Saying Goodbye

I have two older sisters and one of my sisters is dying.  When I received the call I was torn on whether I should even go to the hospital to say goodbye because there are so many harsh feelings between us.  The hospice nurse had called my oldest sister and said that initially she hadn’t wanted either of us to know how ill she is. Apparently the hospice nurse convinced her that she should let family be with her.  Once I decided to go, I realized that this visit would be a final goodbye but it is also the first hello we have said to each other in more than a decade. 

 

The three of us have always struggled to maintain any type of relationship.  I was born when both of my sisters were in High School.   For years I wondered if the age difference was the cause of our lack of bonding but, if I am being honest with myself, it isn’t.  We are just very different people. 

 

My oldest sister was very religious and married right outside of High School because getting married right outside of High School is what women were expected to do in the early 1960’s.  The other sister was a feminist who immediately began working and going to night school.  While one sister was preaching marriage and submission to her man, the other was picketing for equality in the workplace and extolling the virtues of the birth control pill.  There were clashes between them but somehow they managed to maintain a fragile relationship over the years.

 

I am different from my two sisters because I march to my own beat. Perhaps we don’t bond because they don’t understand me or maybe they can't accept me. The constant criticism to my face and behind my back is what caused me to distance myself from one sister while bouts of anger and alcohol caused me to distance myself from the other.  One sister criticizes me because I don’t attend church on a regular basis or the towels in my bathroom are not the right shade of lavender, the other one cared more about her addictions and anger than she cared about her family.  I always wished things were different with us but, whether it is the age difference or the lack of common ground, we have struggled to maintain any type of friendship at all for as long as I can remember. 

However, life is a series of constant changes. Today my oldest sister is embracing her feminist side while the sister who is dying chose to let her anger and her addictions guide her down a less desirable path, a path which ended up hurting so many people.  My mother always tried to protect her and ended up getting hurt both physically and emotionally on more than one occasion.  This is where my struggle to forgive comes from. I decided to make the trip but it was as much for myself as it was for her.  This trip wasn’t just about saying good bye, it was about forgiveness too.

 

I drove the familiar highway toward my home town and began to search for memories of a happier time.  My sister wasn’t always an angry alcoholic who was being treated for whatever mental illness deemed to be trendy at the moment.   She is intelligent, well educated, and at one time she was very successful.  Her decline didn’t actually begin until her mid-forties but, since she never does anything half way, she didn’t slowly slide downhill stopping to enjoy the scenery on her decline. It was like she booked a ticket to hell on the Concord so she could get there as fast as she could and hurt as many people as she could along the way. 

 

They warned me that she was gaunt but I was still unprepared for the skeletal form on the bed that vaguely resembled my sister.  We had some awkward conversation and some awkward silence until I heard her say, “Cheryl, I am so sorry.  It was the alcohol and the mental issues but I was going to group therapy to get better.  I am so sorry.”  I have heard her say I am sorry combined with her excuses so many times before but her repentance never lasted.  This time I heard the words and forgiveness was easy.  I realized that this will be her last apology and it is my last opportunity to forgive.

I looked at her and told her that I wish things had been different. Then I asked, “Remember Beulah?”  She got this big grin on her face.  “I was thinking about Beulah when I drove up here.  How many times did you lose Beulah and have everyone looking around for your pet, only to be astonished when they discovered it was a hairpiece (that you named Beulah) which had fallen out?”  For the first time since I arrived we both laughed over a shared memory. 

I will go back again to see her as often as time allows before she goes.  She has given me her apology, and I have given her my forgiveness.  I told her I love her, and I do  because  I love the sister who named her hairpiece, took me to the store to buy a huge Hershey’s chocolate bar to share, loves animals, taught me how to put on mascara, and always called me for help because she can’t cook.  I will go back because she is my sister, because seeing her suffering just rips my insides out, and because I can't bear to think of her dying alone and unloved.

 

 

The Art of Listening

Communication is an exchange of information but too often folks are so focused on speaking that they forget that communication is also about listening.  Many years ago I received some valuable advice from a wise person who told me that a successful conversation begins and ends with attentive listening.  Years later I read somewhere that when we actively listen to what is being said, we engage and connect; but most people are not truly engaged in the message because they are thinking about how to respond.   Since hearing this, I have tried to be a better listener.  As a result, I have discovered that listening is easier than talking and a conversation reveals extraordinary stories about ordinary people. 

