Attachment

He who is overly attached to his family members experiences fear and sorrow, for the root of all grief is attachment. Thus one should discard attachment to be happy. -Chanakya 

Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go. -Herman Hesse

This has been a hell of a week to be an almost ex-wife. 

As far as I know, Scott is doing as well as can be expected. They released him on Wednesday. Erica picked him up and he is recovering at the home of a friend.

So thanks for all your good wishes.

Kitty tales and life under the visor

1.
I woke up a few minutes ago to find Piper sleeping between my feet. I started to laugh as I thought back seventeen years. My tiny Siamese kitten, Baby, would nestle between my legs and I'd say, "Look, I have a furry little pussy between my legs." My daughters, fifteen and eleven, would yell, "Mom! Stop it" but I would only laugh. I totally cracked myself up embarrassing them. It was the height of motherly fun.

How can that be seventeen years ago? How can I have gotten Baby Boy for my forty-first birthday and how can he be gone for three years already? He made us laugh as a kitten and three months after his death, he made us laugh again. One day in May a friend called S and asked what he was doing. I could only hear this end and it went like this: "Burying a cat... February... in the freezer... in a box... with a label!" It was true the ground was too hard to bury him under the day lilies with our other cats when he died. So we lovingly wrapped a shoebox in tin foil and a Ziploc bag and put him in the freezer. After the phone call we wondered what would have happened if the police had looked in our freezer and found a box labelled: Baby, died February 1, bury when ground thaws.  We laughed and laughed. I loved that little cat.

Spray bottle aversion therapy seems to be working on Piper. He is not biting as often in play and has started letting me pet him while he rests without attacking my hand. I usually find him somewhere under the covers when I wake up. He purrs when he sees me and purrs when I pick him up. I find it comforting to have someone greet me when I come home from work.

2.
For the first time I understand why guys like to wear ball caps. It is the very reason why I don't like wearing one; restricted vision. You can't see above the visor without bending the neck back. It keeps one focused looking straight ahead and down. My job as a demonstrator requires me to wear one and I am always looking down and ahead to a very small area between aisles. I do not get spaced out when I am under the visor. (Sort of like blinders on a horse.)

It is interesting pushing product. There is no ego involved. I put out the product and talk about it. I don't have to like it or dislike it. I talk facts, ten grams of protein and only three grams of fat. It doesn't matter if people take it or decline. The time goes fairly quickly until about three when traffic gets real slow. Then it is four o'clock and time to clean up. Out by four thirty and taking a nap by five. Then, because I slept in the evening, up again at three to blog. It is a funny old life.

Like having a toddler

Having a young kitten around is similar to having a toddler. Piper gets into everything and is having a hard time understanding the word no. He is a biter. If he were still with his mother he would be wrestling and biting his litter mates. If he bit mom too hard, she would bite back. I don't (and won't) bite back. For a while he would cease biting at a sharp word, but now it is the water bottle. Bite me and get spritzed.

I once read that there is a particular moth that is used in scientific research because all specimens react exactly the same. There is no personality to get in the way. Not so humans, and not so cats. I can not remember any other kitten being such a biter. Of course, no other kitten came to me so young. I am a mother, but not a cat mother and must use other skills. Just as when my daughters were tiny, I have to find what works.

When our oldest was a baby we had very little furniture and the stereo equipment sat on the floor. She would approach it and S would say in a very firm voice, "NO!" She would back off and leave it alone. By the time the younger reached that age the stereo was up on a shelf. It didn't matter what we did or said, she was going to touch that equipment; the little Fisher-Price music box turntable would not do. She had her eye on the Bang and Olufson. We finally gave in and taught her how to use it, including how to hold a record.

Well cats are not kids and Piper doesn't want to use a piece of equipment. He wants a piece of me, and frankly if he doesn't stop biting, he is going to be one wet kitty. Have water bottle, will spray. Bring it on you cute thang! (He's sitting in front of the computer purring.)

About that kitten

About five weeks ago I brought an abandoned kitten into my life. The vet thought he was about four weeks old. At twelve ounces, he weighed only three quarters of a pound. We know he spent at least one night alone after being thrown from a car because his sister was rescued from a drainage pipe the day before and luck alone that his rescuers thought to go back and search for siblings. They found one other, my boy Piper.

Time for a progress report. He is getting huge! I am not sure what he weighs but he has doubled in size and  quadrupled in fun. He is going to be long legged tall and long all over. Right now he reminds me of a skinny ten year old boy, always hungry, putting away a ton of food. He makes his own fun. Sometimes in the night I hear a little ball being batted into walls. Right now he is having fun playing soccer with a bottle cap. He carries things from room to room in his mouth amassing his treasures under the bed. So far he has bottle caps, a ribbon, a taffy wrapper, and every used tissue and paper napkin he can steal.

He bats gently at my ankles following me wherever I go and I am learning to look down before stepping backward. He emerges stretching from under the skirt of an armchair when I come home. He greets me and welcomes guests, but only if they are with me. 

At age forty-one I asked for a kitten. I needed something young to offset the independence of teenage daughters. Baby Boy was just right at the time. I loved him dearly all his life and was not looking for another kitten. Piper and I have fallen into each other's life. I rescued him from a short existence in the wild and he repays me with purrs and nips and absolute trust. 

What a kitten! What a cat! 

(I will post pictures after I find where the camera is hiding.)

A Time To Love

The old lady laments that she can't have nostalgia with the old man because he doesn't remember anything. The old man says there is nothing worth remembering, that these are the good old days. Maybe he is right. But if you don't remember the past do you ever learn anything? I want to remember this time and enjoy it too. Not everyday is a party, but isn't everyday a time to love?

Our honorary niece, Crystal, married her love high on top of a ski slope on Saturday. We took the chair lift to a sweet tented pavilion set up for the ceremony. Looking down we could see this beautiful, verdant area and because the sky was so clear we could see downtown Minneapolis. The words were simple and simply said, to love each other. Our extended family sat together in a state of bliss. We were loving love and that expression of love by two people we loved. I think we all got a little verklempt when we saw the lovely bride and when she and Mark faced each other and held hands.

I know that time of marriage with S is over. I don't really miss him as much as I miss working towards the goal of a good life together. As I watched Crystal and Mark, I wanted so much to tell them not to let life get them down. Let life bring you together.

This evening I took the old man and old lady to Chez Daniel in Bloomington. They love the rack of lamb, which is cooked to order. We spent a very easy two and a half hours in a nice setting enjoying good food. We did not have to go anywhere and the old lady said it was like being on vacation. I think back to when they first came out here and the agony of eating out with them. Being in a state of peacefulness and love certainly helped to enjoy the meal. I did not get indigestion. Were they any better? Not at all. My father was rude to the wait assistant and my mother took out her teeth and rinsed them in the water glass.

The awareness of love is a gift. Although it is always there, surrounding us and keeping us alive, the recognition of love is precious. And for all the times I forget, right now I am remembering that the time to love is now.

Mother's helper

The old lady called and told me there is something wrong with her TV. She hears a voice at about three in the morning yelling, "Wake up, wake up!" followed by the sound of birds. She said she has heard the birds for a couple of days but last night was the first time she heard the wake up words. I can't find any alarm on her set or on the remote. I called Dynex and spoke to someone with a heavy accent who assured me that any kind of alarm on the set would be a beep. The old lady wears a talking watch and while I was there it announced that it was 10 AM. Since it was late afternoon I knew her watch was wrong.  How she got it fapoopled I don't know. I said I thought the setting for the alarm was off, too, and that she must have selected something other than the usual rooster. She insists it is the TV.

The old man wasn't wearing his dentures and hearing aids. He was taking tiny little shuffling steps, and wasn't using words, just a kind of sign language. He is a mess and I got him talking and when I asked him if he was wearing his teeth he was genuinely amazed to realize he hadn't put them in. The little radio/cd player he takes out to the gazebo is screwed up and I left with a talking watch, the radio and the realization that these people are exceeding all life expectancies at 95 and 96. I thought last summer was the last time the old man would go in the lake but he surprised us and was able to float around with Erica  twice this summer. I can't imagine, even if he makes it another year, that he will be able to go in the lake again.

This evening was the last Wednesday concert for the summer at Wolfe Lake Park. The Sounds of Simon is a very talented Simon and Garfunkel tribute band. Once again I am in awe of the poetry and songwriting skills of Paul Simon and grateful to be living in a lovely area. I thank again the people who have made it possible to be here and also there for my parents when they need me.

