Embrace The Suck

"The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living." Marcus Tullius Cicero It's happened again. Someone I know died. While Michael Phelps racked up an unprecedented number of medals and Simone Biles vaulted her way into gymnastic history books, my daughter's father-in-law drew his lasts breath.  I know, I know. People die every minute every day. People die in numbers too great to comprehend. Dying is part of the circle of life. It's when the circle narrows to include someone you know or love that death is no longer something that only happens to someone else. A few weeks ago, my uncle went in for back surgery.  A man so full of life, it never occurred to him or any of us that something could go wrong - horribly wrong.  Complications that had nothing to do with his back sent him into another 4 hours of surgery from which he did not recover. And just like that, the once robust man, my mother's youngest brother, the end of a generation, died. No...

Misadventures of a Happy Heart A Memoir of Life Beyond Disabilities by Amy Quincy When E-books first came out, I was of the I'll-never-buy-one-because-I-like-the-feel-of-a-book-in-my-hand school of thought. Then I bought one. Then two. Then enough more to realize reading on a Nook was infinitely easier than holding a bound book and turning the pages, especially when reading in bed. Which is where I usually read. I also like the fact that I can make the font bigger to match my diminishing eye sight. I got a new pair of glasses last week and was amazed at how clear and bright the world looked through the new prescription. The saleswoman put a card with tee-tiny writing on it under my nose and I could read with no difficulty at all. Until I got home. Now I'm having to move my head either up or down depending on whether I'm looking far away or close up. Perhaps I should have saved the money I spent on new glasses and bought a larger Nook. None of that made any differe...

Your heart has grown heavy with loss; And though this loss has wounded others too, No one knows what has been taken from you When the silence of absence deepens. John O'Donohue* I attended a home going, celebration of life, memorial service, funeral yesterday. It matters not what a final farewell is called - it's still saying goodbye to someone you love. A sea of 300 people, most dressed in white (per family wishes) packed a church built to hold a crowd, but still bulged at the seams. Along with the weeping there was singing, praising, hugging, praying, and remembering. I watched as the deceased's brother walked stoically in front of the gold draped casket. As the priest, it fell to him to dig deep to find the strength to say the words that would comfort the mourners. Her mother and twin sister needed the help of others to get to their seats. That's when I began to cry. I felt their pain. I felt my own. I've been in their shoes. I've had to make that lo...

Your heart has grown heavy with loss; And though this loss has wounded others too, No one knows what has been taken from you When the silence of absence deepens. John O'Donohue* I attended a home going, celebration of life, memorial service, funeral yesterday. It matters not what a final farewell is called - it's still saying goodbye to someone you love. A sea of 300 people, most dressed in white (per family wishes) packed a church built to hold a crowd, but still bulged at the seams. Along with the weeping there was singing, praising, hugging, praying, and remembering. I watched as the deceased's brother walked stoically in front of the gold draped casket. As the priest, it fell to him to dig deep to find the strength to say the words that would comfort the mourners. Her mother and twin sister needed the help of others to get to their seats. That's when I began to cry. I felt their pain. I felt my own. I've been in their shoes. I've had to make that lo...

"Dance is the hidden language of the soul of the body." Martha Graham June 16, 2016 Dear Slightly Overweight Girl, Let's be honest your size and shape are not that of the ordinary ballerina. Ashamedly that's what first caught my eye. In a group of small girls, your body type singled you out. But here's the thing, I found it impossible to take my eyes off you.  Not because of your size - that faded away after the first arabesque. What drew me in was your grace. Your smile. Your obvious love of what you were doing.  You're being "you" in a field of "others" reminded me of the Hot Dog Princess I saw on FB last week. Invited to her dance class's princess party, this independent thinker, stepped into a room full of  satin and lace clad Elsas and Annas, wearing a hot dog costume. An article in inquisitor.com* said "Hot Dog Princess has become a symbol of hope for anyone hiding behind a mask of conformity." I...