 “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.”

Steven R Covey

For example, many years ago I was actively listening to an elderly woman talk about her life experiences. She was showing me some old photos from her High School years and one person seemed oddly familiar.  When I mentioned it she told me that his name was Marion Morrison. She said “He was this big shy guy who was clumsy and awkward.  We were all so surprised when he became a successful actor!”  I told her that I had never heard of a Marion Morrison.  She laughed and said, “Oh no honey!  His stage name was John Wayne.” 

 

A group of us recently went to this little lounge to dance, talk, drink wine, and listen to karaoke.  I didn’t know one of the ladies in our group very well but found myself sitting beside her.   We began with the small talk and some awkward conversation to try and find common ground until we discovered that our common ground was food and family.   To my surprise, she turns out to be more than 20 years older than I am but you wouldn’t know it to look at her.  She puts herself together so well and is so full of life that I had just assumed she was much younger.   When I shared my assumptions she told me that “Life is meant to be lived and we should treasure every moment of it.  My husband taught me this.”  I learned that she was born in Buffalo NY but raised in Italy, where she met her husband.  They later returned to Buffalo New York and then retired to Mesa, AZ.  Her husband passed away but he was an artist who is well known in certain circles and some of his pictures are in museums.  As she shared pictures from her phone she showed me a link that had a brief biography of her husband’s life and showcased his art.  Some of the art was very dark and disturbing but other pieces were happy pieces, sketches of landscapes and landmarks. I mentioned the distinct difference between the two and then listened with rapt attention as she began to share the most amazing story.   

 

Her parents were Italian immigrants who came to Buffalo NY but returned to Italy when she was a young.   She and her husband met in Italy.  He was quite a bit older plus he had just come from Russia where he had been imprisoned for almost 20 years in the Soviet prison Gulag. Gulag was all about hard labor but he had a degree in art so he learned to do tattoos, which is one of the reasons he survived.   I sat enthralled as she talked about how her husband had been imprisoned for attempting to immigrate out of Russia and was labeled a traitor. She shared his stories with me and we talked about her life in Europe during a time when Stalin was in power and Mussolini still had influence.  Her husband was imprisoned under the Stalin regime, after his release it took another three years before he was able to leave Russia.  From Russia, he travelled to Italy where he met my new friend and married her.  Eventually they returned to Buffalo NY and they were so grateful once they set foot on US soil that they began to cry.  Her husband’s love of the United States is the reason that there are so many pictures of New York buildings and landmarks.  She shared a link with me that showed some of his art renderings based on memories of that dark time in Gulag Prison.  Some of the stories she shared were the inspiration for these pieces and the darkness of those memories can be seen in his art.   Suddenly she said, “He passed away in 1997 but he was older than I am. Although I miss him dearly, he taught me that life is for living so we should treasure every minute.” Then she encouraged us all to dance.

 

At home I pulled up the link  (www.sgovio.com) to look at the art again and recalled some of the stories that she had shared with me.  I searched Google and found links on the internet, including a short Wikipedia profile of his life.  It was apparent that he was communicating his story through his art.

 

How we communicate with ourselves and with others ultimately determines the quality of our lives.

 

Anthony Robbins

 

 I mentioned the conversation to the friend who had introduced her to our group and she replied with surprise, “She has never shared that with me. 

I just smiled and said “ All I did was listen.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Those Milestone Moments

My mother just celebrated her 88^th birthday. Eighty eight is a milestone in my book so  I gave her a bouquet of roses and a small broach shaped like a lady bug.  The bug pin is something that binds the two of us to a milestone memory from a lifetime ago.   Her delight as she saw the pin was special to me because, even though Alzheimer disease is claiming her memories one by one, there are some memories that she has refused to surrender to this awful disease.

 

“People that care neither for its youth nor for its older people has no future.  Young people take society into the future, while the older generation gives society its memory and its wisdom." Pope Francis

Milestone memories are not always about the big vacations or the special events. They are simply moments that mark a special place in this journey we call life.  We are born and we die but it is the defining moments between those two events that make the journey special which is one more reason why I feel that Alzheimer disease is so devastating.