How not to impress me

Be careful what you wish for!  I mentioned that I would like to meet a man who isn't shy and is an interesting conversationalist. I said I was tired of carrying the conversation. Well! I forgot to say make sure he lets you talk too and is not a windbag. Everyday is another learning experience. The lesson? None of us is as interesting as we think we are. Hence the short entry.

Pride and Papa

There is an old saying that pride goeth before a fall. I think it doesn't have to be before a fall; it can be before a step down. When I first lost my job, I was confident I would have a new one before the unemployment ran out. I was not going to take a job that paid less than what I was making. That did not happen. Here is another way of looking at it. Using "goeth" for goes, pride must leave before one can take a step down. One must get rid of pride before anything can happen. Five years later pride is gone, I am open. I am at a point financially that I became willing to look at jobs that I otherwise would not consider.

Today I took a drug test to prove that I am safe to hand out samples at Costco. (In fact I had to take three because I didn't give them enough the first two times. Not much pride in sitting in a waiting room for hours nursing cups of water.) I am excited to have a job. I hope I am good at it and don't lose my cool with the customers. As soon as they get back the criminal background check, I'll start my training. (Veggie chips? Right over here sir.)

Yesterday I had to take the old man to the dermatologist where they carved away a little more of his skin, this time on his arm. While we were in the car I told him about the job and the criminal check. I joked that those ten years at Leavenworth will look bad on my record. Then I asked him if he ever was in jail and he answered, "Sure." I asked what for and he told me because he had nowhere to stay. He was thirteen or fourteen. How many times? He thought maybe eight times. Then I asked him what happened, where did he go after jail? Did he find a place to stay? He went back to the streets and found a grate. My heart broke for that poor scared child. I never knew that.

He had a mother and a father, grandparents and cousins and no one to take him in. He wasn't a bad child, a thief or a criminal, just unwanted and overlooked. He is deeply flawed, and in his mind he did his best to keep his family together after my mother died. He provided a home and a step mother. He was a madman it is true. It was only when he was 90 and started taking antidepressants that he became a fairly decent person and still he can be awful.

The Dalai Lama talks all the time about compassion. It is only by imagining ourselves in another persons place that we can try to understand and have that compassion. When we were kids we'd ask the old man where he went to college and he would respond, "The school of hard knocks." He has kept most of his early life a secret, let out in dribs and drabs as he ages. It was hard to have any compassion for him before I knew the story of the orphan asylum. We only knew what we could see, and what we saw was violence and anger. Yet there would be glimpses of a loving heart at times. I've had compassion for the man who lost his wife and had three children to raise and compassion for the father who lost his twenty-one year old son. But I had no compassion for the way he was because I didn't understand how he got that way. Having that compassion makes it hard to stay mad at the stuff he says and does.

The medical intuitive Carolyn Myss says that there are entities we meet before birth with whom we make a sacred contract to achieve a goal in this life. I thought for quite a while that maybe the old man was here for me to learn forgiveness, but maybe I am here to help him end his life feeling safe and secure. (Either way, I still want to end it with him this incarnation.)

A Wake Up Call

I usually wake up quite early, feed the kitten and myself and go back to bed for a few hours. (Sounds tough, I know.) This morning I woke up for the second time on my knees by the bed holding my head. I had no idea how I got there or why I was seeing stars. It felt like I had smashed my head on a car door. The only thing I can figure out is that I must have fallen out of bed and hit the corner of the night table on my way down. I got a package of frozen food and put it on the lump and kept it there until my forehead was numb. The cold pack was probably a good move because what could have been a huge ugly bruise is only a slightly discolored lump and can be covered with hair.

I am calling this my wake up call to remind me to get up and enjoy the day I have been given and this precious life. I can sleep when I'm dead. I am also going to sleep more centrally in the middle of the bed.

Addendum: 8 AM, up, dressed, bed made, good breakfast, cat fed, litter box cleaned. No going back to bed today.

How I am doing

Since we only have this moment, I mean this one, not the one that just passed, no, no, this one... well you get the idea, I am doing fine, this moment. Beautiful breakfast of tuna salad made with wasabe mayonnaise and dill weed on caraway rye and very garlicky marinated cucumber salad. If people have pancakes for dinner, why not lunch for breakfast? It makes sense to me. (Sometimes I love being a grown-up.) I have had a lot of ups and downs these past two weeks, but since I only have this fleeting now, I choose to let those experiences go and focus on the positive now.

I am in a 16 week diabetes research study where I have to record all my numbers and now in the fifth week  I am adjusting insulin to the data I submitted. It is a study for a new computer program that will advise dosages on a personal scale that goes according to blood glucose. It is hard to explain.

Furry little Piper is doing well. His abscess is gone and I don't think I have to give him any more antibiotic. He is full of beans and into everything. He is not an abandoned baby anymore but a cute and cuddly six week old growing every day. There has never been an ugly kitten, but gosh, he is so cute. If he hadn't fallen in my lap this way, I would have adopted an older cat. I forgot how much energy kittens take! He needs lots of playtime and has wrestled my arm and hand into submission. He gives little bites, but does not break skin. The one good thing about having neuropathy in my feet is he can chew toes and it doesn't hurt. He enjoys the computer, watching fingers fly and laying his head on the warm laptop. Sometimes he sleeps in a position that looks just like the tiger in Calvin and Hobbes. I had the opportunity to drive cross country with my daughter but what would I do with the kitten? Hmm, a complication I hadn't thought about. As my father would say, "Caught like a rat in a trap!" More like caught like a pet owner with a new pet.

I've applied for an $11. an hour part time job. I sure hope I am not overqualified. Why did I attach my resume? Knucklehead. I have also been in my pool almost every day this summer and have actually lost two whole pounds in the last month. Instead of looking at it as just a fraction of how much more I need to lose, I am looking at it as two pounds I didn't gain. There is perspective for you, clear thinking and positive outlook. Wouldn't you hire me?

The phone just rang! She will interview me on Tuesday at 1:30. Be still my heart!

When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping again

First off, Baby Piper is doing just fine. The vet was able to drain his abscess and formulate a tick medicine for his weight. I've washed all the bedding again though I look awful with scabby bites all over my body. They wouldn't be so bad if I didn't scratch, so of course I scratch all the time. Time for Benadryl or it's generic equal and off to Walgreens.

Then to the Unique Thrift Store for some bargains. I love the Unique. You can find what you are looking for and other things not even on the radar. I didn't buy the dolls from the 50th anniversary of It's A Beautiful Life, or another glass bowl or stuffed dog. But I did get what I went there for, a Diaper Genie! I don't have an infant nor do I provide daycare, but I am cleaning out a catbox daily. This gets rid of the paper bag and the mess and smell. $3.95 well spent. I also got a standing lamp and shade, a like-new cat carrier and (drum roll please) a genuine Louis Vuitton handbag shaped like a bowling bag.

It is over $1,400.00 new, $500 used on eBay and mine for $5.95. It has a tiny tear on the lower piping and shows use on the inside, but I am jazzed.  Will I keep it or give it away? If this is something your heart has been crying for, let me know. I truly believe that possessions find their owners.

Lay down with kittens, wake up with fleas

The vet combed the kitten and couldn't see any fleas. She warned me they might be in the egg stage. I have a feeling they are not eggs any longer. I still can't see them, but something has me all bitten up! Quick search on Google tells me Piper is too young to use chemicals on and that I will be washing every bit of bedding AGAIN. The treatment is to bathe him with Dawn dishwashing detergent. Thank goodness he is tiny and my sink is deep. I think I can do it by myself. 

We were lucky that our daughters never caught lice. Dumb luck since elementary schools are the place even the cleanest of kids get them. There was a time when my nephews and niece got lice and kept getting re-infested. Their mother had to wash all the bedding and all their clothes time and time again. What a job! 

Right now he is running across the top of the couch and ducking down under the pillows in the corners. He is as cute as cute can be, fleas and all. 

Dear Readers, if you have hints on how to deal with this pesky problem on a tiny kitty and a carpeted apartment, please let me know. Thanks! 

Piper!

Yesterday my friend gave a home to a kitten that was found in a drainage pipe. Today it occurred to her that there might be be another kitten abandoned. I am now the owner of a little boy kitten. He is all of 3/4 of a pound and only four weeks old. He likes being held and has a squeaky little voice and a very quiet purr.

I don't know why people just throw animals out of car windows. Don't they know they can take them to the Humane Society, a no kill shelter? (Why do people put newborns in the garbage when any fire station or hospital will take the infant?)

My friend named her little girl Nefertiti. I looked at Egyptian names but thought since he was found in a pipe, he should be Piper. He has eaten a little sliced turkey, lapped at a little formula, and pooped in his sleeping box.  Hopefully tomorrow he will use the litter box.

