give him a middle name and that is where Rock’On came into the picture and it seems to fit.

Xavier has been a handful since day one. He taught me that he was a very sensitive cat and he needed peace, even when his behavior was bad. No yelling or any form of discipline really worked to train him, it only made his behavior worse. He is a biter and he has to rub is paws, either with or without his claws on walls, carpet and furniture…which helped me to have a little peace after I had his claws removed. What did work? Positive reinforcement when he was doing what I wanted and guiding the acceptable behavior.

Luckily he is terrified of heights so he only climbed the drapes a couple times and brought the Christmas tree down once…until he learned it was much better to nap under the tree when we left a space under it for him. He quit jumping on the dining room table as long as I gave him a chair next to me. He stopped climbing on the kitchen cabinets once we gave up the fight on sitting water and let the bathtub slowly drip…he will not drink sitting water…it just isn’t going to happen. He doesn’t eat stale food so I feed him 4 times a day but that also gives me time to spend with him…

In return, because most of his feeding times are times I need to take meds, so he nags me until he sees me take them. He knows when I am having a nightmare and when I am going to be sick so he wakes me up so I can take care of myself. He also knows when Karen has overslept her alarm and gets her out of bed to go to work. He knows when we should go to bed and rallies for bedtime like a Drill Sargent.

I love that he has a personal relationship with me and with Karen. I get to hold him and do all the nurturing things. Karen gets kisses and she is the fun mom that gives treats and plays with him. He doesn’t let us switch places very often. But I have been struggling a lot the last few days. He climbed into my arms and kissed me three times on the cheek. I thought, “Wow! I must be a queen today!”

I have known Xavier since he was taken from his mother and I got to box train him and been there for all his phases. He had never been an overly cuddly cat and he has a lot of boundaries. But he does like to be brushed. As he has gotten older I try really hard to brush him at least every other day because I know it is getting harder for him to reach everything. When I brush him, he tries to keep his left rear leg away from me. I think that joint hurts the most, so I am gentle when I reach around and over to try to brush it anyway, blindly. I am surprised with how cold it is, how much hair I have been removing off of him every day this week, but yesterday was his day for his flea treatment. I always brush him for as long as he will let me on that day because when he licks the solution he shows signs of an allergy to it. I have tried lots of other methods but nothing works like the topical treatment I use, and he is allergic to fleas so we soldier on and if I can brush him for 30 minutes it absorbs into his skin enough that it doesn’t bother him as much.

Yesterday he purposely stood with his left back leg faced to me and I thought that was odd. I began brushing and I noticed that all the things he usually fights me on, he wasn’t fighting me on. Until I found a mat in his fur. If he has ever, had one, I don’t remember it. I tried to brush it out but it would not budge. Eventually I grabbed some scissors and cut it out. He looked worried. He has the most expressive eyes. When I told him everything was ok and I was happy to help him, he waited and the minute it was removed, he looked to relieved.

Xavier has taught me a lot about myself. I am a sensory person too. Lights and sounds are hard for me. Too many people overwhelm me. People that take too much make me flare up and get sick. I go out of my way to protect him from stress so he doesn’t get sick..I am learning to do the same for myself. We thrive in a peaceful place with good music, thoughtful people, good books and lots of love. And it is nice to know that when we need help there is someone there to help us, whether it is to remind me to take me meds or someone to cut the mats out of our fur…

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 Hate Getting Gifts

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 17, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

Most people love getting gifts but I am not most people; I hate getting gifts. It isn’t because I don’t like people showing their love but gifts often meant something else for me growing up. Gifts were maybe the only show of affection I might get for months. It might be the only kindness I might get that day. It also might be a useless box of something I hated that I had to pretend I loved or I was a rude girl who didn’t deserve any gifts at all.

It isn’t that I wasn’t loved growing up, I just process love differently than my parents did. There were so many rules after my parents divorced. There were rules when they were married but so many more afterwards. Mom was pretty easy because she knew us. But since they didn’t follow the parenting plan and they fought and always through me I was so stressed out. Christmas wasn’t fun. Dad wanted Christmas lists and you had to have gifts of all different price ranges so he could surprise you and fill your stocking…very practical…Most of the time the stocking stuffers I got were the freebees that my dad’s wife got for buying other things and I gave them away.