While my daughter was visiting we took a long overdue family vacation.   We  rented a condo on the beach within a short drive of many of the tourist attractions that appeal to children of all ages.  My daughter and I left a couple of days before my son’s family so we could take in some sight-seeing on our own.  We found a cute little Italian restaurant for dinner that served lobster ravioli and listened to live music from a nearby park.  There were exploration trips and walks to look at the art galleries.  We found an old house on the beach that had been turned into a restaurant. The next morning we had a breakfast there that consisted of some amazing French toast, omelets, fresh squeezed juice, and coffee while enjoying the perfect ocean view.  On a whim, we took a two hour tour on an amphibious bus which drove us around the city and then drove directly into the water, converting into a boat, to give us a tour of the harbor.  

 

 

My son has two small children so when his family arrived at the condo they entered like a hurricane.  After the beach we went to a great little fish taco place that we saw nearby and had some amazing fish tacos. The following morning we went back for another amazing breakfast and our days were filled with adventures to Lego Land, the beach, Birch Aquarium, and Scripps Institute. After several days of nonstop activities and great restaurants everyone was ready for some something a little less intense. The Villa where we were staying had a roof top swimming pool with grills and tables so my son suggested that we grill our own food and swim.  That evening was spent with good food,  children happily splashing in the pool, and good conversation as we watched the sun go down over the ocean.  It was a perfect ending to a perfect family vacation.

 

  

 

In this day of technology it is  easy to avoid actively engaging with others by circumventing our communication through technology, or outsourcing the one on one experience through extra-curricular activities.   We are all busy but I feel we have lost sight of how important it is to make time to connect and actually be present so we can create opportunities which give birth to those milestone moments.  I tend to rely on technology to communicate more than I should sometimes but, as I grow older, I have begun to understand the importance of simply spending face time with those I care about.   No matter how efficient technology becomes there will never be a suitable substitute for engaging people in eye contact and conversation.  Our vacation is over but what we talked about the most was when we had breakfasts by the ocean and the dinner by the pool.

People may not remember what you did or said but they will always remember how you made them feel.” Maya Angelou

On my mother’s birthday I was showing her the photos knowing that by the following morning she wouldn’t remember the conversation.  Mom is fascinated by my smart phone so each time I visit I pull it out to show her pictures and some of the phone's features. Although each lesson is the same to me,her failing memory makes it a new experience for her every time.  My objective isn't about the phone, it is to about keeping her involved and feeling cared about.  I have discovered that she may not remember the event, but she remembers how she felt. Recently she mentioned Christmas and asked “Cheryl, did we have Christmas at your house?”  I confirmed that we did and asked her if she remembered it.  Her answer was sad as she said “No, my memory is so bad but I remember it being such a happy time."

Since it was her birthday she let me take a picture of us and was delighted with the concept of a 'selfie.'  I had to retake the picture several times until she was satisfied with the result but I was happy to see her so engaged in the process.  On my next visit I plan to show her a picture of us on her birthday and see if it evokes any memory based on how it made her feel. 

 

On my last night in California, the grandchildren were watching television before bed when my granddaughter suddenly said “Nana, remember the movies with green grapes and popcorn?”  I said, “Yes, I do.”  She gave me a big smile. Everyone else looked a little confused but she and I knew what she meant and that is all that counted to us.  Little James suddenly looked into space and gave a huge sigh before saying “Nana, remember when we were at your house and made popcorn balls? “  I told him that I did. He gave another big sigh and said “That was so fun!”  I got all warm and fuzzy for a moment as I realized that those were milestone memories for them and I was part of it.  A few minutes later my daughter was teasing my granddaughter about something when I heard her ask in surprise, “Did you just call me Missy May?”  My granddaughter just looked at me with a mischievious look and a huge smile.  I smiled right back with a look of understanding while my daughter just looked confused so I said “She got that from me."   

 

What I am trying to say is that the event is irrelevant.  Time with family, letting my granddaughter take a selfie of us with my phone,  watching little James as he patiently lets Nana snap a photo before he dashes off to the beach with the others, or giving my mother a broach shaped like a ladybug are all opportunities to create a milestone moment.  Each milestone moment is a treasure. These moments are like the return on our investment, the investment of the time we spend actively engaging with those we love.