Thank you

To my daughters, thank you for making me a mother. It was the best job on earth and I am privileged to have watched you grow into wonderful women and the most decent of human beings.
To my son-in-law and his son, thanks for making me a mother-in-law and instant granny!
To my nieces and nephews, thank you for making me an auntie, and now a grauntie. It is wonderful to be a part of your life, be you near or far.
To my generous in-laws, thank you for helping me achieve independent living. My debt is immeasurable.
To my almost ex, thank you for going through much of life's adventure with me and not smothering me in my noisy thrashing sleep! Thanks for staying a friend.
To my sister, always there, and there always, thank you.

To the men and women sounding the sirens, thank you for being available to help those in crisis.
To the municipalities that provide clean water available twenty-four hours a day at the touch of a faucet, thanks.
To the growers, pickers, drivers and retailers in the supply chain of food, thank you for making life delicious.
To the hallway cleaners at the condo, thanks for all your efforts to keep my home beautiful.

To the teachers who taught me with passion, thank you.
To the taxpayers who funded my education, thank you. I will always remember the next generation.
To bosses who showed me respect, thank you and you have my respect.
To bosses who did not lead well, thank you for showing me what not to do.
To the administrators and aides who work with our seniors to keep them healthy and in their own homes, thanks.

To my old man, who makes demands, rarely says thank you, and doesn't appreciate what is done for him, thank you for being my father.  Contrary to your example I have become a giving person who is learning patience and forgiveness. When your actions annoy me I have the opportunity to assess my reactions and see the direction I want to grow. Being with you and learning more about your life has made me more compassionate. It has shown me that each minute brings a choice, to be miserable and make life miserable for those around us, or live in light.

Call me Sunbeam.

Thinking about kindness and compassion

On a daily basis, I try to be kind. I try to see the other's point of view (if I can look beyond my own). But how about compassion? A few examples; a dithery kind of nosey old lady came to my door to invite me to something happening in the building. I stood in the doorway and gave her the information. I did not invite her in, as I would most anyone. Was I unkind or just practical knowing it would be hard to get her to leave? A man from an online site contacted me that he was going to be in the area fairly regularly because he had a mother who lived here. It turns out that he is married and she does not know he contacts other women. Would I even meet him for a friendly lunch? No. I do not want to be part of another woman's unhappiness. Is it unkind not to make a new lunch pal? The practical part of me says, "Take care of you. Don't waste your time with people who are not of interest to you." But the part that looks over my shoulder says I could  have been kinder. I play a non-monetary betting game on line and often let the person with the fewest points win. Talk about random acts of kindness! It would be impossible to be any more random.

Several years ago I was lucky enough to see the Dalai Lama in person when he came to Minnesota. One story he told was of his friend, a monk who spent 20 years in a Chinese prison. When asked about the hardest part he said it was keeping his compassion for the Chinese. I knew I was quite far from that high place.

I was one of the biggest anti-Bush people around. I could not watch him speak or look at his face. One year my nephews gave me a life size George W cutout for Christmas. I screamed and threw it on the floor after opening it. Then I jumped on the effigy. Too bad no one caught it on tape; that would have won the prize. Much to my surprise, at the Obama inauguration I felt real compassion for him as outgoing president and human being. No one wanted to shake his hand. He looked so sad and lost. He truly didn't understand that his game was over and no one wanted to play with him anymore. As his helicopter flew away, I felt a weight come off my shoulders. It would take years to fix the country he and his friends broke. But I did feel compassion for that sad man. I admit it will take more years, if ever, for me to forgive Rove, Cheney and that pack of thieves. Heck, I am still angry at the damage done by Reagan.

It is all bound up together, kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. I am not sure I can have one without the others. It is Monday, a good day for working on all three.

ADDENDUM:
A man made a date with me last week for lunch today. He stood me up, no call, text, or email until this afternoon when he sent me a fb message saying he had been in a meeting he could not get out of. OK, I told him all the alternatives he could have done and that he left me looking like a fool. I showed no compassion, kindness, or forgiveness. I am not really mad, but I wanted him to feel bad... I have such a far distance to go to be the person I want to be.

ADDENDUM 2:
I accepted a nice apology.

Missing our mothers

Today on fb I reconnected with a friend from back in the day. It has to be well over 40 years since we had seen each other. We both lost our mothers at a young age. She wrote, "I was so young when she died, and have spent a good deal of time learning who I am based on that single event (and how it changed me)."


Oh my goodness. I was six and I remember only good things about my mother (and one time that she got mad at me for breaking a lamp) and the aspirations she had for me. She got me my first library card at four years old and I still read voraciously. I can still see the sun making the children's room at Grand Army Plaza golden. I learned to ride a bike because I remember my mother showing me a picture of college girls riding through the autumn leaves and telling me I would do that. None of that came to pass and when my father was most out of control I would often wonder how different my life would have been had she still lived.

My father is a man who cannot handle change, based on his own horrific upbringing and my mother kept him in check. He was left with and 11, 6 and 2 yr old. He remarried a woman ill prepared to cope with all of it about a year after my mother died.

When my eldest was six I went for grief counseling and the therapist told me it was natural for me to feel anger at the one who died. But I didn't because I knew deep in my soul that she NEVER wanted to leave me, never, never, never. I have had a rocky life with the old man and in 2005, I moved him and my stepmother from Bayview to assisted living in a suburb of Minneapolis. The crisis commuting was too much.

She is 96 and he is 95, married over 50 years; I have no doubt that I did the right thing even though they have taken five years of my life. Their declining years are peaceful, especially since the old man is on an anti-depressant. How I wish we could have got him on something years ago. What a change for the nicer, although he can still be a pain in the ass.

We will always miss our mothers. The old lady still misses her mother who died in 1969. I went to the cemetery back in 1996 and just howled with grief when I saw her headstone and quite alarmed my 19 year old daughter. The best I can do to honor her memory is live a good life, or a life of goodness. I have been so lucky to have had a wonderful mother-in-law and even though I am not married to her son any longer, she still considers me her daughter. 

I look forward to a long life as a mother. I am learning to keep my mouth closed and treat my daughters as the strong women they are who don't need my advice. They just need my love and acceptance, which they have in bushels.

The worst that could happen

When I was a young girl shopping with my step mother in NY I thought the worst that could happen was getting separated and lost among the crowds of shoppers. As a young mother I thought it might be going to jail. These things never happened. As a woman in my late fifties I found myself saying that the worst had happened and I lived through it, no fear. I lost my marriage and job and found myself saddled with demanding old parents and no income. But these are not the worst that could happen. Oh, no, not by a very long measure.

I live in a beautiful little place in a nice neighborhood. My children are healthy, I have some friends. The refrigerator is filled with good things to eat. Hennepin County has a fabulous library system and a program that keeps old people in their homes and healthy. I just took a shower in water that is piped to my condo, both cold and hot. My health is fine and If I am not happy, it is because I am focusing on a few blades of crabgrass in an otherwise verdant lawn.

In parts of this world women are stoned to death for adultery. Villagers walk miles to get water from suspect sources. Children go to sleep and wake up hungry as their parents are helpless to feed them. A huge population of children in Africa have lost their parents to AIDS and the lucky ones have a grandmother to raise them. Displaced people are roaming the earth looking for a safe shelter that they can call home. Brides are being burnt in India, yes, there is a whole long list to make one sad. In North Minneapolis a day doesn't seem to go by without a shooting incident of some kind. Call me Debby Downer if you must.

I truly do not know the answers for all the problems in this world. I know though that I must acknowledge the suffering. I can't say that a young woman cast out of her village for having a fistula is not my problem and since there is not much I can do about it I don't need to know about it. It seems to me that by appreciating my life, by seeing how very blessed I am, an energy is given me. By gaining perspective, I gain in compassion and understanding.  The Dalai Lama talks so much about compassion because it is only through that compassion we put ourselves in a mindset where we can work for the betterment of all. Today, I am striving for compassion and I hope I achieve some. Why not? What is the worst that can happen?

A conversation for the birds

Up very early, before the sun listening to the birds. I swear it sounds like conversation.
"Chirp?"
"Go back to bed, sun isn't up."
"Chirp, chirp?"
"It is Sunday, let me sleep a little longer."
"Chirp... chirp.... CHIRP!"
"We'll eat soon."
"Chirp?"
"I don't know... where do YOU want to go?"
"ChIrp's?"
"We can go to McDonalds anytime, let's go someplace different."
"Chirp?"
"The bistro with the outside tables. Bound to be french fries on the sidewalk."
"Chirp, chirp, chirp chirp ChIrp's!!!"
"If you want McDonalds so badly, ask your father to take you."