You would think things would have changed when we became grown ups and to some extent they did. One of my younger siblings became the planner and I wasn’t invited until the last minute or when I called my older sibling…Somewhere in there I got in trouble for bringing gifts for people because I had ignored the no gifts for adults theme they had decided on because my father and his wife had decided to pay for dinner instead of buying gifts…yet they didn’t care that I couldn’t eat that food because of my food sensitivities and I didn’t care about their rule and laughed as they opened the gifts I either made or bought for them anyway. But I wasn’t ignored…

I have always wanted to be a mom. I still ache to be a mom. God brings me to scriptures about Abraham and Sarah so I don’t know what He has up His sleeve but I have faith in Him…but as my siblings became mothers I found it was so much more fun and easy to be an auntie then worry about trying to be part of their group. I adored my kiddos, my greatest gifts, up to that point. I listened to them and played with them. I tried to encourage them and we always talked about Jesus. I bought all of them their first bibles and was there for most of them when they asked Jesus into their hearts. My greatest joy! I wasn’t trying to be their mom, I always encouraged them to honor their parents and I had to bite my tongue or apologize at times. I am sure with the competition platform we were raised on, my siblings didn’t understand that I was on their side and I wasn’t trying to compete. Our goals were the same to see their kids grow up healthy, safe and strong.

At some point I was completely cut off. I was told by my siblings to not contact their children anymore. I had already been blocked on social media sites so I wasn’t able to see pictures anymore so this wasn’t a surprise.

I deserved some of the rebuttal I got but not the shunning I lived in.

Today I received a birthday card from my father and his wife. I wasn’t going to open it but Karen seemed expectant. All the pink. The I love you…the bullshit. The obligatory check. They love me, but they never email or send a note or a get well card. I know I told them not to call me but that is because when they call me, they yell at me, and I can’t talk on the phone anymore without an anxiety attack, unless it is to the doctor’s office or pharmacy. I loved pink when, I was little girl, but it turns my stomach now, and has since 8th grade, and if they knew anything about me, they would know that…but they don’t know me.

I mailed it back. The check. I don’t want it. I never wanted their money or their things. I just wanted someone to want to know me. I wanted someone to want to see me or talk to me. For years that is the present I wanted. That is still the gift I want.

I like relationship. It is always the right size and color. It is never out of fashion and if it is cared for it doesn’t go bad…but if you don’t care for it….

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.

Happy Dysfunctional Holidays

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 16, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers, Thanksgiving

We are accustomed to hearing Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzah…and many other holidays this time of year but I would like to wish many of you a Happy Dysfunctional Holidays! Let’s be real, this time of year is far from perfect for many of us. I am not saying I have never had a beautiful memory…like this time I was staying at my aunt and uncle’s house, when I was in high school and everyone was happy, there was no stress and we got a VCR! To top it off it began to snow just as we finished opening presents…

Generally for me the holidays were filled with more than less than perfect moments with divorced parents who never followed the parenting plan and fought constantly, before, during and after the event, through me…I am going to stop there because my stomach is starting to churn.

I had a dream the other night about an old relationship that was not healthy. My friend was a roommate and I loved him a lot but he was a drug addict and he couldn’t keep a job and he was emotionally manipulative. Towards the end of our friendship, I had given everything I had, even our rent money, which instead of giving to the manager, he spent on partying and we were being evicted. These were not the best parts of our relationship; the parts that kept me around. You don’t love someone for a person’s worst parts. Children and animals loved him. He could walk into any group and have a great conversation. He was very intelligent and he taught me a lot of important things. But he was an addict. In the dream I was very aware of this but I had found this one pair of socks that were very beautiful and I wanted to keep them to remember the parts I loved. The rest could go.