 

Life Is Too Short To Worry About Mayonnaise

I usually put people into one of two categories.  The first group strives for excellence but they don’t worry about inconsequential details. If you ask this group what they had for lunch the answer will be quick at to the point. These folks have a ‘just the facts ma am’ mentality and the only detail about their lunch would probably be their opinion on the food quality.  The second group compartmentalizes and over analyzes absolutely everything. This group not only worries about the factual details, they also spend a great deal of time worrying about what could happen.    If you ask them what they had for lunch they will describe their turkey sandwich in great detail and share their opinion about everything right down to the quality of the mayonnaise.  I happen to be part of the former group because I believe that life is too short to worry about mayonnaise.

 

Recently I  have been pondering some religious attitudes and the way some religious leaders overthink the process. Church and religion are supposed to be about people coming together as a group to worship a God of Love but the more religious views I hear, the more I feel that Christians have tried to over think the process. In other words,  it seems as though certain folks are so focused on the mayonnaise that they have lost sight of how delicious the lunch is. 

 

I was fortunate to have been raised by parents who encouraged me to be my own unique self.  Since I tend to be a progressive thinker and a bit of a rebel, I am certain that my parents didn't have an easy time raising me. However, as long as my moral compass was engaged my mother and my father accepted that these traits are what makes me …me.  I am grateful to my parents for giving me the autonomy to  be my authentic self but in my college years I lived near a relative who likes to focus on the mayonnaise.  The thing about mayonnaise people is that they spend an inordinate amount of effort trying to compartmentalize every aspect of life to fit their expectations. Anyone who lives life outside of their self-imposed compartments will inevitably fall short of their expectations only to be shunned from the group and gossiped about.  These relatives considered me to be too worldly.  Their critical view of me made me question my own authenticity solely because I wasn't living up to their expectations.  Before long I realized that I was being judged, not because I was doing anything wrong, but simply because I wasn't living life by their rules. Basically, they ostracized me because I wasn’t focusing on their brand of mayonnaise.  Although  I didn't realize it at the time, when they shunned me it was a blessing in disguise.    The short story is that these folks followed a strict religious doctrine and my religious views didn't align with theirs. I tried to live up to their expectations without succeeding which caused me to question my own value.  It was a vicious circle so when they eventually shunned me, it set me free. 

 

Perhaps this is why I like to watch and read things that will remind me that  when my preferred brand of mayonnaise is not  the same brand as someone else's it doesn't diminish my value.  The Ted Talk videos inspire me because these videos have speakers who accomplished amazing things by not limiting themselves to the expectations of others.  An article in the Huffington Post written by Brenee Brown defines the danger of expectations clearly; "Well-meaning but unchecked expectations are loaded with potential shame and resentment bombs:   "I'll have fun at the party if I'm different from the way I am now. I'm not enough." or"I'll feel good about myself if other people notice me. My self-worth is riding on my ability to control other people's behavior."   Her words sum it all up.  If we try to define our lives by someone else's standards we sacrifice our authenticity. 

The bible says that we should love one another and that 'thou shalt not judge 'but Christians are notorious for claiming that they don't judge as they simultaneously set rigid expectations that everyone else is supposed to live up to in order to gain acceptance.  This approach is causing Christianity to be scrutinized very closely these days. The news articles I have seen are now using adjectives like rigid, biased, misogyny and pernicious to describe religious views.  These are harsh words and I think these references should be a wake up call to all of the religious over thinkers.  As Christians, we should remain mindful that our words and actions can either be the first step in igniting the power in others or the first step in disabling someone’s spirit.  

 

Webster’s Dictionary defines religion as a “system of worship to a God or Gods.” My interpretation of this definition is that religion is not God.  Religion is merely a gathering of people with shared values seeking to honor the same God. What I experienced many years ago, and what I see exhibited by some Christian groups today,  is a belief system that is so rigid that the primary focus has deviated from honoring God into  a ‘my way or the highway’ approach which encourages exclusion for anyone who prefers a different brand of mayonnaise.  I personally feel that it is time for Christians stop monitoring to see if others are living up to a set of self imposed expectations and simply keep the focus on developing a spirit of love, acceptance, and forgiveness. 

