This is my daughter, Carrie Ann. She turned 20 today, August 1st, 2002. She was born in the wee hours of the morning, on a Sunday at the University Hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I lost 3 pregnancies before she was born- I wanted her very much and I was glad she came that day, I am glad that she is my daughter and chose me to be her mother.
Carrie was a "colicky" baby, and that was hard. But she is a trooper; she has endured many things- including having me for a mom. Carrie was named after my grandmother's mother- I do not remember her. Her middle name is the same as mine, and the same as my mother's, and the same as my grandmother's, and the same as my great-grandmother's. Carrie is an old soul.
Carrie goes to Evergreen State College in Olympia- the "Hippie School". It is a good school for her, I am glad she chose to go there. She is studying environmental sciences- she is passionate about those things. But she really is a writer and she, too, has her own web site and writes much more creatively than me. Carrie is less emotional and more measured than her mother, yet she lives by her heart- she is here for a reason and she will find it in this world.
Carrie giggles a lot- she loves to feel the laughter inside of her self. She is courageous and follows what her heart tells her is her path, even if it is something outside of the norm. She is very creative and started many stories, screen plays and books while still young. One of her books had quotes from people, songs, sayings at the beginning of each chapter and those quotes were meaningful, thoughtful, profound- she made all of them up herself. She is an old soul. She has much to draw upon, and she will learn to draw upon and connect to more than she knows- I know wisdom will be hers.
Happy Birthday Carrie- Have a Good Year...
Love, MOM
The bit written below was part of Deb's birthday celebration....
Last night on Friday August 2nd I went to a benefit to raise money for breast cancer awareness and research, held in Seattle in the Fremont (hippie/unconventional) area. The pictures at the right and left link to a site about the event- "The Aloha Bra Show". There were a couple of bands and then there was a sort of tribute to breasts with a "fashion show", complete with runway, of different bras to commemorate breasts and breast cancer victims and survivors- most of the bras were amusing (one was "the perfect wife" and had beer taps, coming out of the nipple areas, that actually worked and beer came out of the taps...), some were quite revealing and some actually exposed breasts. Unfortunately their site has no pictures of the event so I can't provide you with such...
It was a fun and serious night. The picture at the left celebrates breasts and links to the Fredrick's of Hollywood site. A friend of Deb's took some pictures so if I get some good ones I'll add them later...
So, continuing on from my July page and stories about addictions, there was another client I worked with a few times when I covered the hospital referrals. He was quite thin, looking like he could blow away in a stiff wind. He was also a late stage alcoholic and would return to the hospital over and over, requiring nursing home care at those times.
He was kind of charming or disarming or something and nursing homes would put up with him for a while, then they would not want him back. He would sneak out of his bed at night, they would realize he was gone, and then later, sometimes a day later, they would come upon him in his bed, having also snuck back in. They would tolerate this only so long and then kick him out, or other times he simply would not return.
This happened over and over, then I placed him in a nursing home two counties up and for a while we thought we would not see him again- but once again he surprised us. He had been up to his old tricks there too, leaving and then showing back up, and when they laid down the law he did not return from his next foray out into the world of endless alcohol- but he did show back up at my hospital, having made it not only back to town but back to town on his little electric scooter- how, we will never know. The hospital called me, asking me to assess him for nuring home placement again, and I said I would be up there in the morning, but the next morning they called to say "never mind", he had disappeared during the night. But that did not last, and in a couple of hours I got another call, that he had showed back up and was in his bed- ah yes, his trademark. I went up to the hospital and there he was, thin as ever, lying in his bed. I told him I had been called the day before but that they had cancelled the call because he had disappeared and then they had called saying he actually was there and I asked him what was up with that. He looked at me seriously and explained that the nurses were not giving him good care and so he felt he needed to leave. I looked back at him and said, "Hmmm, and I thought you left to go drinking"- to which he smiled and said "you know, I think you may just be right".
I once again found a nursing home for him, one in Seattle that had a lot of mental health clients and I thought that maybe they could tolerate him better at the least, and at best maybe someone could work with him. A couple of weeks later I heard that he was doing ok there, and in a few more weeks I heard he had died. He was a character, we all are characters. But those characters with addictions are led down different paths by the substances they think they are using and, instead, the substances use them and, in the end, use them up.
Work has been hectic lately, and the office atmosphere has left more than something to be desired... But work is also often our social core, and that still is good.
"This is the true joy in life,
the being used for a purpose
recognized by yourself as a mighty one;
the being thoroughly worn out
before you are thrown on the scrap heap;
the being a force of nature
instead of a feverish selfish little clod
of ailments and grievances complaining
that the world will not devote itself
to making you happy."
- George Bernard Shaw
John Huemmer recently also went to Reno, for pleasure of a different sort. He rented a tux for some big happenings- his son Otis is the Executive Chef for the new convention center there and it was having its grand opening celebration. There was a nice write up about Otis in the Reno Gazette that included:
"When Otis Huemmer was sitting in his high school cooking class, he knew he wanted to run his own kitchen someday, he just didn’t know he would end up in Reno as the new executive chef for the Reno-Sparks Convention Center.
