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Fathers Who Harm

Father's Day has become a more highlighted day of celebration than when I was a child. My father was born in 1927 and lived a pretty long life: he died in 2013, a few months into his 86th year. He was not a bad father. He did struggle with alcohol addiction and was imperfect in other ways, but he was basically loving and kind. He was a workaholic, so we did not have access to him for emotional affirmation, but he told me in his old age that he always loved everything about us kids and felt sad that he had not been a better parent, and he was sorry he was most of all that he had not spent more time with us.  Other men in my family– my grandfathers, my husband, son, uncles, brother– have all shown themselves to be good guys and have adult children whom they love(d) and who love them back.  But I think to myself, having been a social worker to women and children who fled lives with men who put them and their children through Hell, that there are probably a fair number of children, te

Breathing in the Dentist Chair

The older I get, the more freaked I am about getting dental work done (also called  dentist phobia ).  I know, such high anxiety doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, but I figure it has to do with (1)blowing my adrenals in my past role as a social worker and (2)having too many frickin root canals along life's way.  In any case, today was the day where I had to go and get the prep work done for a new crown. A couple of days ago I called the dentist to let them know that I would like to have some Nitrous Oxide.  Two friends told me it was like "a twilight sleep" and that sounded good.  I checked out some of the forums online and was careful not to read the ones that complained about the Nitrous Oxide not working for them, or causing more anxiety or whatever.  I just knew that I needed something to handle all the tension in my shoulders, my racing heart, my rapid breathing, my dry mouth, etc. etc. etc. And of course I worried that it would also affect my new