Randy, once again, you share the hidden parts of your soul with us, so bravely and completely. Night terrors are the worst and I'm sorry you have had so many, and most of us, I'm sure, can relate to variations on your experience. You did make me smile, though, (as you inevitable do) with your descriptions of being trapped in "metal tubes, capsules, and coffins." I can relate totally!! Our upcoming trip to Scotland includes "a gondola ride to the higher slopes of Aonach Mòr, Scotland’s
eighth-highest mountain." Yikes!!! I'll let you know how it goes.
Scotland! Wouldn't we love to be going there with you. What fun we had the last time we traveled together. And we've just had to cancel our long-planned English garden tour for medical reasons (not life threatening; recovery underway), so are feeling VERY deprived! Have a great trip. and post lots of FB photos! (And so pleased that you found something to smile at even in the midst of my glumness.)
I'm sorry to hear you had to cancel your English gardens tour and I hope either you or Rick are on the way to recovery from whatever happened. Our travel plans began with our desire to attend Bill's grandson's graduation from Trinity College in Cambridge at the end of June. So we looked for a Scotland trip that might precede it and found the Road Scholar 15 days Best of Scotland trip that ends a few days before we need to be in Cambridge. And since we can get a direct flight from Raleigh to London, we decided to precede the Road Scholar trip with four days in London. So it's a lengthy trip, with many variations. Will keep you posted.
My Dad died at 54--I spent the entire year I was that age waiting for "it" to happen, didn't. As I remember my dad it's hard to think that his 5 grandkids are all older than he ever was. Surreal!
When you've talked about your father - especially all the things he accomplished - I've always pictured an old, old man with white hair and beard. I had no idea he died so young. And Surreal indeed about all his grandchildren already older than he was.
Randy, once again, you share the hidden parts of your soul with us, so bravely and completely. Night terrors are the worst and I'm sorry you have had so many, and most of us, I'm sure, can relate to variations on your experience. You did make me smile, though, (as you inevitable do) with your descriptions of being trapped in "metal tubes, capsules, and coffins." I can relate totally!! Our upcoming trip to Scotland includes "a gondola ride to the higher slopes of Aonach Mòr, Scotland’s
eighth-highest mountain." Yikes!!! I'll let you know how it goes.
Scotland! Wouldn't we love to be going there with you. What fun we had the last time we traveled together. And we've just had to cancel our long-planned English garden tour for medical reasons (not life threatening; recovery underway), so are feeling VERY deprived! Have a great trip. and post lots of FB photos! (And so pleased that you found something to smile at even in the midst of my glumness.)
I'm sorry to hear you had to cancel your English gardens tour and I hope either you or Rick are on the way to recovery from whatever happened. Our travel plans began with our desire to attend Bill's grandson's graduation from Trinity College in Cambridge at the end of June. So we looked for a Scotland trip that might precede it and found the Road Scholar 15 days Best of Scotland trip that ends a few days before we need to be in Cambridge. And since we can get a direct flight from Raleigh to London, we decided to precede the Road Scholar trip with four days in London. So it's a lengthy trip, with many variations. Will keep you posted.
My Dad died at 54--I spent the entire year I was that age waiting for "it" to happen, didn't. As I remember my dad it's hard to think that his 5 grandkids are all older than he ever was. Surreal!
When you've talked about your father - especially all the things he accomplished - I've always pictured an old, old man with white hair and beard. I had no idea he died so young. And Surreal indeed about all his grandchildren already older than he was.
All I can say is "Bless your Heart," a Southern comfort phrase. Thanks for sharing; I always wondered what a drug induced panic attact felt like.
Shirley
It's not to late to find out first hand! (But actually I don't recommend it - older and wiser as we are now!
Good read thanks. Fear nothing!
"Fear nothing!" she says. "Fear everything!" I think. Maybe you can give me some pointers on coming over to your side the next time we're together.