 

 

I attend church from time to time and I pray daily, but I worship God. I do not worship a church. I do not worship a religion. God gives us the free will to accept or deny him regardless of age, gender, race, ethnicity, or sexual orientation.  God doesn't discriminate and  he knows that we are imperfect. His understanding of our propensity for sin is why he sent his son to create a way for mankind to move beyond our sin and get closer to him through  prayer and forgiveness. The bible says that God looks at what is in our hearts while the expectations established by mankind are merely the rules of man, not God. I simply believe that God also feels that life is too just short to worry about the mayonnaise.

Getting Back to Real

 

I recently took a week off for no particular reason other than the fact that I desperately needed a break.  One of my many faults is that I allow myself to become so busy that I focus only on what needs to be done as I scramble to schedule a few minutes of time for living each day. Therefore,  I didn’t want to have a schedule during my time off. My only objective was to relax and accomplish items on my task list without worrying about my outlook calendar.  It felt so indulgent to  have the luxury of focusing on what I wanted to accomplish and then follow through at my leisure without worrying about schedules and deadlines.   The sense of freedom can be a powerful emotion and I felt a tremendous sense of freedom the entire week.

 

My plan was to try to complete a list of tasks that needed to be done, do some shopping, and spend time with family and friends.   Toward the end of my time off I took a look at what was left to be done and was shocked when I realized that the task list which had seemed so intimidating a few days before was almost complete. Apparently I had been viewing my ‘to do’ list from a perspective rooted in my busy schedule and that had made things look more problematic than they actually were. 

 

I emerged from my week of freedom and caught up on the news. The news was full of cruelty and war so I switched to the entertainment section which wasn’t any better because it was filled with gossip and criticism. 

It seems as though being mean to others has become the new normal and the spirit of meanness is reflected in every facet of our society.  Bullying is a  serious concern in schools, an attitude of mean indifference is apparent as we watch children attempt to murder with no remorse, animals are tortured by people who have no respect for living things, and corporate conglomerates destroy the earth as they pour poison into our environment at an alarming rate even though cancer and other life threatening conditions are increasing to the point of being a common household conversation. Taking a break from the media raised my awareness on how indifferent the world has become.

 

A song on the radio by Pearl Jam called In Hiding reminded me of a friend who is a  huge fan of Pearl Jam.  He talks endlessly about the band and their music so I end up absorbing tidbits of information through sheer osmosis.  The song In Hiding was influenced by the writings of Charles Bukowski. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam was asked about the meaning of the song In Hiding in an interview and he said,

 

"The song was about taking a fast from life, doing anything to get yourself back in touch with something real. Abstinence from anything is cool, because the normalcy of life is deceptive: It's enjoyable for a while, and there are good moments, but sometimes that's not enough. You start questioning what's the point."

Interview with Eddie Vedder

Philadelphia inquirer 1998.

 

 

I think Eddie Vedder was onto something. After taking a week of fasting from my day to day routine I can see how easy it is to allow our lives become so saturated with the business of life, the cruelty in the news, the negativity of the gossip columns that it desensitizes us,  My week of vacation without a schedule was my way of fasting from life so I could reconnect with 'something real.'

 

To be honest, I really don't care for the music of Pearl Jam but their lyrics have been the subject of some great conversations with my friends.  I also like the spirit of their music even if I don't care for the music itself and I have enjoyed some of the literature that influenced their music, which is why I read  Daniel Quinn's  novel Ishmael which was the inspiration for the song  Do The Evolution by Pearl Jam.

 

Daniel  Quinn’s message is that mankind believes that they are the center of the Universe, discounting the value of other species. Quinn seeks to challenge this idea by speaking from the perspective of a Gorilla. He refers to Totalitarian Agriculture, which is defined as the notion that all food on the planet belongs exclusively to humans. He also references The Great Forgetting, which is a theory that society ignores the fact that humans are but one biological species among a whole community of biological species and that we are only one part of the system of life. Since life itself is not dependent on humans, then humans cannot be exempted from the biological system of life yet mankind acts as though the world was created exclusively for man alone while placing both industry and economy as the force for their existence. This forces people into a system that stifles and devalues both the system of life and a person’s individuality.  Eventually people end up becoming just a cog in the machine.

 

What started me thinking about the book was when I heard Pearl Jam's song on the radio. The song was like a reminder that I have become too caught up with my ambition to succeed and, in doing so, I risk becoming just another cog in the machine.

 

A week off, a song on the radio, and memories of a book I read long ago reminds me that we humans are only one part of this circle of life, we are not the circle itself. 