I am currently reading a book that I am glad that I didn’t buy and that the library had on hand: Nigger: The Strange Career of a Troublesome Word by Randall Kennedy. It is an emotionally draining book about a word that is considered a fighting word. I bet by the end I will have the same feeling that I have had on every page I have had as I read the first half of the book…I didn’t need to read this book to know that Nigger is life-sucking word.

You know what word can also be a life-sucking word: Family. To let me be more clear it is the two letter phrase: Dysfunctional Family that is life-sucking because the word family can be life-giving, affirming and foundational in so many wonderful ways. My current family which includes, my wife, Karen G Clemenson, our cat, Xavier, and my sister, Jamie Holloway, is amazing. We are honest with each other. We care for each other and share what we have. We are not afraid to talk about anything and even though at times we may have lied, betrayed and hurt each other, we have been able to work through those times and become stronger and more gentle with each other. That is the life-giving part; the brave part.

But in a dysfunctional family secrets, gossip, abuse and running away is what runs the show. This is why when we grow up we seek out abusive relationships, because that is what we know.

I had a dream about a life-long friend last night that kept interrupting me and was trying to needle their way into my life again, after they had dumped me, again. They had been done this many times through our life. The last time they told me they didn’t want to know me. This time I was going to remember this because I had moved beyond the need to be rejected. So in my dream I told them to please move on because I knew they didn’t want to know me and the dream was over.

What if it was that easy with family?

My quiet moments when I am not filling my time, are filled with memories I haven’t thought about in years. Sad times. Angry times. Confusing times. I know that at least one of my family members wants to reconnect. When I get sick of the memories I pray to God and ask Him to bless these people and me, where we are, and please let us all have a good night’s sleep. It has been working for me. But then they start when I am awake…until this morning, I had a memory over another breakup. When I had realized that this relationship was also abusive, I had said I would rather be alone than be emotionally abused.

So that is the answer.

The plus side is that I am not alone. I have Karen, Xavier and Jamie. There are some other casual friends and the ones I haven’t met yet…and God has always been my real parents. He taught me lots of things when I was alone….and I was alone a lot.

I know this may seem cold but it is actually really brave. There are people I didn’t want to lose that I have lost. Sometimes I feel like part of me is gone but then maybe she wasn’t the best part of me. It is brave to say, “Here and no further,” to someone that has had many opportunities to know you and yet doesn’t want to. They have been invited and didn’t show up. They have been called and didn’t answer or call back. They have made plans only to cancel. It is ok to finally realize who is your real family.

Once you do that you might be stuck with some memories that are painful but just keep giving them back to God and thank Him for the “socks”. Merry Christmas.

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.

Book Review: The Mistress of Spices by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 15, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Opinions

Tilo is the Mistress of Spices. She currently resides in Oakland, California where she sells grocery items and spices, some meant to cure people’s troubles. Her Teacher knew she was too rebellious and independent to be a perfect Mistress but she let her take her place and make her choice.

She was not to leave her store.
Se was not to touch anyone or let them touch her.
She was not to care to much or too little, but the same for everyone in her store.
She must only serve others, never herself.

Her Teacher told her that must only let the spices lead her and if she worries beyond the walls of her store she will become overwhelmed. At night she can listen to the wishes of her customers:

I found The Mistress of Spices by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni while looking for other books at the library and it called to me. This story reminds me a little of The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner in that the spices had a magic and a cost to those who used it. The Mistress is able to help people but she has trouble living with the consequences and the customer’s choices so she begins to break the rules and in the end she must make a big choice about her own life.

I found this story to be refreshing and I couldn’t put this book down.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of The Mistress of Spices by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

The Mistress of Spices by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I found this book by accident at the library…but maybe there are no accidents. I loved this book. It was full of imagination, culture, hope, sadness and any number of emotions. I could not put this book down.

View all my reviews

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.

Holiday Peace and Joy

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 14, 2022 | Essential Oils, Life, Marketing, Opinions

Merry Christmas! I wish you Holiday Peace and Joy at this beautiful time of year that is celebrated for many reasons by many types of people and religions and I hope you all feel blessed.

