My Memory List

Bloganuary: Jan. 9, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What do people incorrectly assume about you?

I pride myself of living openly and as authentically as I’m capable. To that end, I’d like to think that people don’t really have to make assumptions about me.

I hope that people know where I stand on topics, even those that are considered controversial. I hope that people see me as approachable, that I eagerly welcome discussion, and that I’m not afraid to admit when I’m wrong.

Perhaps I’m thinking too deeply about this question. Maybe the answer isn’t as profound I’m trying to make it out to be.

Honestly, I think the most prevalent assumption people make about me is that I’m a man. And, oh boy, does that presumption show up most frequently when I walk into a women’s restroom!

When I was about 8 years old, I made the mistake of walking into the wrong public bathroom. Once. One lapse of focus. That’s all it took. The overpowering smell of urine clued me into my misstep even before I saw the wall of urinals. I made a promise to myself that day, that I would never, ever not pay attention again when nature called in public.

Before I open the door to a public bathroom, I double-check, no triple-check, the sign to make sure I’m going into the right place. So, I find it ironic when I get informed that, whoa, I’m in the women’s restroom.

No need to fear. Lesbians are women, too 😉

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 8, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What do you like most about your writing?

Oh, goodness! What I like most? There’s a lot I like about my writing.

Well, first off, I like my conversational style. This blog started because I was talking to friends about the homework my therapist gave me – to make a list of memories I wanted to have – and then telling the stories of how I was doing those things to actually make the memories.

When I write, I write as if I’m talking to friends. Which, I am. I like thinking that when you’re reading this – yes, YOU! – you’re able to hear my voice, my inflection, my tone. I like to use punctuation liberally, so you can hear when I pause in my storytelling.

And I like to start sentences with words I was taught not to use, such as “and” and “but”. But, I digress. (See what I did there?)

I also like hearing from people that what I’m doing with my Memory List is inspiring to them. That it’s helping them to create their own lists, and live their lives more intentionally to accomplish things, big and small, that they want to have done. This has happened more, now that I’m able to reach a larger audience.

At the end of the day, my writing is a by-product of my journey of self-discovery. It’s documentation and proof that I’m doing the very best I can to live my life for me. And that, that confirmation, above all else, is what I cherish most.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 7, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What makes you laugh?

In order to answer this question, I feel the need to time travel. Travel back to a time when I didn’t feel the looming dark cloud that has been hanging over me of late.

Since Christmas, I’ve been battling a strong case of homesickness. Since New Year’s, I’ve had to let go of a dream I had been entertaining for months. And just yesterday, I learned that my clown friend with cancer, Helen, passed away.

Crying seems to be my default physical response to emotions. Laughter feels out of reach, at least for right now.

So, I’ll make a withdrawal from my memory bank to recall the things that make me laugh…

Toilet humor, and anything fart-related.
A pun, that’s so bad it’s good.
When someone makes the same witty remark I have in my head, a split second before I’m able to say it aloud.
A conversation with my brother; it doesn’t matter what it’s about, we’re destined to have a good laugh at least once.
Watching people trip or slip, but recover in time so as not to fall and/or hurt themselves.

So, dear reader, I make this an open call to you. Perhaps it’s even a request. If you have a pun or a joke you’d like to share, especially if it makes you groan, I’ll be grateful if you leave it in the comments ❤

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 6, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

Who is someone that inspires you and why?

I don’t feel like writing today. I’m sad, I’m lonely, and I’m grieving. I certainly don’t feel inspired.

But, in contemplating the question of who would be able to inspire me today, the first person that comes to mind is my mom.

When she was 10, she lost her left arm to a very aggressive cancer. By the time I came along, my mom had figured out how to live life perfectly fine without it. As with everything in life, we adapt. She told me that I quickly learned how to cling to her, like a monkey, when she rested me on my her hip and carried groceries in from the car.

My brother and I would pretend sometimes that our left arm was unusable, and we would try to tackle our mundane, everyday activities. Most things were frustratingly difficult, although eventually doable. But undoing the button on my jeans, if I had to pee, that was a blatant impossibility.

One of the aspects I admire the most about my mom is that she’s never lost her sense of humor. We like to joke that even though she may not accomplish things on her own, she does everything single-handedly. Or every time I come to visit, she welcomes me with open arm.

To live life, even in the face of adversity and pain, and be able to laugh and love fully, is inspiring. So today, perhaps a bit more than most days, I think of my mom and I’m inspired.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 5, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What is something you wish you knew how to do?

Had I been asked this question as soon as yesterday, my answer likely would have been play the guitar with the ability to pick melodies, as opposed to simply strumming. Or speak any language I want fluently after only a few weeks of trying. Or be able to hit a home run over the fence.