 

 This was a productive vacation. Not only did I complete the items on my task list but I revisited a few basic truths about life: 

• I like my job but my work is what I do, not who I am.
• My self-worth is not defined by the results of my productivity,  by the house I own, my social status, or the balance in my bank account. 
• Sometimes it is necessary to take a fast from my routine so I can reconnect with my own life.
• I am simply one part of the circle of life and the circle does not revolve around me The  circle is made up of many parts. 

 

In the beginning of the book Ishmael,(the Gorilla) asks “With man gone, is there hope for Gorilla?”  At the end of the book, the Ishmael asks “With Gorilla gone is there hope for man?”

 

In an effort keep my perspective, I posted  my own sign with two questions on a wall  where I will see it every day to remind me of where I fit in the big picture. Hopefully this will help me stay in touch with what is real until my next vacation break.

 

Can the world survive without man?

 

Can man survive without the world?

 

Mothers Day Moments

Sunday was Mother’s Day. For many it was a day of celebration, for some it is painful, and for me it was both.  

Two weeks before Mothers Day the residence where my mother lives sent fliers to announce that they were hosting a formal Mother’s Day brunch. I made the reservations for  my sister and I to join mom for the brunch. My mother was so excited  but she was afraid that she would forget. To help  remember, she taped the flier to her walker and kept it there for the entire two weeks to  remind herself of the upcoming event. Each time I would visit her she would point to the flier and ask me, “Did I miss this? I know my memory isn’t good and I don’t want to miss it!”  I would say “No, the day hasn’t arrived yet.”  Then I would assure her that my sister and I would both be with her on that day and we would look at the calendar to count off the days.  With each visit she would tell me, “You won’t let me miss it will you Cheryl?”  I would hug her and say “No, I wouldn’t miss spending time with you on this day for anything.”

Mom and I many Years Ago

 

People who suffer from Alzheimer Disease do not handle a disruption in routine very well. When Mother’s Day arrived, mom was excited and abnormally cooperative with her caregivers. I arrived in time to help her with her hair but once we went downstairs the confusion began to set in.  She saw the banquet hall and turned to ask me, “I know that this is a special day but I can’t remember.  Is it Thanksgiving?”  When I told her what day it was she thought for moment and nodded before following me to our table.  We had a wonderful brunch and my mother was so happy that I was suddenly overcome with a sense of sadness as I thought of all of the Mother Day brunches we missed because of petty feuds and stubborn attitudes. 

Mom and I* May 2014

 

For as long as I can remember, my children would make me a brunch on Mother’s Day but my children are now grown with lives of their own.  Although they always make me feel special, I miss waking up to the smell of coffee and the sight of them working in the kitchen to “surprise” me with an elaborate brunch.  My daughter is working overseas and but I received a call and she sent me the Happy Mother’s Day messages.  My son called in the morning and came by after he got off of work to give me a card and take me to dinner.  In spite of their absence that morning,  I woke up and had coffee in a mug that they gave me on their very first Mother’s Day brunch, a brunch that consisted of toast, fruit, and coffee because they were not old enough to use the stove. As I sipped the coffee from my special mug I still felt the love as I enjoyed memories of previous Mother’s Day breakfasts when I would see them prepare the meal together. 

 My babies and I.  Hong Kong 1993

 

 

I began to search my memory for what I did to make my mother feel special on Mother’s Day.  Although I remember cards and gifts I don’t recall actually doing anything out of the ordinary.  Of course, my mom never did more than the minimum on holidays herself.  All relationships, even the mother daughter ones, take two people to be successful.  It occurred to me that at some point  in our life the statute of limitations for blaming our parents and dysfunctional family dynamics as a contributing factor for our own personal setbacks has an expiration date.  To quote the line from the movie Frozen, “Let it go. Let it go!”  I realized that I may never be the version of myself that my mother wanted me to be but I genuinely like the person I have become and I think she likes who I have become too.  What is more important is that I have learned to leave the past in the past which frees me to enjoy every precious moment right now.