I want to tell you a cute story about my cat. I have been using Certified Pure Grade Essential Oils for 11 years and I am not sure how many times I have been asked if they are safe for cats but, as a person who has been learning as I went, so has my cat. Xavier (pronounced Javier) is very much like his particular and opinionated mommy. He likes things the way he likes them and when Xavier is not happy, no one is happy. I am used to getting up at least once in the night to give him his 5 am feeding (he has IBS and is a compulsive eater) and love on him which is just as important for my anxious little guy. We play music at night because Xavier demands it but he has also grown accustomed to the diffuser.

The other night was not like other nights: We had cuddled. He had been fed. I made sure the bathtub was slowly dripping (he wont drink sitting water). The music was still playing and I was trying to separate myself to go back to bed but Xavier would not have it. He sat on the floor looking at me and grunting until I realized that the diffuser had gone dry.

After I was done laughing; I mean what else can you do? I refilled the defuser and put On Guard in it…that is his favorite oil. How do I know? He will lay on the floor beneath the diffuser for a bit and then run around the room and play and then come back to the diffuser and take a nap…

So the main rule is that the cat needs to be able to get away from the oil. Don’t apply oils to the cat directly or give them to the cat internally. Wash your hands after you have been working with oils to keep them from licking the oils off your hands. Cats have very different metabolisms than humans do and ingesting certain oils can be lethal. But diffusing is the safest way to use oils around cats because they are diluted by the water.

Now back to Holiday Peace and Holiday Joy…These are seasonal oils that doTERRA puts out and they are lovely. Here is my trick. I have never made a point of buying both of them until this year and when I got them I tried them in the diffuser individually and thought they were lovely but what I really enjoyed was putting them together with a little Peppermint…that was the Golden Ticket. Talk about smelling the holidays! I highly suggest this combination!

If you have any questions about Certified Pure Grade Essential Oils please Contact Me.

From my family to yours, we hope that you are blessing during this season.

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.

Book Review: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 13, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Life, Opinions

The first time I read Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, I was about 9-years-old. I was visiting my aunt and uncle in Massachusetts and I had brought it along with me. It was a book that my grandmother had bought for my mother and aunt when they were girls. It was the first real chapter book I had really read. I was so excited after I had finished this book the first time that I also read Jack and Jill, also by Louisa May Alcott and a 500 page book about Helen Keller (I don’t remember the name of it), all in a months time. I had been bit by the book bug.

I think it helped that my aunt took my cousins and I to the library every week and we had times where we just looked at books. We had books at my house and like my aunt’s house, we had a big book shelf full of books and baskets with books in them and my mother read to us, but I think the library was the clincher for me. That magical place with so many books. It feels like magic in there for me. I feel excited in a library or a good book store.

I have tried to read this book again but I had trouble getting into it at different times. I don’t have that original copy with me at this time so I tried to download it onto my Kindle, but I have decided I hate reading on my Kindle. It hurts my wrists to hold it up and I don’t want to spend money to find a better case so it is just gathering dust until I decide what to do with it. I like to read real books so after reading The Reading List I was inspired to give Little Women another go and found it at my local library.

I am convinced that the copy of Little Women, that I read 37 years ago, was a condensed copy. First, it was much smaller than this huge book sitting next to me with 520 pages in it. Second, even with accounting for some of my memories being washed away by the many movie versions of this book that I have seen, there are so many details about the characters that I can’t recall at all. Both of these details make me glad that I checked this book out at the library.

That summer I visited in Massachusetts wasn’t just special because I got bit by the reading bug…and many bugs…it is very humid there…but we also went to see The Concord House where the Alcott Family lived. It was very special to see the drawings on the walls, the stories written by Alcott, the music sheets, needlepoint and other arts that that the Alcott Family all created. It made the book come alive to me. I thought about that several times as I read about their adventures.