I think they have gone to forage because the chirps have really subsided and the earlier discussions are over with just a few early morning greetings here and there. I really love this time of morning. Wishing all a wonderful day, and remember to eat breakfast. It can be the best meal of the day, worms aside.

One of a kind

At a senior assisted living apartment building, people come and go. Mostly they go to the hospital and then rehab. Sometimes they come back.  I saw a friend of my parents last week when I took my father to the gerontologist. She was in great spirits and looking forward to coming back. She visited the building on  Friday and my mother remarked how happy she was to see her. You don't need to know her health problems, suffice it to say they were severe.

Shirley died this morning. My mother is devastated. We are in agreement that we're glad she did not have to suffer very much and that she got to see her friends before she died. Then my mother gave the greatest eulogy a person could have. She said, "Shirley was one of a kind. She was tolerant with a good word for everybody. She was a friend to all. She was kind to all. I am going to miss her."

Goodbye dear lady, may we all be as graciously remembered.

A day at the beach, and after

I brought my thousand year old parents to the beach to enjoy the warm weather on Saturday. It was a bit of work because I had to go back to the old house, find the floats and chairs and then set up at the beach before I picked them up. The old man, 95, had his jams and a sun-safe shirt on. He also wore sandals and a sun-safe hat. The old lady, 96, wore white shorts and a little top, sandals and a straw hat. She sat in the shade while Erica and I took the old man out on the lake. It takes two to get him on the float and four to get him off and on his feet up on the beach. Since Eri was on another float and both were on a long rope tied to the buoy, I got to play on flotation noodles with my nine year old grandson. John sat with Bubby up on the chairs.  Afterward we all went to the Soho Cafe and ate NY style pizza.

Later, talking to John at the condo pool, I said that I never expected them to live this long. I truly thought last summer would be the last time my old man would be on the lake. He really is much weaker this year, and I don't see myself bringing him to the beach without assistance like before. I brought him to the doctor earlier this week when he was running a fever and John asked why I keep on taking care of him when I profess I can't wait for him to die. Now that I started taking care of him I just can't stop and say he is on his own. I took on a job and have to finish it. Some people have told me I have done more than anyone could expect. That is probably true but it isn't over until they are gone. I've been told I will miss them when they are gone. We shall see.

I have never been a good sleeper but after my hours at the lake and pool I slept almost nine hours, got up for awhile and went back to sleep for another three hours! I was thrilled when Pete and Les invited me out for dinner. It's fun to drive down Nicollet Avenue, commonly called "Eat Street" and chose from the  myriad of ethnic dining choices. We went to the Noodle Bowl, a newer Vietnamese restaurant that Laurel and I found last week where we had wonderful Pho'. Today we enjoyed three distinct tastes; curried chicken, seafood stir fry and an incredible beef chow fun. We didn't order anything spicy but that beef nearly blew my head off. Pete said it reminded him of Singapore and it was the best thing he had in a long time.

Later today a friend is coming over with his pasta maker and we are going to spend the day making noodles and sauce. In between we will run out to the pool and relax. Later we might go to the movies. Isn't life different than we think it will be? All the worry and plans, hopes, expectations and sometimes disappointments works out to something different. The family get together turns into three different days, some time with family, some with a friend, and some just all alone. And rather than the usual picnic/barbeque food I get to enjoy pizza, amazing Asian and later, home made pasta. If I can remember that each day is an opportunity to be amazed with wonder at life, what a wonderful life it can be.

As my friend Michael ends his email, blessed be.

An Unusual Fourth of July

Independence Day is another name for July 4th. I started thinking about freedom and independence and what it means to me. 

Janis Joplin sang: 

"Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose
Freedom ain't worth nothing but it's free." 

Recently Martina McBride recorded a song about a woman who gets her revenge on an abusive husband:

 "Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing let the whole world know that

Today is a day of reckoning let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong 

Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay, it’s independence day".

Well! I guess if I had to choose (and I don't) I would roll Janis' way. I never really looked for freedom. I liked having encumbrances and responsibilities. I liked having people depend on me. These days I feel rudderless, without an anchor, and I don't really like it. 

For me, July 4th is right up there with Thanksgiving as an important family holiday. Our dear friends who usually host the get-together at their lake home are unable to this year due to an accident. Our host and hostess go out of their way to make it a special day for us. I wish I could take away our hostesses pain and make it a special day for her. So far I will be alone. I know there will be people here at the condo hosting their families by the pool. Maybe one or both of my girls will come by. I would like to see my son-in-law and grandson. Maybe I will be invited somewhere. (Hint?)

I have also been thinking about my responsibility as an American. The founding of this country as a democracy was an experiment never seen before. On paper it was wonderful. What a goal, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Of course it was more wonderful for land owning white men than it was for their wives or slaves, servants, or native peoples as the case might be. As those founders died off their words lived on. So many people have come here looking for a better life, either financially, politically or spiritually and many have found what they are looking for. We are a people who pursue happiness. Drive by the parks this weekend and see the families being happy together. (Hey, who forgot the ice?) It is the national pastime and each of us as free to pursue it in the manner we please.

On paper it still is a pretty wonderful thing and over the years we have tried to foist it on peoples around the world who haven't the historical context to apply it in their cultures. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't and sometimes corruption takes place instead. I want America to be the good neighbor, setting by example a standard  for the world to emulate. I want the words on the paper to be ones we actually live by. One sad thing for me was finding out that what I thought was altruism was just capitalism. Another is knowing that we talk about freedom of speech, but in truth, pointing out the Emperor isn't wearing clothes can get me into trouble. I have never believed in "my country right or wrong." Nor do I believe our way is the only one that God approves of or that God blesses America more than any other nation.

Our time here on Earth is finite. Our lives are but a grain of sand in the vastness of the universe. Our form of government can't even be measured in the wheel of time, two hundred plus years is too small to notice. This Independence Day I say, "God bless the whole world, no exceptions." 

Be well and heal soon dear Clara. 

Parties or Petunias?

Friday afternoon I needed to stop at Costco Pharmacy for one item and one item only. It was exceptionally crowded and I had to park way over by Home Depot. On the way in I saw a woman come out with a gorgeous garden pot of succulent plants. 

I strolled the samples while waiting for my order and did some judicious shopping, a two-pack of tiny watermelons, Healthy Choice fudgesicles, and found myself looking at the garden pots, again. I just wanted to see if I could find another pot of succulents. Geraniums, petunias, and combinations of both for only $9.99. No I did not need another pot of each. Too bad about the succulents, though. They would have wintered over beautifully. And then I saw back on the shelf a Gerbera daisy! It was in a pot with my favorite wax begonias and ivy. I grabbed it and put in the cart. My daughter told me I had to stop buying flowers, but oh, I wanted these. Back went the rotisserie chicken, and back went the pita chips; there, I justified the flowers.

I used to live on a hill with tons of room to plant whatever I wanted. I started out so ambitiously with raspberry canes and dahlias. I planted tulips and wild flowers. The chipmunks ate everything planted. I never saw the fruit or flowers. Every petunia got leggy and ugly. I had some luck with hanging begonias and roses grown in pots. I was so proud of those roses! Over the years I planted five rose bushes each year and treated them like fragrant annuals. I would joke that I didn't deserve a large yard; I was the type of gardener who should live in a condo with a little patio.

This spring S brought over my large planters and several small pots. I bought starter and seeds and planted morning glories and sweet peas in the small pots. I am training them to go up a wrought iron fence. Five new rose bushes, and a few $.86 geraniums in small pots and I was proudly done. Then a tomato plant that is actually producing little tomatoes, and a couple of huge pots on sale and a hibiscus that was practically free. Whereas on .65 acres I confined myself to a few roses, here on my patio I have twenty-one pots and I love each and every one. Stop me before I plant again.

I am living on a very tight income these days. This has been a weekend of parties that I could have attended. I really wanted to see some out of town people at one of them. But when I figured the price of admission to the club, parking, the cost of refreshment I realized I would rather spend my discretionary dollars on flowers.  When I had to weigh the cost of the party against the pot of flowers, I chose the one that would give pleasure all summer long.

Making my daughters sick

Wow, that is a dramatic title!

My girls are all grown up and each has food sensitivity issues and I have unintentionally been making them sick. One has cut out all dairy and gluten because the consequences outweigh the pleasure. No buttery cupcake is worth the headache that inevitably follows. My other daughter is learning to live without a gall bladder and I keep making her sick with ice cream or melted cheese.

