Emotional StraitJacket

Do you remember, 15 or 20 years ago, there was a big hullabaloo about EQ, emotional quotient, as opposed to IQ?
I have to say that if I took an EQ test, I would probably score very low. I have the hardest time understanding my own emotions.
Last week, I wrote about my "denial" of all the trials going on in my life and on Saturday morning, I posted and said I was in a very low place. I'm so out of touch with my emotions, that I couldn't figure out how I got to that low spot.
Okay, learning that my job is cutting back, then Grace crashing the car in the garage and my dad having a triple bypass all were valid reasons for me to feel down. But on Thursday, even as I knew everything would turn out okay, my mood plummeted and I couldn't figure out why.
Finally, mid-morning Saturday, it dawned on me.
Thursday morning, my husband and oldest son had a conversation about a concert he was attending that night. My husband asked where it was and Spencer replied, "At the Newport."
"That place is a tinder box," my husband replied.
"Yeah, it's pretty gross. But fun," Spencer agreed.
That afternoon, my mom posted a photo of my sister-in-law visiting my dad at the hospital. I wanted to visit my dad, but, with two kids in college, we didn't have enough money for me to fly down and visit. I love my sister-in-law (actually ex-sister-in-law) and I'm glad she was there, but I was so sad that at my age, I didn't have the extra money to fly down and be with my parents.
So I slogged through Thursday and Friday then Saturday morning feeling very depressed. --
I was sitting in the sun in the backyard, listening to the band playing as they marched in the Memorial Day parade when it hit me -- Memorial Day.
Memorial Day Weekend. The weekend my sister died 36 years ago. In a fire at a nightclub.
The innocuous conversation about the concert Spencer was going to suddenly made sense.
And understanding why my mood had plummeted helped me climb out of that sad place.
I think I probably feel like this every Memorial Day weekend, but I'm so out of touch with my emotions that I don't even realize it. I always need a light bulb moment.
So next year around this time, will one of you fabulous readers please remind me. It's okay. I'll get through it if I can just remember that it will pass.

Dreaming of France -- Memorial Day Commemoration

Please join this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.
Maybe we can all satisfy our yearnings for France, until we get there again.
Since we're celebrating Memorial Day here in the United States, I'm posting a couple of pictures from Normandy Beaches that Tucker took during his trip in April. The first one is a panoramic view so if you click on it you should get the full impact.

 They visited a cemetery and memorials to the servicemen who died there.

 This cemetery full of crosses is so sad. I just imagine all of the youth and vigor of the men who poured out onto those beaches, so many of them never saw their sacrifice pay off.

 

But our life today, our Memorial Day Sales, and picnics and bicycle rides are all thanks to what they and their families gave up.

My novel The Summer of France includes one of those American World War II soldiers who never returned because he fell in love with a French woman. Summer is a perfect time to pick it up if you haven't yet. It's in paperback for $14 or on Kindle for $3.99.

Memorial Day

Our town has a Memorial Day parade on the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend. Caroline came to visit for her first parade of the season. She's old enough to enjoy parades now and wasn't spooked by the blaring sirens or the revving of the classic cars.

Caroline loved those flags. She waved them throughout the parade, not even releasing them to grab the candy thrown by the passing floats.
This Memorial Day, I need to add the name of my Uncle Don to those who fought for our country and have passed on. He served in the Navy during the Korean War, even though someone else took his swimming test for him. Uncle Don died this year. Thanks to him and all the veterans, along with the active members of the military.

Turbulent Run

Today is Memorial Day in the United States. That's a day when we're supposed to honor people who served in the military, but mostly we have cook outs and sales in stores.
I slept in (for me) and got up to read the newspaper on the front porch. Then I dressed for my morning run. The wind had picked up a little by then and the leaves were whispering as if they were already falling raindrops. I shook Earl awake and asked if he'd put the top up on the convertible. It's a two-person job now that the motor has burned out on the convertible top. He said he had and rolled over to go back to sleep.
I headed out into the humid morning to enjoy the breezes sweeping along. I'd run more than a mile and a half before the first raindrops struck me. I'd been hearing a sound that could have been far away thunder or might have been an airplane or loud truck. Who was I to judge?
I was just coming out of a cul de sac that I run for an extra half mile when the sky opened and the rain fell in torrents. Still, a little rain is no big deal. I'd worn my running cap and it kept the rain off my face.
Then from behind me, a loud boom made me jump. The thunder, followed by a streak of lightning, was so loud and close that it set off car alarms. I paused, wondering what to do. Should I move onto the sidewalk and stay under the trees? I know, I know, I should never stand under a tree during a thunder storm, but I didn't want to run in the middle of the road away from the trees either.
There were a couple of friends' houses not too far away. The one who was closest would still be asleep. The other was three blocks away, and she might be awake. If not, she had a large front porch that could shelter me.
I started to sprint (for me) running hard down the sidewalk. The safety of my friend's porch was within three blocks. After two blocks of sprinting, I could feel my heart pounding. I was going to have to slow down or walk, I thought. Another bolt of lightning followed by booming thunder urged me to keep going. And I thought about the Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire movie I'd watched the night before when he was ready to give up underwater and gave one last blast to pull himself to the surface. "Ascendio!" I shouted in my head and I made my legs keep pumping.
I reached the porch and peered in the doorway. Anne had just gotten up. Wearing a pink sleep shirt, she let me in and gave me a towel.
I was still about a mile from home. My slumbering husband was rousted from bed to fetch me, and he grumbled about it all the way home through the standing water on the road and the claps of thunder above.