I loved the intimacy they all held for each other. I love how Alcott took time to develop each character in a specific and loving way. The book was written during the Civil War, yet she doesn’t develop which war it is, just how important it is to support our troops, with all we have. There is gossip of bias between well-off British and United States citizens and the March girls just don’t entertain those thoughts, they just keep moving forward because they don’t have time for such folly. Each disagreement is brought back around to the well-being of their sister or friend in such a generous way, it was so refreshing to read this especially near Christmas time, this may be a book I read again near Christmas more frequently. I believe this book has blessings for anyone who reads it.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of Little Women by Louisa May Alcott on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I first read this book when I was 9-years-old and 37 years later it still amazing!

View all my reviews

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.

Book Review: There There a Novel by Tommy Orange

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 12, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Opinions

Among the brokenness, addiction and poverty there sings a sings a song of strength, family and power on every page of There There a Novel by Tommy Orange. I am glad I found this book as I wandered the isles of the library. The stories of 12 Native American people as they traveled through life with little to anchor them were both sad and yet they kept moving forward.

This book left me feeling a lot. I could not bring myself to take notes but just absorb the pain of each character as they went through life disconnected from their past and the legacy of their people, not knowing who was safe to trust or not. I was saddened and reminded of the fact that Black people were just as scared of medical professionals when it came to serious medical conditions because of atrocities that were done against them, as characters in the book let cancer take them without treatment.

In the end, confused children brought the story to a sad end, yet in some way family still prevailed, whether they knew it or not. This book was a powerful read.

I got this book at the Longview Public Library. You can get your own copy of There There a Novel by Tommy Orange on Amazon.

Read My Review on GoodReads:

There There by Tommy Orange
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book really pulled at my heart. Tommy Orange successfully created characters that I could believe and love. I could feel their pain and confusion at times, but always their strength.

View all my reviews

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.

Her Name is Anna

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 8, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I met her in my twenties, when I began really digging to try to find freedom from what was wrong with me mentally and spiritually. I had read somewhere about asking this part of yourself that seemed to be its own personality, questions and having it answer with your non-dominate writing hand. She told me her name is Anna. She was very angry and scared and she wasn’t going anywhere. She told me she was 5-years-old.

A lot happened when I was 5-years-old: I met Jesus, my grammy (great-grandmother and favorite person) died, I started first grade, and my mother became pregnant with my youngest sibling. There is probably more but that is the big stuff and those are just the main details; each of those events having their own events to go with them.

I don’t think that Anna is only 5. I think she ranges in age from 5 through teenage years. I think this because of what she seems to do. I have spent a lot of time trying to get rid of her, trying to understand her and now trying to learn to live with her because she wont leave, she wont grow up and she wont give up her job. Anna’s job is to hold my emotions and my most painful and scary memories from growing up.

Unlike Veda, which I named, hoping I could control and seem to see leave more quickly. Veda is mainly depression and she doesn’t live here. She visits. Anna lives here and she waits quietly until she is reminded of a situation that is too similar to ones she has lived through before. She screams and cries in my head when she is upset, which is very distracting. She invites Veda. She also brings nightmares since she lives in my subconscious.

Often I am able to parent Anna, reminding her that we are here now. That we are safe, I can create boundaries and that the people that have hurt us or misunderstood us are no longer in our life, are not here, and they wont be able to hurt us anymore. She usually calms down in a few days but the time she is active is very blue for me.

This is the hard part of the year for me and Anna is more active and I had a family member reach out to me. They were kind and hopeful. I asked them to pray for me. They are hopeful for a relationship. I did not promise anything because I can’t. But Anna is terrified of them and 3 other people they are connected to either directly or indirectly. It has been an emotionally painful few days which leads to more physical pain…

I always try to find something positive in my situations so I decided to look up the meanings of the names that came to me for these parts of myself. Veda means wisdom in Sanskrit and is popular among followers of Hinduism. Anna is widely used among many countries but is found in the Latin meaning grace. I don’t feel as though I purposely chose these names because I remember when they came to me and it was very impromptu. But what I find fascinating is that wisdom and grace are the things I am always asking God for.

Depression often comes when we have been trying to carry something on our own, so it would make sense that I would need to rest and realign where my strength is found and this takes wisdom. Although Anna makes my life frustrating she does cause me to ask God for more grace because it isn’t her fault that she was emotionally neglected and abused.