My great-niece is showing food sensitivities and her mother is aware of what will and will not make her break out. No one thinks it is a fad or all in the baby's brain. Unfortunately grown-ups are not given that level of respect. They are labeled food faddists. I am reminded of a character in the book Vision of Light by Judith Merkle Riley. Margaret is accused of false piety when she keeps Lent all year and never eats meat. She explains that she is not pious or putting herself above the priests; she just gets stomach aches when she eats anything that ever had eyes.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T and M-M-O-B (mind my own business) are the buzzwords for today. Respect the choices people make and trust what they are doing is right for themselves and mind my own business. Mother needs to be mindful not to judge and to keep sorbet in the freezer. I don't know whether I can give up a lifetime of offering food but I can lovingly offer food without gluten or dairy or hard to digest fats. Anyone want a cherry? How about some grapes? I have a potato...

What if?

After seeing the newest Robin Hood film with Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett, I am left with some questions. Aside from the obvious such as how much is historically accurate, why isn't Maid Marian wearing a wimple, and how did they film some of the scenes, how different would the world be if the people who started war actually led the troops on the field of battle?

In the olden days a leader was often a warrior and chieftain, up to and including kings and other "nobles". If you wanted your clansmen and countrymen to fight you had to be up there with them. Of course in those days most fiefdoms were smaller than the nations we have today. King Richard, also known as Lionhart, died in battle. His rotten younger brother also went to war (and then reneged on his contracts.)

In latter centuries, leaders have lead from war rooms, keeping track of battles on many fronts. I can't imagine FDR leading from a wheelchair or Winston Churchill on a horse. Recent histories have revealed the private lives of these leaders. Although they worked hard and worried about their troops, they also drank champagne while those troops slept in foxholes and ate c-rations.

What if George W led the attack in Iraq rather than show up for a staged photo-op declaring "Mission accomplished"? What if he went himself to the mountains of Afghanistan to root out Osama Ben Laden? What if Saddam Hussein and Osama Ben Laden led not by orders, but by example? Would the world today be a safer place?

There are young men and women all over the world, on both sides of every altercation and philosophy willing to put their lives on the line for their country and their beliefs. I do not think a king or president's life is more valuable than that of a misguided suicide bomber or a career Marine. I do think that before anyone asks them to make the sacrifices that they do, they should be willing to put their life on the line, too.  If not, then make peace.

The assumption of evil

I love my little condo. I enjoy meeting my neighbors. I am making friends. I am part of a community. It is driving me crazy, and as S used to remind me, for me it is a very short drive.

I made friends with some of the older ladies in the building and was invited to book club. It was fun and intellectually stimulating. I had a wonderful time until the social part. There is a spy network here that drives me crazy. They always say it is to keep the building nice but that isn't what makes me nuts. It is the assumption of evil. If they see something, and let me tell you they are watching, they automatically assume a bad connotation. It is not innocent until proven guilty, it is guilty until proven innocent.

One woman started talking about people coming to use the pool and then driving away. These were lovely young people who sat doing Soduku puzzles. They were not loud or obnoxious. I spoke with one young man who dove in against the rules. I told him in a lighthearted way not to dive because the water was too shallow and I didn't know lifesaving and didn't want him to drown. No problem, he would not dive again. We got to talking, he was gutting his parent's condo and living there while doing the work. I asked if he knew the other young people and he told me they were his cousins. Nice.

I told the group these facts and there ensued a discussion about one of the owners needing to be at the pool with the guests. Why nit pick? His parents own the condo, he is a resident for now, he was with his guests. Why assume anything is wrong? Why not assume goodness, innocence, and the absence of evil until shown otherwise?

I'm not an idiot. I am careful and cautious. I refuse, though, to live my life assuming the worst of others. Prove me wrong, I'm willing to take the chance.

Sur la Table, ooh, Sur la table!

Now that my kitchen is almost complete comes a catalog of wild desires. Not necessarily my desires... but some people's. We start off on the cover with the most beautiful glass beverage servers, each with it's own dedicated stand and label hanging on a chain. Here is a press and grill accessory for making sliders and plastic baskets and checkered papers, just like going to a cheap restaurant! Little piggy bowls, and, be still my heart, the Margaritaville Frozen Concoction Maker 2000. With it you can make everything from a daiquiri to a mudslide; and only $349.95. Time to throw out the old blender indeed.

As I go deeper I find a rack for grilling Chili Pepper Poppers or even Creme Brulee. Baskets, stones, humidifiers and more all for the outdoor grill. Oh right, I don't have one but I can use those belonging to the condo. Maybe we can buy a Mario Batali Amici Brick Oven. It is portable on wheels and available in red or black on sale for $3,475.00. I'll bring it up at the next association meeting.

Last fall I bought new cookware and I have been quite happy with it. Bronze colored Analon that I got a great deal on at Macy's. I should have waited for this sale. There is a twelve piece Demeyere Atlantis Cookware set valued at $1,895.00 on sale for $1,650.00 plus free shipping!

Don't get me wrong, I love Sur la table and love the little tomato bowls I found at Goodwill, (what a find! Score!) and the French rolling pin I bought in Chicago. Now they are here at 50th and France Ave and I got some wonderful little doodads with the $10.00 gift certificate they sent me as a welcome present.

When I was the worst dressed kid in school, or at least felt like it, I was happy until I found out what was cool. Now I dress myself just right for me, and have a little condo with a kitchen that is just right for me. I look at those huge kitchens in the magazines and wonder what could they have in all those cabinets? Thanks to Sur la table, now I know! But even with all that space, is there a place for the Tupperware?

Giving offense or instigating change?

There is a group I belong to on facebook that posted a sort of nasty message. Basically it said that they were the original of that subject and that others should not copycat. They should be original. I posted that they were using a famous logo with a little change and they should live and let live. I do think facebook is big enough that there can be two groups on the same subject. The original poster said that what he was doing is called creativity. I had to laugh, but I just checked back and my posting had been deleted. Whoa! But then I noticed the new logo, not quite so fancy.

One day my thousand year old father told his doctor to lose some weight, he was getting tubby. (Yes, that's where I get my tactful nature.) We had another appointment several months later and the doctor had lost weight. He told the old man that he did it for him. Well the old man is always on me about my weight and he doesn't inspire me at all; his comments just piss me off.

Years ago we lived in a town with one school bus stop. Ninety kids would gather and act like kids. I went before the school board and asked for a stop nearer our home. I offended the vice principal/bus coordinator by telling the board that if there wasn't a change I would be back every meeting until my youngest started school in two years. By the end of that first year I did get the bus stop but that man was still angry at me. I made him change his schedule and every time he saw me he gave me a little pinch. I finally had to tell him to get his hands off and stop hurting me.

In every relationship there is a subject or two that causes friction when discussed. I tried to get around the friction in every possible way from straight talk to coming at it sideways to using a sweet voice to saying I wasn't making judgements. Nothing worked. There were just some subjects that were TNT. My partner got around this by not discussing them. It didn't get easier and the subject didn't go away. We just slipped into inertia. Nothing was discussed and nothing changed.

I am 58 years old. If I live to be 98, I have another 40 years, but in reality probably not that long. I do not want to live in a state of inertia and denial. I do not want to give offense either. I want to be honest, and funny, and loving, and make others feel good. But I am not a tactful person and on occasion I will inadvertently give offense while in conversation. Please don't take it personally. Call me on it and I will apologize for hurting feelings. I want the best for my family and friends and don't always use the right words to express those feelings.

The nicest blind date

A lovely man took me to dinner tonight and I had a wonderful time. He is charming, originally a Jersey boy.  He is my age and we had so much to talk about. Our families came from the same part of Russia at about the same time in the early 1900's. Without prior meeting, we had history and spoke the same language. I knew his references and he knew mine. We spent almost three hours over dinner and I was not bored once. We said goodbye outside the restaurant and soon after I got home he called to tell me what a nice time he'd had and looked forward to seeing me again.

Before my marriage ended I said that I would never date again. The thought gave me the willies and I was so glad to be over that particular activity. I found though, that I am a social person and I missed being around a man and started dating. I've met some delightful gentlemen, some less than stellar individuals, and a few so shy they made no impression at all. I am not one for long emails back and forth. I like to meet in person.  When someone from Michigan wrote expressing a desire to meet I said sure. If it happened, fine, but I was not holding my breath waiting.

My delightful date will be heading back to Detroit in the morning. Not holding my breath; I hope his business brings him back soon.