Villefranche-sur-Mer France 24 March 1922 Dear Mother Combs, (Half-way down page 2) We have been very happy, too, both of us like to stay at home and play with the baby. Honestly, without prejudice, I will say that Patricia Combs Aldrich is the sweetest and best baby I ever saw. We both love her almost too much. She is growing fast and is getting smarter every day. ... Best of love to all, Clarence June 15, 2016 Dear Mom, You sure have been on my mind a lot lately. John thinks Maizey has been waking up in the middle of the night because she sees a ghost. We always kidded that it was Mick Shrock up there. Jack and I are pretty sure there are spirits downstairs - usually wandering down the hall. I wish I knew if for sure if you and or Dad were hanging around. And if so, why? Is that what souls do? Linda and I went up to Georgia in April to go through Aldrich family memorabilia. Perhaps if spirits are real, you went with us. We had such a good time. There was lots of laug...

At 14 the girl had gone from being called "toothpick" to being whistled at in a two piece bathing suit. It was the mid-sixty's so the suit, while showing off some boob and curves, would be called modest by today's standards. The girl kind of liked the attention. At 14 the girl knew a little bit about making out, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. All three were usually done on a double date  (if you can call boys driving one car and girls driving another, parking next to each other, then pairing up,  a date) at the drive-in movie.  At 14 the girl knew the basics of sex, but had never seen or experienced an erect penis or ejaculate. She had never heard of oral sex, anal sex, kinky sex. To say she was naive would be an understatement. To say her naivety mixed with her blossoming sexuality was a dangerous combination was a certainty. At 14 the girl walked a tight rope between being a "good girl" and following other girls who pushed the limits of "good...

June 4, 1921 Southern Hotel Baltimore, MD. Dearest, dearest family -- How I wish you could have been here yesterday to see me married to the dearest man in the world! I thought of you all a thousand times and it was the only thing which marred an otherwise perfect day. The service was read more impressively than I ever heard it before and we both realized very well just what we were doing but neither of us - I know I didn't - had a qualm. I was never more serene and calm and happy in my life!! Love, hugs and kisses to you all, Gertrude _ _ _ _ June 8 Dear couple that got engaged yesterday in Memorial Park, I watched from the other end of the sidewalk as one of you got down on his knee and asked a question while the other threw her arms around you in an answer that could only have been yes. Then your friend walked up, asked for a re-enactment so she could take pictures. I hope your lives together will always be filled with that same kind of happiness. I don't know what kind o...

June 6 Dear Mean People, We're all in this together. Why do you have to be mean? I try not to judge. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I try steer clear of things that aren't any of my business. But some things are my business, because some things are every body's business. Like the results of mean people being mean. I like to imagine what the world might be like if there weren't people killing people, or hurting children, or beating up their wives, or fighting wars over imaginary lines in the dirt, or kicking dogs, or having road rage, or yelling at checkout people who sometimes get backed up and have to go slow, or laughing at people who look/act/think different, or hating people because their skin is a different color, or telling people who have to pee that they are in the wrong bathroom, or telling lies, or honking their horn at slow drivers,  or shooting animals, or walking by a homeless person without looking, or drinking too much then drivin...

June 4, "Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth." June 4 Dear Mohammad Ali, I never knew you. I've never been a fan of watching people beat each other up. But today, when I heard the news that you'd passed away, I felt an unexpected sadness. There is a hole in the world, where greatness once reigned. The "rumble" you inspired with hard work and a sense of humor has been silenced. You were a champion in and out of the boxing ring. You were a hero, in the old-fashioned sense of the word. Who will fill your shoes? I'm trying to imagine what heaven must be like today. Are you showing the angels a few of your dance moves? Are you reciting poetry to St. Peter. Are you showing your pretty face to the One who created it? Are you sitting next to Prince resting in the glow of perfect peace? Thank you for sharing your life with us. m

I wonder if Eve could write letters in Paradise!  But, poor Eve, she had no one to write to -  no one to whom to tell what Eden was,  no beloved child to whom her love traveled through any or all space.  Poor Eve!  Catharine M. Sedgwick June 2, Dearest Daughter, I read the news this morning of a shooting at UCLA. It always makes me sad to hear about a shooting (or anything bad happening at a school). It's hard to imagine being a parent that sends her child to school only to find out that something horrific happened at that supposedly safe place. Actually that would be true of most any situation, but it seems especially awful for parents and school children. Today's news brought back memories of your time at UCLA. In my mind's eye I can still see us on our first drive to UCLA back in 1989. How could I forget that parade of people dressed in black holding pictures of the Ayatollah Khomeini and shouting words that sounded menacing ...