When I think of relationship with family members I really don’t know what that looks like. For years I tried to engage but I am very different. I am very sensitive in every way: lights, sounds, foods, emotions, manners. I don’t care for current pop culture, and really never have. I hate gossip and prefer to hear about people from themselves and never from anyone else. I don’t care for TV. Because of all these other things I don’t do small talk well. I like to dive into deep conversations and debates. I am not a surface person. Groups are stressful to me because I like to give my attention to 1-3 people exclusively. Because I was often left to myself growing up and I love children because they have no agenda other than to be loved and heard, I find myself getting in trouble with parents because I listen to their children and then tell them things they missed.

I have been told I am hard to please but actually I am super easy. I don’t care about fancy things and money is useful but I don’t care about it either. I like time and conversation. I like people showing up or returning my cards and letters or calls. I love authenticity and honesty. I have been criticized and left behind (rejected) so much by all of them that I don’t see any reason to try to add them into my life. I am not going to stop being fat any time soon, or opinionated and Anna is not going to change, she has made this abundantly clear. So even though all the children have grown up, the advice I gave is still being held against me, according to the last conversation I put myself through. Right now I am parenting Anna. She needs to know that I hear her. She needs to know that I have her back and we will proceed with caution in whatever direction we go in.

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.

Book Review: The Good Neighbor The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 2, 2022 | Book & Product Reviews, Opinions

When I was growing up one of the very few shows my mother allowed me to watch was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood and I watched it every chance I got, even through high school. Mr. Roger’s slow speech and gentle way of explaining things was a welcome change of the world around me that seemed to go too fast. It is refreshing to know that Mr. Rogers was naturally like himself but that he also took the time to train himself to speak to children at their level. I know he was a kindred spirit to myself and many, as we can learn, in great detail in The Good Neighbor The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King.

Fred McFeely Rogers was born on March 20, 1928 at his maternal grandparent’s home. He was raised in Latrobe, Pennsylvania. His mother’s delivery was very difficult and her doctor advised Roger’s parents against another pregnancy. Roger’s parents took this advice and when he was 11-years-old, his parents adopted his sister, Nancy Elaine Rogers (Crozier), who they called Laney.

Roger’s family had a hand in building much of the wealth in their community. Whey they were not working, they were volunteering, helping with fundraisers and writing checks or sending food baskets to families that needed help. Although they were well-off they were not pretentious.

Rogers had a very sheltered life from his over-protective mother, which only encouraged his naturally withdrawn nature. His family was devoted to faith, hard work and philanthropy and these thing were important to Rogers as well. Although he had trouble fitting in with his peers. He enjoyed reading, listening to music, puppetry, artistry and practicing his love for the piano. Even as a child he would perform puppet shows for his friends and he would pay close attention to see what they enjoyed most.

Faith, independence and music had helped Rogers develop his creative and artistic personality.

Rogers was so excited about television as it came to fruition. He saw it as an amazing medium for education. He saw it as a great way to engage children in a positive way. That is what he hoped it would be, until it became a tool for selling.

In 1953 Rogers got an opportunity to be on the ground floor of educational television on public television back in his home town. So he and his wife moved to Pittsburgh. Although he enjoyed his work at NBC, his only way up now was to become an executive and he knew he wanted to remain creative.

While working on the public television show, The Children’s Corner, Rogers remained devoted to becoming a minister. In 1955 he began studying, part-time at seminary while he continued to work.

Rogers and his wife welcomed their first son, Jim in 1959, Their second son, John was born in 1961.

Rogers earned his Master of Divinity, Magna Cum Laude, after 8 years of study in 1963. During the time he was studying for seminary, Rogers was also studying child development under the tutelage of Dr. Margaret McFarland at the Arsenal Family and Children’s Center in preparation to combine Roger’s love for children and ministry to create Mister Roger’s Neighborhood.