My job

Sometimes I get low because I have not had a paying job in quite a while. I think I am wasting life and talent and time. Today, though, I realized I do have a job. It has paid for many of my expenses and even some luxuries. That job has been to be a caretaker for my parents. It was while I was in a dressing room with the old man, tying his shoes that the epiphany happened. The old man remarked that he could not do this without me, go shopping alone. He couldn't find the racks and the fitting room and the men's room, to say nothing of actually getting to the store. He has had a lot of disdain for the way some of the elders in his building dress. I gently said to him that is why so many in his building wear the same things over and over. Some can't afford new clothes, some have nobody to take them shopping, and some can't even speak English. He had to agree.

In the car the old lady said that she was much easier than the old man. She just picked out her shoes. I said that I was the one that brought all the different styles to her, as well as the shorts and capris. She just had to sit there. She laughed and made a joke that we weren't counting that. I took them to Byerly's and the sweet waitress couldn't get their order right and the old lady acted just like a spoiled brat. The server brought some jelly and the old lady sneered, "Too late." I pointed out to her that she still had three slices of toast left so it wasn't too late and did she want it? No. Usually it is the old man who complains.

My job these past five years has been to prolong life and add quality to that life. There has been true learning and growth on both sides. The old lady has become a more appreciative person. She is no less self centered, but does realize what others do for her. The old man, who knows? It is amazing to see him shrinking before my eyes, getting so very skinny and frail. He can be clear and perceptive, but some of the time he doesn't understand what is going on and I have to repeat things until they sink in.

As with any job there has been a learning curve. At first I thought they could do more than they can and I introduced too much too soon. There have been months when I took one of them to a doctor or dentist every other day. There have been times when I blew my top and screamed. I even worked on some issues with a counselor. I will do all I can for people but being called stupid for not being a mind reader will push my red button. I don't know if my parents understand the depth and breathe of the sacrifice I have made to give them a better life. Probably not.

What have I gotten out of this? I have learned a patience that I never thought I could achieve. I have become more compassionate and accepting. I handle what is thrown at me. That is not to say I float like a lily over the muddy water. I get tossed and dirty, but not as emotional as in the past. I realize I took on a huge task without understanding what I was getting into. I did it with a firm determination and it is my task and no one else's although I do appreciate the respite my daughters, especially Eri, have given me.

As somebody who has been obsessed with time and timelines, I have learned they are artificial markers. Things take as long as they take. I thought I would be at a different place in my life at this age. I thought my parents would be dead, I would have a good job and be making a difference in this world. They say to think globally and act locally. Now I am acting on a very small stage. I haven't cured cancer, or brought clean water to a village, stopped war and taught the world to sing. But in my life I have stopped a cycle of child abuse, raised wonderful human beings, and brought comfort to some sad old people.  When I lost my job I kept saying that the right thing was out there waiting for me. Little did I realize that taking care of my thousand year old parents is the right thing for right now.

Shrek is back and Fiona is kicking it!

I liked the original Shrek and loved Shrek 2. Shrek 3 left me quite unsatisfied. I hated the whole premise of Shrek inheriting Fiona's kingdom. So it was with low expectations that I went to see Shrek, Forever After, yesterday. It was terrific! The critics gave it a C-, but I give it a big A+. One critic compared it unfavorably to It's a Wonderful Life, one of my all-time most disliked films. (Jimmy Stewart's voice gets on my nerves.) There have been many movies with the premise of what life would be like without a particular person. This one just rocks. I did not see it in 3D but that mattered not at all. I like being an observer in Far Far Away. That is all I am going to say although I don't think I could "spoil it".  If anyone wants to go see it, I will gladly go with you and enjoy myself again!

I walked out of the theater with a huge smile on my face and strolled into Chipotle still smiling. The tacos were quite delicious and everyone smiled back at me.

Take care of joy

Today I stopped at Costco to see S. I was feeling so happy and wanted to thank him for helping me. I told him I was so very happy and feeling so much joy. He was happy too. He really wanted to do the best for me and end things in a graceful way. I wound up crying and hugging him.

Someone texted me asking how I was. I told him I was the recipient of a gift. He asked what the gift was and I replied, the gift of happiness from God. Just feeling good, and peaceful and appreciative, that certainly is a gift of Grace. He said his counselor told him he should look for contentment  within.

I went on facebook to play a game and they have changed the rules. I looked for a message board and it was filled with complaints, to which I added my two cents. Then I looked at another group which was bitch, bitch, bitch. Suddenly I realized, I was not quite so happy. Surrounding myself with negativity was sucking the consciousness of joy away from me. Whoa Nelly! Back away quickly and do not get caught in that nasty mess. Surround myself with the positive and stay well away from the complainers.

"Truth is the consciousness of bliss." As true now as the day I first heard it in 1973. When I am feeling that deep seated joy, that bliss of just being alive and breathing and part of creation, I know it is true. When I am feeling anxiety, my back and stomach start to hurt. Breathing is not easy and I am in a state of dis-ease. They say, "Let go, let God," or surrender, or put your faith in the Creator. Sometimes, though, that is easier said than done.

But joy is not hard at all. The state of appreciation and contentment is relaxing and peaceful, full of creative energy and love. The only hard part is not talking oneself out of it. Yes! I deserve it, and so do you! Stop analyzing and start experiencing the joy that is available. Take tender care of joy, and joy will take tender care of you.

Happy weekend!

You might think that living in the land of 10,000 lakes one would not appreciate an OUTDOOR swimming pool. Today, at eleven in the morning a mother and her young daughter came out to go swimming. The eight year old is in the water while her mother sunbathes on the deck with just her legs in the water. The girl has mom's legs over her shoulder and says, "This might hurt, but..." and mom says, "But what?" The girl says, "But... oh well" and tries to pull her prone mother across the cement into the pool. She can't move her an inch and both laugh. I thought about all my mommy daughter trips to pools and beaches. The food, the drinks, the towels and toys, I did it all and that is the way it was and I used to think how easy it was having a lake or pool so close, not like the ordeal of going to Coney Island. But how easy is this? Put on swimsuit, lock door, go to pool.  Time for lunch? Just go back upstairs. I am very happy with my pool side view.

I used to complain about camping. It was so much work. Shopping and cooking and getting everything ready and then having to cook while camping and cleanup and when back home having a ton of laundry to do. It wasn't that I hated camping, I hated the work. It never seemed like a vacation. But in the past few years I have been camping where others did the work and I must say, it is very pleasant indeed. The last three times have been in a tent. but this time I am going in semi luxury, a pop-up camper! It is still a little bit of work getting everything ready and this is what I had to do:

Pack clothes,
Prepare salad fixins
Figure out drugs and makeup
Get books to read
Arrange for Saturday entertainment for the thousand year old parents
Put a smile on my face and love in my heart.

Now I will turn off the computer and pack it away, lock the door and go out to meet my friends. Then it is off to sit in traffic while we and everyone else beat the weekend rush. The only thing left is to wish you all a safe and happy Memorial Day weekend.

Gambling and life

This morning the nurse at assisted care called to tell me my mother was not feeling well. She did not get out of bed and said her stomach hurt. The nurse called the doctor for instructions. His nurse didn't get back to them by two o'clock so I took her to urgent care. Today the old lady looked every day of her 96 years. She put on some makeup, but forgot eyebrows, her hair was awful and she asked if she could take the walker. When we got to the clinic, I got her a wheelchair which we got quite a lot of use of. She was seen by a triage nurse, another nurse, the doctor, two lab and one x-ray tech. Does she still have a bladder infection? Is it pneumonia? Hard to say but they have started her on another dose of antibiotics. They are doing some cultures, too.

She had not eaten all day and was weak, I called for juice and that seemed to revive her. The old lady is a fighter with a strong constitution and a strong will. Although she has most of her marbles she insists that  someone gave her a pill that made her sick. She says that as soon as she took that black pill she got sick. She has no black pills. I had to remind her that she felt ill last Friday. She finally said she wants something to blame it on. She told me that as she lay in bed that morning she thought, "This is it, I am dying." We were at the clinic for nearly three hours and she kept saying I was a good daughter and I kept saying it was my pleasure to be there for her.

I feel like I am waiting for the first shoe to drop. One of them is going to die soon. I sure hope it is the old man, because he will not be able to handle losing her. I know he will have to go to Shalom Home if she dies. Everyday he calls me to find out what is on the table. Nothing Dad, I tell him. Today Laurel visited and took him to lunch. Monday Eri and I set up a new TV for the old lady. Nothing until Saturday, Dad. Now I have to figure out something for Saturday, I have been invited to go camping. Maybe the girls can take them to see Sex In The City 2. I know the old lady has been looking forward to it. She loves to look at the clothes.