June 1. The start of another month. Already one half of the year is gone. I really don't like that time seems to move so fast. I remember when my former husband used to go on deployment with the Navy. Long periods of time.  3 months, 6 months. This was before email, social media, and Facetime. I could usually expect a drunken phone call from some exotic port of call to tell me how much fun he was having. As you might guess, I was never real excited to get those calls. It was good to hear his voice and to have the kids talk him. It just wasn't the best way of communicating. If something bad happened, the only way to get word to him was via the Red Cross. These messages were reserved for "real" emergencies, not the icemaker flooding the kitchen floor, or how to remove the bar of soap the toddler crammed into the flusing part of the toilet. I'd like to say something like "young people today don't know how good they have it." But I won't for two reas...

Sweetie and I took ourselves on a mini-vacation last week. Neither of us had been to the west coast of Florida so it seemed like a good place to visit. The Sportsman's Lodge, in Eastpoint, FL was our destination. When you make reservations in a place with Lodge in the name, you probably shouldn't expect too much. In business for over 40 years, the rooms were, shall we say, rustic. Our room looked out on the Apalachicola River. A stunning view. Perfect for watching sea birds, purple martins, peacock mating rituals, people cleaning fish and the most beautiful sunsets you can imagine. We settled into our home away from home with relaxation as our only goal.  The mattresses groaned when we sat on the bed. Neither the groaning sound or that of the window air conditioner interfered with our unscheduled afternoon naps. The sounds emanating from the Lodge's peafowl were a bit harder to ignore. Something between a bull horn and an alley cat's drawn out meows, God must have sp...

At the beginning of the month Sweetie finally had a PET scan. I asked if I could watch. I wanted to see for myself the plaques and tangles that show up in the brain of a person with ALZ. Of course, my request was denied. There was too much confidential material about other patients in there. Huh? Oh well, I remained in the waiting room, on the too low couch, with very little stuffing while some kind of NatGeo program recycled view after view of underwater scenes with music whose only purpose could possibly be to lull people to sleep. I woke myself up by snoring too loud. It was a rather long wait. But not as long as eighteen days it took to get the results. Finally - drum roll please - the time came. We were ushered into a small exam room where all Sweetie's newest medications were added to his computerized chart. His vitals were taken. Unlike mine, his blood pressure was on the low side. Then Dr. Mody walked in and introduced herself. Doctor number 3 we've seen since this...

Before I went to bed last night I set the clocks ahead an hour for Daylight Savings Time. Well, not all the clocks. Seems I forgot the most important one. My alarm clock. The one with the bright digital numbers that I can see through half-open eyelids in the middle of the night. Contrary to my usual slow wake-up, I got out of bed this morning at 9:15, giving myself the exact amount of time to get ready for church. Sweetie and I discussed church attendance before falling asleep, so I was kind of surprised to see him reading/snoozing when I got out of the shower. Uhm, I thought we were going to church, I said, coveting the pillow his head rested upon. You're a little late, Sweetie answered. What do you mean? Look at the clock. You didn't re-set that one. No way we can make it to church in 3 minutes. He had me there. Instead of church we went downtown to an art/music festival. Neither of us knew what to expect. Certainly not the time machine ride back to the 60's. I...

 I jumped the gun a little bit in my last post. It turns out Sweetie has not been approved for a PET scan. In fact he's been denied for a third time and United Healthcare (now a dirty word in our house) refused a peer-to-peer discussion with the doctor on the grounds that the appeal was denied. Denied, I might add, even though they had all the documentation they asked for that said Sweetie met their criteria. Needless to say my Sweetie was not so sweet upon leaving. It didn't help that all that information came after taking the MOCA (don't know what it stands for) test. 30 fairly easy questions unless you have a memory problem. Then easy becomes difficult and difficult becomes embarrassing. The questions start out with what's the date?where are you right now? Then they move up to draw a clock that reads 9:15, redraw this picture of some kind of multi-sided shape. Then come the stumpers. Remember these 5 words. Starting at 100, subtract 7 and keep going. Sweet had t...