Rogers went to Canada and with the help of Fred Rainsberry, a well-connected television executive, that believed, as Rogers, that children should not be sold to, they created Misterogers. The show was 15 minutes long and showed daily from 1963 to 1967 nationally. Many of our favorite things about Mister Roger’s Neighborhood were part of MIsterogers.

When it was time to create Mister Roger’s Neighborhood, Rogers based it on his hometown, which he loved. Joseph Horne of Joseph Horne Department Store was the first advertiser. Rogers stood strong with his belief that children should not be sold to. The department store was listed at the beginning and the end of each 15 minute show as the sponsor. The store saw a noticeable growth. When the contract of 13 episodes was over, Rogers had to find more funding. With the help of many friends, including crowds of parents and children, sponsors were found, including Sears Roebuck Foundation.

1968 was the first year for Mister Rogers Neighborhood and Rogers knew exactly what he wanted. He knew children learned best in a blend of reality and make believe and that is what he gave them. He encouraged his musicians to play musically complex songs, as they would for adults. Other musicians knew his show was the “hippest” music of the day.

Rogers was always fighting for quality children’s television. In 1969 he spoke before the Senate Sub-Committee on Communications to share his belief in the importance of Public Television and his words kept the funding in place. The recorded works of his speech were used again in 2017 when the funds for Public Television were on the chopping block again.

In an interview between King and Roger’s oldest son we can learn: “Whatever his personal foibles, Jim Rogers observes, his father had only one real touchstone: ‘Being who you are was so important to him that the only thing that would really upset him was phoniness. As long as I was being genuine, honest, he respected that.’ He adds: ‘I think all Dad really ever wanted for John or me was to be happy and pleased with who we are.’” Chapter 9

Mister Roger’s Neighborhood won 4 Emmys. Roger’s won a Lifetime Achievement Award in 1997.

I was almost overwhelmed with the amount of information available in this book but I learned a lot about Mr. Rogers from The Good Neighbor The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King. I am glad I read it. I had many memories of watching his show that brought back good feelings for me. Mr. Rogers truly made an impact on my life and he still does. I highly recommend this book.

I got this book from the Longview Public Library you can get your own copy of The Good Neighbor The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King on Amazon.

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The Good Neighbor: The Life and Work of Fred Rogers by Maxwell King
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book was not a light read. I learned more than I expected about Mister Rogers and even myself. He is still one of my favorite icons and probably always will be, for good reason. He was exactly who you saw. He was authentic always and loved always. His life’s work was to reach children, to teach them to understand their feelings and express them in safe ways and to always be curious. He was not a simple man but in the world he created in Mister Roger’s Neighborhood any problem that could be talked about could be managed and that made it more simple.

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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.

Sometimes Trust Can’t be Fixed

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 1, 2022 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I told my therapist, yesterday, that I am sure I have forgiven several people in my life completely. The part I am struggling with is that you can forgive someone, let’s call them “Person A,” so many times and then it becomes apparent that they are not a safe person for you to be around because they keep hurting you so you are forced to create a boundary that says Person A can’t be in my life. The really hard part is that because of the dynamics of a particular group of people, you now have to remove yourself from the group of people because the relationship between Person A and you and everyone in the group doesn’t let you just remove one person.

I would love to try to have a relationship with Person B and Person C but they are too close to Person A and Person B is married to Person D and I don’t feel safe around them either. There are more variables but that is too many letters and we will both get confused. It is just easier to stay away but it does make me sad; sometimes it makes me angry.

People say: Oh well, it is the holidays! or Oh well, it is family, get over it!

My therapist said that trust is a hard thing to fix. I told her that I realized that I don’t trust women because the closest ones to me were manipulative towards me. She asked me how that manifests in my life. I said I have 2 close friends and I am married to one of them.

We agreed that it must take a lot for me to allow someone to really get close to me.

Am I writing this so I can whine and complain? No. I am writing this to encourage anyone that has been hurt that it is ok to look at your wounds and realize truths so you can work on them. I am talking to God and my therapist about my concerns. I am creating healthy boundaries for my mental health. I am continuing to affirm my value and maintain my self-care.

Some relationships can’t be fixed, but the relationship with myself can be.

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.

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