But I received some tough news this morning, and all those answers seem so superficial and trite.

Over a decade ago, when I lived in Toronto, I took a Discover Your Clown workshop because my brother had taken it and absolutely loved it. He wouldn’t stop talking about it, and thought that I would enjoy it and get a lot out of it.

I had falsely assumed that I would be learning how to walk in massive shoes, while wearing a rainbow wig, and a face painted obnoxiously. I was extremely skeptical, and had extraordinarily low expectations. But, holy shit, was I wrong. That workshop changed my life.

Helen, the teacher of that workshop, not only helped me discover my clown, but she helped me uncover an unadulterated joy for life. In one particular class, I experienced vulnerability the likes I had never thought possible. And surviving that has given me the sustained strength to survive anything and everything that life throws at me.

One of the pillars of red-nose clowning is to find the joy in all emotions. A skilled clown will keep their audience safe (and giggling), while dealing with heavy emotions such as sadness, fear, and grief. No topic is taboo. Everything — good and bad — is a part of life, and there is inherent joy and love in it all.

This morning, I learned that Helen will stop fighting the cancer that she’s been forced to live with for the past 2.5 years. Tears flood my eyes, making it hard to see the words I’m typing right now. Her impact on my life has been, and will continue to be, profound. I’m so grateful for the lessons I learned while under her tutelage. The pain I feel this morning is a testament to the extreme joy she has cultivated in this world.

To answer the question of what I wish I knew how to do, it’s so clear to me today: I wish I knew how to cure cancer.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 4, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What was your favorite toy as a child?

This question has rocketed me back to my childhood, and my mind is racing with all the things I used to play with. And it’s an incredible trip down memory lane.

I see Frosty, my white teddy bear with rainbow-colored paws, who’s missing his nose because my first dog, Winston, thought it was a chew toy. I remember the game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos that was soooo loud. Oh, and the simple tennis ball that I would toss up the stairs and be the best hockey goalie this world has ever seen, as it bounced its way back down.

There was this electronic baseball game that was a series of dotted, red lights, on which I used up a number of batteries over the years. Then there was the pogo ball, and I’m still amazed I never twisted an ankle jumping on that. And there was my little, blue bicycle that rode like a dream.

Would a game console count as a toy? If so, that Christmas I unwrapped an original Nintendo Entertainment System led to a countless amount of enjoyment all the way to my university days. Who am I kidding? If it still worked, I’d likely still be playing Tetris at least once a week.

I played a lot of sports as a kid. You name it, I probably played it. Softball, hockey, basketball, volleyball, badminton, track & field, bowling, and more. With that said, it doesn’t surprise me that the toy that brings up memories of the most joy was the over-the-door basketball net. I could sit on my bedroom floor for hours, trying to improve upon my longest shot streak, cooking up incredible bank shots off the side wall, and seeing how far back I could make a basket.

I think I need more toys in my life again.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 3, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

Write about the last time you left your comfort zone.

It may sound cliché, but it was yesterday evening. And all I did was try to meditate.

I hate to admit it, but the seemingly simple act of sitting with myself, intentionally attempting to remain undistracted by anything external, is excruciatingly hard for me. I hate it. So, it makes sense that I’ve got a strong habit formed to do everything in my power to avoid doing it. But I also know that growth only happens when I try things that are unfamiliar.

The past couple weeks have been really hard. I realized on Christmas Day that I wished I could have been spending the holiday with them, but it was too late to make those plans. Traveling last-minute up to Canada during yet another surge in the pandemic would be a headache and stressful. Although I was invited to spend Christmas with a dear friend and her family, it wasn’t the same, and loneliness gripped me.

That loneliness has yet to let go of its hold. And it sucks.

My comfort zone has been sitting on that couch, scrolling mindlessly through social media, with whatever’s on TV. So, sitting still for those drawn-out 18 minutes of a guided meditation last night, deliberately being alone in my loneliness, was the most uncomfortable I’ve felt in a long, long time.

And, yeah, I’m going to try to do it again today. Because if I get comfortable with being alone, with being with me, I know that I’ll be happier in the long run. But, holy shit! It’s hard.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 2, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s Prompt:

What is a road trip you would love to take?

Last summer, I drove from the Tampa Bay area up to Toronto. My dog, Toby, was a silent passenger in the back seat for the vast majority of the 22 hours of driving, tackled over 2 days. I only stopped for gas, bathroom breaks, and walks to ensure I got my daily steps. I was only driving to get to my destination; there was no journey.