I have been playing a new to me computer game called Farkle. I am pretty sure it is the same dice game that old Cousin Harriet used to play but they called it Bunco. You can play it alone or against a partner and up until now I have been playing for points. There is another option where you can play for chips if you meet certain conditions. Suddenly everyone who wants to play with a partner is playing for chips. I am not a gambler. I hate losing. But today I played for 100, 500, 1000, and 5000 chips. I won every time by careful attention and strategy. These chips mean nothing, every four hours you can play for more stash. Yet I found myself really wanting to win when thousands of chips were on the line. I got reckless, I got canny, I got sneaky. Phew, what a way to live.

For so many, many years I lived in a state of anxiety. I didn't know it until a doctor told me. When I came home and told S, he said he knew it and was surprised I didn't. Maybe it was losing my mother when I was young, or never knowing when the old man would explode, or always living on the margin, but I was always anxious. I was scared of my life unraveling and having to live in a shelter or go to jail, or something awful. In a way, that something awful has happened. But I have lived through it and I am not in jail, nor will I need to stay in a shelter. I have my health, and very much loved daughters and other family. No, I am not married. No, I am not working for wages. But I am gambling that by living each day and trying to love, I will prevail. There is no anxiety about that at all.

I want a job, and I want an income. By my actions I know I will become employed again. I also know that the end of my parent's lives are coming closer and that the comfort I provide, the availability of my presence is important. By divine grace and my efforts there will be a resolution soon.

Here is a joke that I read to the old lady while we were waiting for her prescription. I paraphrase:

An old lady was brought before the judge for shoplifting. "Mrs Kraputnik, what did you steal?" the judge asked. She explained that it was only a small can of peaches, just six peaches. The judge sentenced her to one night in jail for each peach, six peaches, six nights. As she begged for mercy Mr Kraputnik called out from the gallery, "She also stole a can of peas!"

My mother laughed until she cried.

Oceans

I took the old man and the old lady to the movies yesterday. Our choices were limited. We don't see anything with lots of explosions or violence. The old man refuses to see anything animated and most sci-fi is out. We see a lot of coming attraction trailers and the constant refrain is, "Remind me to miss that one." I told the old man I really wanted to see this nature film and he was fine with it.

First, let me talk about production values. The film was breathtakingly beautiful. Pierce Brosnan narrated and the music was lovely. It is pretty hard to make a comprehensive movie about the oceans of this world in 90 minutes, though. And after awhile it got quite soporific because there wasn't enough contrast. Pierce was always calm and erudite, the music was all of a key and for the most part the film was blue, blue, blue. The old man kept nodding off. At one point he woke up and said he did not want fish for dinner.

The memorable parts were different. Close-ups of amazing looking fish and animals kept our attention, especially when camouflaged fish would hunt. The most powerful image that persists is the very short one of man-made pollution. The sight of miles of plastic bottles and trash as seen from below was powerful, but the one that got my parents attention the most showed a shopping cart and detritus on the ocean floor. That scene was not blue, it was brown and dirty and ugly. My family have never been scuba diving or whale watching, and we don't raise tropical fish. We have been to the grocery store and the image of the cart hit home. We could relate to that and it made us ashamed for the actions of our species.

Another memorable scene showed two armies of spider crabs attacking. Suddenly hundreds and hundreds of these small creatures approach the same territory from different sides and climb all over each other. It was as stupid a battle tactic as I have ever seen. The parallels with humans could not be missed.

As I watched scene after scene of the beauty of our oceans unfold I made two goals for myself. I want to save money and go on a whale watching trip and also learn to scuba dive. I want to go under the sea and see the wonders of our ocean. Yah mon, Jamaica in January watching the pretty fishes sounds good to me. I'd better get a job.

My favorite virtue

I was lying in bed, awake and aware at 4:20 and thinking about kindness. Without doubt it is my favorite virtue. "But what about generosity?" I asked myself. One can be generous for many reasons without being kind. Kind can be generous, but it might also withhold giving for the kindest of reasons. I love Truth, Justice, Honesty, Strength, and all the others. They are the ideals we strive towards. But Kindness is not an ideal, it is a way of living that knows no other.

I have noticed in myself and others that when a task is naturally easy we tend to brush off acknowledgment of it's worth. We give a compliment and the other will say something like it's nothing, no big deal, I enjoy doing it, think nothing of it, etc. The action is part of us, like breathing. So it is with kindness and generosity of spirit.

When it became very clear that my long marriage was going to end I made one demand. I wasn't giving up his family. For many years I have been closer to them than my own parents. They are kind people who don't think about being kind, they just are. That is not to say we haven't had our disagreements over the years; of course we have. What matters in the end is the loving acceptance of who we are and the appreciation of that bond.

I am not an exact person. Consequently some of my projects do not get the attention to detail necessary for success. I've learned not to cut fabric for curtains. I love blown glass and know that is a craft for me to admire from afar. My sister-in-law is a very exact person. For years I admired her bookkeeping skills. She would keep a journal of all expenses and it made her happy. We had children who started school the same year and although I bought the same number of school pictures, she was able to keep track of the portraits of four children and frame thirteen years for each. I have no idea where mine are. One day she told me how much she enjoyed painting. I mentioned that I hated the "cutting in" detail. I always got paint on the ceiling. She told me that she liked doing it.

So out of innate kindness and generosity of spirit she came over Sunday night and did the cutting in on the kitchen and bathroom. We talked while she painted and I intermittently worked at getting up the old linoleum. One funny thing I observed is that she watched "The Biggest Loser" reality show and I watched "America's Top Model". The thin watched the fat and the heavy watched the skinny. We talked movies and food and family. I kept thanking her. It was wonderful to me that she was doing an onerous task with such equanimity.

Today I did the roller part of the painting. Wouldn't you know it? I got paint on the ceiling and tiles. (I cleaned it up immediately!) I'm not sure if I love the color; time will tell. Now I am thinking about the rest of the dining and living space. A soft yellowish beige might be perfect. She says she will come back again and do the cutting in. That depth of kindness blows me away. To her, though, it just comes naturally.

The view of two forty year old men

Work on the condo is going great guns! Sheetrock and sanding is done, time to prime because the cabinets will be here Tuesday! Three weeks early! The economy is bad for the building trade but great for the home improver.

Tony has been here every day this week. He put up the wall board and has done all the mudding and sanding. What a mess, a beautifully well-done dusty mess. We got to talking about kids. He has four, three boys and a girl and he says the girl is harder than all three boys put together. He despairs of her learning about responsibility. Turns out, he has never given her any, daddy mops up all spills. I don't think you can blame a kid for going over limit if she doesn't have to do the reconciling or pay the fees. We talked about family placement. It turns out Tony is the middle child. I'm a middle child too. At first he wouldn't tell me how many brothers and sisters he had. He is the middle child of SEVENTEEN! Seven women, two of whom his father married and most REMAIN FRIENDS! Tony's mother ran off when he was five and his father and whatever girlfriend of the moment was living with him raised Tony and whatever other kids were there. Sometimes two women would be living there, sometimes none. He learned to call them Mama Mary, Mama Marie, etc. I said that his father must be extremely charismatic and he just laughed. I asked how the other women dealt with it. His father told him, "A woman can deal with any truth better than a lie." I guess so.

I'd been flirting with a man online and last evening we met for a drink. We met at the W downtown and soon left. I could not handle the noise. We went across the street to the 8th St Pub and sat outside in relative quiet. (If you can call traffic zipping by quiet.) One of the things I won't do is meet a man in a relationship. I do not want to hurt another woman. If he lives apart, as S and I do, that is different. So we established he wasn't married, and he liked being with older women. It was just a drink. Guess what, oh, you've guessed it. He is not married but has lived together with his girlfriend for eight years. Does she know he dates? She might suspect he said. Is she OK with that? They don't talk about it. To give him credit, he doesn't say she doesn't appreciate him or anything like that. She is a flight attendant and he gets lonely when she is gone.

This was a very good looking, well dressed, forty year old professional man. He saw a crazy picture of me dancing (from Eri's wedding) and was attracted. I am not desperate, there are plenty of men who find me attractive, old and round as I am. I don't care that this man is in a relationship other than he lied to me. The fact is he is also lying to himself and his partner. I can meet a man in a relationship for a drink, knowing that it is only a drink. That is why I always insist on meeting in a public place. I'm not a fool or an idiot.

So on one hand, here is hard working Tony, raised in a very non-traditional household, working class, and covered with dust, and on the other professional Philippe, oozing charm and money. I don't want a relationship with either, but there is only one with whom I would ever consider being friends. If anyone wants an HONEST, hard working, sheet rock man, I have Tony's number. If you want to meet Philippe, just turn over a rock, or maybe a marble slab.