 

I think people tend to forget that our parents are just imperfect people with needs and feelings too. A friend of mine told me that he only sent his mom a card but refused to visit her on Mother’s day because she recently began dating someone. His mom has been a widow for over six years so I asked him why he wants his mom to be alone.  After  giving it some thought he told me he is simply having problems with his mom moving on.  I reminded him that life isn’t all about us.  Our parents have lives too.  Six years is an adequate grieving period.  “Let it go!”  She is getting older so why sacrifice a single moment because of a grievance over how he thinks she should be living her life?  If there is one thing that my mother’s situation has taught me, it is that time is precious so we shouldn’t lose a single second over the small things.

Conflict cannot survive without your participation.

Wayne Dyer.

I really don’t know if I could have made a difference in the relationship with my mother  had I approached things differently  in the past but I do know that now it is too late.  My mother was a proud woman, sometimes a little too proud, so she would never ask. A few months ago when mom had a moment of clarity she told me that she wishes she had handled things differently.  Sometimes I wish she would have just asked me, or at least talked to me. Of course, I didn't ask her either.  I began to think of all of the things that I could have done differently and realized that the tension between the two of has been part her; but it was also part me. I can’t change the past but I can be a better daughter right now.   My mother's fading memory creates an additional sense of urgency to savor these special moments which are destined to become the treasured memories  that Alzheimer Disease will eventually rob from her ..... but I will remember for us.  I can't fix the past or cure her mind but I can do is to reassure her that she is loved and  that she is not alone as she battles this terrible disease. 

I am learning to truly value the moments in life right now because life has reminded me that today may be all we have.  Life continues to move forward in spite of our own personal drama because time waits for no one.   People continue to get older, loved ones die,  memories fade, children grow up, and  move away to start their own families.   Time moves on which is why it is important to infuse love into each moment with cards, calls, special gestures, and Mother's Day brunches in the twilight of our lives. Mother's condition has shown me that every single moment is far too  precious to waste. 

 

Sandi, Mom, and Myself

 

God Must Have A Sense of Humor

I am not a religious woman but I do believe in God so each year for Lent I make a commitment with God to either do something or to sacrifice something.  This year I made a commitment to maintain a positive attitude, to maintain a higher level of awareness, and to go above and beyond as I go through my day.  Some days are easier than others but there are times when I wonder if God has a sense of humor and is just teasing me.

"We educate ourselves and learn to control the mind for one important end: To be less self-centered and more connected to others; to choose compassion in as many moments as we can.”

The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in a myriad of petty, unsexy ways every day."

David Foster Wallace

A  new job structure and a few small changes in routine freed up enough time so I can once again actively participate in things outside of family duties and work.  I was feeling pretty good about life and my commitment for Lent as I gave a few extra dollars to charity, was a little more accommodating on the drive to work, and maintained a higher awareness of people that I encountered throughout the day.  My new attitude was having a positive effect on others around me but it was having an even larger impact on me.  My view of life was changing for the better, I was happier, and small things no longer upset me.   It has been relatively easy to keep my commitment until this past week.

 I have been making changes in my home and I wanted a comfortable chair in my room for reading.  Not only did I find the perfect chair, I found it on sale for half price.  I got the chair home without a problem but when I tried to slide it into my room, it was 1” too wide.  I had to wait until the weekend so I could take off the legs and slide it through the door on its side and then put the legs back on.   What should have taken me fifteen minutes ended up taking much longer.

 A few days later I was relating my story about getting the chair through the door.  The person I was talking to told a story of about her parents who had the same issue with a couch. Her parents couldn’t get a new couch into their house so they began sawing off the legs so they could fit it through the door.   Just as they were just preparing to saw off the fourth leg her sister arrived and showed them how to just unscrew the couch legs to remove them.   I was grateful that I knew how to take the legs off without the saw and we both began to laugh.

 

This week I made my favorite dinner and packaged up my leftovers for my lunch the following day.  The next morning, I woke up early and decided to go to the office a little earlier than normal so I set out the satchel that I take to work next to my lunch and then got ready for work.   Once I got in the car I realized that I forgot to get gas the night before so I drove to the gas station only to discover that their terminals were down.  They temporarily couldn’t take debit or credit cards and I only had $1.50 in my wallet.  The next gas station had the same issue because the point of sale system was down so I decided to stop by the ATM and get cash.  Across the street from the bank I noticed a gas station where people were able to get gas so I decided to try that first but, when I put my card in the card reader, it got stuck. No matter what I did, I couldn’t pull it out of the card reader.  The two ladies who were inside couldn’t get it out either but the three of us had a good chuckle as we took turns trying to pull it out.  They eventually had to call a man who had to unlock the front and push something inside to make it release my card.  Just as I got my card back, someone at the other gas pump said that the card reader wouldn’t take his card. Their point of sale system had just gone down.  It was perfect timing so I just thanked the attendants and went to the ATM, which worked fine, and went back to the station to pay cash just in time for the card readers to come back online.  At this point, instead of being an hour early I would be lucky if I made it to work on time.   