In my mind, a true road trip is one in which the driving is the objective. Perhaps there isn’t even a final destination in mind, but rather, checkpoints along the road that become the highlights of it all. Music belts out of the car speakers, creating a wonderful soundtrack for the trip. And there are at least 2 people to share in the experiences… and the driving.

When I think back on my life so far, I’m grateful to have many memories of different road trips I’ve taken. I’ve witnessed moose during my drive around Newfoundland, seen the most beautiful scenery through the fjords of Norway, and survived the steep, hairpin turns crossing the Slovenian Alps. I was a passenger along the awe-inspiring Friendship Highway of Tibet, I’ve seen the gorgeous coastline of Highway 1 in California, and took in breathtaking vistas in Croatia, Montenegro, and Serbia.

My ex-wife has a passion for travel. I often felt that I got dragged along on all her journeys. Traveling is stressful for me. Primarily because I suffer from all types of travel-related sickness. I’ve tossed my cookies in planes, boats, and cars. I’m also apparently sensitive to altitude, so that overnight at Everest Base Camp was a struggle.

I suppose that explains why I just want to get where I’m going as quickly as possible, so the chances of losing my lunch drops drastically. I like being in new places, but actually traveling to them is exhausting.

That’s why I’m having trouble answering today’s prompt. What stops along the way would make the whole road trip worth it to me? What checkpoints would be so enjoyable, that I’m willing to risk my stomach doing somersaults? Goodness, I already feel the stress of the trip.

But in letting go of all that yuck, and instead focusing on the exquisite landscape I would absolutely love to see on a road trip, it’s a toss-up between two: the Icefields Parkway between Banff and Jasper in Alberta; and driving all around Kauai, Hawaii.

I’ll admit it… I can feel the travel bug starting to nibble again.

Follow along and make memories.

Bloganuary: Jan. 1, 2022

For the month of January, I’m participating in Bloganuary, a daily blogging challenge.

Today’s prompt:

What advice would you give to your teenage self?

Funny. The first thing that comes to mind is get a better haircut. All I can think of is how much I hate looking at my awkwardness in photos from when I was a teenager. But I want to go deeper than that with this answer.

I was in 10th grade when I first had a crush on a girl. Heck! It was the first time I had had a crush on anyone before. I hadn’t grown up indoctrinated that homosexuality was wrong in any way, which I’ll happily accept as a blessing. I was simply non-judgmentally aware, and extremely curious, of my feelings for my Burger King colleague.

I hadn’t thought to put any sort of label on how I was feeling. After all, who isn’t caught up in their head and body going through puberty?? I only learned of lesbianism when it was a topic during an episode of the Sunday Night Sex Show, a live, call-in TV program, where the host – Sue Johanson – answered all types of sex-related questions.

I don’t remember the exact question the caller female asked, but it would have been something along the lines of her being attracted to another woman. Sue’s words, in response to that question, echoed in my brain for the next 4 years: “It’s a phase that everyone goes through. It’s completely normal.”

I spent the rest of my high school career leaning on that advice like it was impenetrable truth. I was normal to have a crush on a girl, but it wasn’t permanent. I was going through a phase, and eventually, I would come out the other end of it, and then I’d be attracted to boys.

It took me until my freshman year of college to truly come out. It was like a light switch flipped in my brain, when I noticed how differently all my female dorm residents talked about boys and sex. I realized in an instant that it wasn’t a phase. I was, and will always be, attracted to women.

If I could go back in time and meet my teenage self, I would find her in grade 10 and let her know that the crush I have on that girl is normal, and beautiful, and part of what makes me me. My advice to her would be to revel in that truth, and not discard it as temporary.

Follow along and make memories.

Decorating my very own Christmas tree.

I have extremely fond memories of Christmas when I was a kid. We’d chop down a tree that first weekend in December, and decorate it when we got home. On Christmas morning, a roaring would be lit, we’d all sit around the tree, and I got to wear the Santa hat, being the elf of the family to distribute all the presents to their respective recipients. When we had unwrapped all our gifts, we’d have a delicious breakfast of french toast.

I love everything about Christmas, but I stopped celebrating it 16 years ago. I can now see I did that because of codependency. My ex-wife never wanted to get into the spirit of the season. She used to joke that she was like the Grinch or Scrooge. I convinced myself it wasn’t that big of a deal to let go of the holiday; I see now it was a coping strategy, a preventative measure from getting hurt.

Last year, it was my first Christmas after leaving my marriage. It was also when I realized that not celebrating Christmas was a habit, and not what I wanted. But I discovered that about myself on the morning of December 25th, looking around my living room and wishing I had a decorated tree. That’s the moment I decided 2021 was going to be different.