Karaoke emotions

if you had asked me a few years ago if I would ever sing Karaoke, I would have said you were out of your mind if you thought I would even be in the same place as Karaoke. But when I joined a group that met on Tuesdays I was introduced to the doubtful pleasure of singing out loud in front of people. In the movie "My Best Friend's Wedding" Julia Roberts manipulates Cameron Diaz into singing a love song to her fiance, hoping it would turn him off and he would realize he loved Julia, not Cameron. But with tears of love, Cameron sings, quite awfully, to her love and he loves her even more.

Well, of that whole scenario, the only thing I have in common with Cameron Diaz is awful singing. The first time I tried it I had to have a friend sing with me and I nearly soaked my shirt with sweat. A year later, I get up with confidence and still sing rather awfully, and have a good time. Tonight I sang Bonnie Raitt's "Nick of Time." I really love that song. I love the rhythm and melody (when I can find it) and the lyrics. They really touch me. She talks about watching her parents grow old and them watching her grow old, too. Then she sings about when she had cried all she could cry and had given up, love found her, just in the nick of time. One woman sang two Judd's songs that I really like. When she sang "Mama he's crazy, and in my life is where he wants to be, I've never been so loved, he beats all I've ever seen, Mama he's crazy, crazy over me", I know that is what I want and that I won't settle for less. When she sang "Grandpa, tell me about the good old days," I remembered driving from Burnsville to Jordan with that song playing and little Eri singing along. I felt I was living that good life where daddies never went away. I remember being thankful for my life.

Today, I am more sure than ever that when I fall in love, if ever, it will have to be with someone who is crazy over me. I like my own company and am not scared of being alone. I miss dancing with my best friend, and laughing, and having a goal with a partner. That is too bad. It is not the end of the world, just the end of an era. Maybe I will find new people to laugh with, not just one. Maybe I will find a new group to dance with, not just one. Maybe working with others I will find a new goal that brings joy through effort.

I read inspirational quotes. I try to take them to heart. I know this life was made for joy, happiness, bliss, and serving the Creator and creation. I'm not going to be "scared to allow the time." I know that if I ever find love again it will be "in the nick of time" and it will be with someone who is "crazy over me." No fear, no fear.

Mothers Day

Several years ago I was at a very low point in my life. I was looking for something to do to continue living. I had lost my helping job, my children were grown and gone and my husband did not want any of my nurturing. I defined myself by what I could give others and there didn't seem to be any other part of me. I went to a class and the teacher told me I had some serious self-deficiencies.

After our healing ceremony, I started to date. I was so starved for attention and fun and touch that I nearly exploded when a very nice man kissed me. He broke up with me within a week and I had to ask myself why I felt so sad. It wasn't because I was in love with him, not at all. I was having FUN for the first time in years. The last time I had that much fun was protesting through a Wal-Mart store in St. Paul. When I realized I needed fun in my life, I started seeking it.

I did a lot of dating and had a lot of fun. I realized I was so much more than a mother, I was a beautiful, if rounded, woman worthy of desire and I had a lot to give. It was wonderfully liberating and broke the chains of just being the helping mother. I rediscovered my femininity and other sides to my personality. It has been fun, but also sobering. Being a single woman at 58 is a much different experience than when I was young. I have so much more to discover about the woman that I am, and much of it includes learning to appreciate being alone.

Recently I have had the good fortune to be with a five month old, three toddlers and a three year old. I loved almost every moment of holding that baby, playing with those toddlers and talking to the big boy. My own dear daughter came over to color my hair. I still relish being a mother and know that part of me is alive and well. But now I know that being a mother means more than that nurturing. I know being a successful mother is being a whole woman.

Bravo to you my friends and readers for all you do for others and for what you do for yourself. Happy Mothers Day!

My interpretation of that funny dream

It occurs to me that I can interpret my dreams as well as anyone else in a way that makes sense to me if I put my mind to it.

I have been thinking about my dream where the old lady happily shrinks away and the old man is looking for a place to plug in an electrical recharger. As the old lady ages and gets smaller, she is remarkably happy. Tell her she looks good and her day is made. She has always said that she doesn't want to live to be a hundred. She is shrinking, her world is shrinking, she is losing her short term memory and is ready to die when it happens. In my life her presence makes less of an impact and I will neither miss or not miss her when she is gone. It will be an end and a finish. She lost the power to hurt me. I never really invested in her.

The old man is quite different. He is hanging on to life with every ounce of being. He is confused and scared and who knows what else? He does not want to die and would rather be bedridden with no quality of life, should that happen, than die. Of course he is looking for that outlet for energy. The surprising thing is how I enable him. I help him look, crawling on floors, reaching for outlets. I say I want him to die, but I wonder, does my subconscious agree?

Funny dreams

The electricians were here today. I hid out in the "party" room upstairs. I thought I could use my computer but because I had no electricity for the router from my place for the internet, I wound up just resting on a couch and dozing. I had some doozy dreams.

The old man was in a nursing home and I would come visit. Somehow or the other he was in a double bed with some stranger. The old lady came to visit and she was only about three feet tall. "Ma," I shouted, "How did you get so short?" She laughed up at me and said, "I don't know. Am I short?" We went looking for the old man who was trying to find an outlet for a rechargeable something. I saw myself trying to reach across counters to plug in, crawling on the floor looking for an outlet. Suddenly S was there too and I was introducing myself as Carol Sandberg, daughter of Sidney Smoller but the nurse was thinking S was my father. But what was it all about? Teeth! The old man needed his old bridge fixed and suddenly my gold teeth were loose too. I was flipping out because I could not afford new teeth and such. Oy, oy, oy. But then I said I will charge them and went ahead and answered the phone which woke me up and heard the electrician say they were done.

So what does it mean? Probably nothing.

What a funny way to spend the day!

God on the elephant

There is a story from India about a holy man walking down the street. He saw a rogue elephant coming at him but wasn't worried because he knew God would protect him. On top of the elephant the driver was yelling "Get out of the road!!!" but the holy man continued knowing that God would protect him. The elephant trampled him and as he was lying there his rescuers asked why he didn't get out of the road. Didn't he hear the warnings from the elephant's trainer? The man said he thought God would protect him. He was told "That was God talking to you from the back of the elephant!"

Today, I felt like God bringing a message. I sat at a picnic table to enjoy a soft drink outside a store. There was an older couple and a bit younger woman with them and we talked about how 57 degrees could feel warm or cold, it was all in one's perspective. One thing led to another and the younger woman talked about having breast cancer. She was a one year survivor and wanted to die. I talked to her about both my mothers who had cancer. One died at age 42 and the other is a 30 year survivor at age 96. She just wanted to die. I asked her why she was so selfish. She didn't understand. I asked why she wanted to hurt her mother and father and daughter? Why would she deny her grandchildren a grandmother. She thought her life was worthless and I told her that God had put me there at that table today to tell her to work through her despair and become a stronger women and find her destiny. She was meant to inspire others. She hadn't, at age 40, begun to achieve her potential. and on it went. Her parents were quite happy but the woman said she just wanted to die. I said that she should do it soon to put everyone out of her misery and said to her parents that maybe she needed to go to a mental hospital. She had already been. After my drink I had to leave and I said to her that there was a reason I sat at her table today. It was to tell her to work on getting better and enjoying life.

Mental illness/health is such a hard thing. It is hard to get good care. It is hard to get holistic care. I do not know the answer.

Of course after feeling all spiritual and clean and wise I had to blow it. I had to see how very far there is still left to go. Hubris is a killer. Thanks for the wake-up call! I'll tell you what happened. I took the old man and lady to the movies this afternoon. We saw an absolutely wonderful film called City Island. We all enjoyed it immensely. Funny and hopeful and so real to life. Andy Garcia was amazing, as was the whole cast. As we were going to the elevator the old man got nastier and nastier. We got off on the mezzanine and he screamed he was going to pee in his pants. Well, there went my good mood. There went my happiness, I was pissed. Why didn't he just say he needed to use the men's room? Why did he have to put us down for discussing the movie? Why could he be scathing and not be able to just say let's hurry to the men's room. So when he came out I let him have it. I yelled at him for being so nasty and ruining my good time. He was fine, but I was a mess.

I thought we would go around the corner to a nice restaurant and on the way there the old lady got faint. It scared me. I could not carry her and there was no place for her to sit. Eventually we made it to the place. She had to sit down and rest and eventually felt like she could eat. A large Coca Cola helped restore her blood sugar and equilibrium. She kept saying how much better she felt.

So God in the guise of my thousand year old parents has spoken to me. Have patience with these old people. Have understanding of their frailties. Be the person I want to be, not just the mouthpiece. It is not enough to talk the talk, but I have to walk the walk of loving.