When I was almost to the office, I realized that I forgot my work bag and lunch at home. I then had a moment of panic wondering if I remembered to put my laptop in my car. No lunch means I go to Chipotle across the street but no laptop means I can’t work.  After navigating all of the challenges to try and actually get to work it would be a cruel sense of irony if I had to go back home so I pulled over to check my backseat.  It was a relief to see that my laptop was there but a disappointment to see that the work bag and my lunch were not.  I saw this as a small inconvenience until I was near the parking garage and heard my cell phone beep the alert for a low battery.  This didn’t worry me at first because I knew I could just charge it at work until I remembered that my charger is in my work bag which is next to my lunch sitting on my kitchen counter.  Instead of getting upset, I honored my commitment for Lent and took a deep breath wondering, “What Next?” 

 I didn’t need to wait long to see what was coming next because a few second later I saw it…a raindrop.  The weatherman had predicted a 20% chance of rain which I promptly ignored because I live in Phoenix.  Those of us who live in the desert know that warnings of rain usually means the rain will only come in the surrounding areas instead of where we need it and a 20% chance of rain means it probably won’t happen so there is no point in getting our hopes up.  What we usually get is a dust storm followed by less than a minute of rain, just enough to turn the dust on our cars into mud.  The result gives the illusion to the non- desert dwellers that we spend a lot of time driving on muddy roads in the back country.  I always carry an umbrella just in case I actually get caught in the 60 seconds of moisture but that too is in my work bag, along with my phone charger, and my lunch, which are on my kitchen counter at home. 

In spite of the morning challenges I kept the positive attitude and the day turned out rather well. Someone at work had a phone charger I could borrow. It did rain for sixty seconds, but not while I was walking in it and my car was in the parking garage so it escaped the mud bath.  My mid morning conference call was cancelled which gave me some extra time and Chipotle was delicious. 

 

 After work I drove home with the windows down because the rain made the temperature drop from 90 degrees to 70 degrees and there was a beautiful breeze.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a motorcycle pull up next to me and hold his speed steady with mine.  The man on the motorcycle was smiling at me so I glanced over and had to stop myself from laughing out loud. There was a very large man on a very small motorcycle with long curly red hair that showed a bald spot right in the center of his head that was almost glowing in the late afternoon sun.  He had no helmet but wore bright blue swim goggles (yes, I said swim goggles) that almost glowed against his extremely white skin combined with a bright orange t-shirt that was being pushed up by the wind to give a perfect view of several sets of love handles and his plumbers crack.  I made a turn and as he pulled away I saw that on the back of his shirt it said in bold letters “Chicks love biker dudes.”   I was still chuckling when I saw a billboard advertising an Italian restaurant that said “Legalize Marinara” and a few blocks down a second bill board advertising for the same restaurant said “Don’t pass this joint.”  I got on the freeway and noticed a white convertible driven by an older gentleman with long gray locks. He was dressed in a colorful polyester shirt and wore lots of gold jewelry. His satiny red and gold shirt was shining in the bright sunlight and the excessive amount of gold chains he wore made him appear to sparkle in the sun.  I had to laugh when I noticed that there was a sign on the side of his car that said  “Bionic Stan.”   

 

The unfortunate events of the morning and the unique sights I saw on the way home helped to remind me how easy it is to let my life become a series of predictable routines that make me complacent and unaware of all that life has to offer until the routine is disrupted.  It was like receiving God’s gentle reminder that my attitude is what determines the outcome of my day, every day of my life, and not just during Lent.  I need to remember that a more positive side of life is available to me if I keep my heart open to receive it.  To my heavenly father I would say thank you for your sense of humor, for reminding me that life is nothing more than a series of moments, and for showing me that the outcome of each day depends on how I respond to these moments.  Amen