"It’s a very fun and rewarding career," Huemmer said.
Even more impressive is the fact that he is in charge of his own kitchen at the age of 24.
"I think I’ve accomplished a lot for my age," he said. "I don’t take it for granted though, that’s for sure. It’s a lot of responsibility."
And next Friday he will have the responsibility of making sure the food is just perfect for the more than 700 guests at the grand opening of the Convention Center."
Click for the rest of the article:(http://www.rgj.com/news/stories/html/2002/07/27/20287.php)
Congratulations Otis, and John!!
My friend Barbara has had her heart set on getting a lovely used Mercedes since she crashed her car many months ago and was relegated to driving her little pickup with the interesting Rorschach rust blotches on it- which I love but which Barbara has ambivalent feelings about driving. She has found her dream- a 1990 Mercedes in mint condition, with an impeccable interior. Now she can drive and arrive in style, transported in the manner she had hoped to become accustomed to... You can easily see from her picture that it is her intellectual prowess that draws her to the stately automobile, along with some yet to be clearly defined associations she holds about the vehicle. Her search for joy has ended, and a new journey has, literally, begun.
Rev. Will has noticed a slow down in my writing... yes, life has been hectic, challenging, stressful and my brain has felt a little fried... but we take it day by day and things always change, move and life takes its form, as it will.
"Fear, guilt, unworthiness, hurt feelings and anger are, in fact, tools. Tools are neutral- they can be used either for us, or against us. A knife can be used to heal or to hurt. A hammer can be used to build or to destroy. It is not the tool itself, but the way the tool is used that determines its benefit or detriment."- John-Roger and Peter McWilliams, The Portable DO IT!
This too will make us grow, inside.
And what is the deal with the picture? Well, who knows where these connections in my mind come from... Life is puzzling, things are not always as they seem. California, what is up with that??
Where do we find advice and/or consolation as we travel down these difficult paths? The classic is the bartender, others are our friends, family, God/Church, meditation, drugs and alcohol, sex, and sometimes we simply look within for understanding. Sometimes we have things to deal with for which we have no name, or that we have not defined yet for ourself. Sometimes the number of things we face or the magnitude of one problem/issue is overwhelming. And we take one day at a time, trying to make decisions that will stand the test of time. But there is an end in sight, we just can't see it yet. Hope does, however, spring eternal.
"There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love."- Thorton Wilder
"The one thing that does not abide by majority's rule is a person's conscience."- Harper Lee
"No one has ever loved anyone the way everyone wants to be loved."- Mignon McLaughlin
More on addiction... :)
A County Deputy pulled a car over on I-57 about 2 miles north of the Missouri State line. When the Deputy asked the driver why he was speeding, the driver answered that he was a magician and a juggler and he was on his way to Branson to do a show that night and didn't want to be late. The deputy told the driver he was fascinated by juggling, and if the driver would do a little juggling for him that he wouldn't give him a ticket. The driver told the deputy that he had sent all of his equipment on ahead and didn't have anything to juggle. The deputy told him that he had some flares in the trunk of his squad car and asked if he could juggle them. The juggler stated that he could, so the deputy got three flares, lit them and handed them to the juggler.
While the man was doing his juggling act, a car pulled in behind the squad car, a drunk got out and watched the performance briefly, he then went over to the squad car, opened the rear door and got in. The deputy observed him doing this and went over to his squad car, opened the door and asked the drunk what he thought he was doing. The drunk replied, "Might as well take my ass on to jail, there's no way in hell I can pass that test."
It's Been Awhile(Lyrics)
It's been awhile
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been awhile
Since I first saw you
And it's been awhile
Since I could stand on my own two feet again
And it's been awhile
Since I could call you
And everything I can't remember
As f*cked up as it all may seem
And consequences that are rendered
I stretched myself beyond my means
And it's been awhile
Since I could say that I wasn't addicted
And it's been awhile
Since I could say I loved my self as well
And it's been awhile
Since I've gone and f*cked things up just like I always do
And it's been awhile
But all that sh*t seems to disappear when I'm with you
And everything I can't remember
As f*cked up as it all may seem
And consequences that are rendered
I've gone and f*cked things up again
Yeah....
Why must I feel this way?
Just make this go away
Just one more peaceful day
And it's been awhile
Since I could look at myself straight
And it's been awhile
Since I've said I'm sorry
And it's been awhile
Since I've seen the way the candles light your face
And it's been awhile
But I can still remember just the way you taste
And everything I can't remember
As f*cked up as it all my seem
I know it's me
I cannot blame this on my father
He did the best he could for me
And it's been awhile
Since I could hold my head up high
And it's been awhile
Since I've said I'm sorry
What's the deal with the lyrics? They are from a song by a band named Staind, I guess a rock/metal band. The picture links to one of their fan sites and was made by a fan. The lyrics caught my ear many months ago and I am finally including them here. To me they are about addiction, love and growing up- taking responsibility for your own life. Jesse Jackson once said something like "you may not be responsible for being down, but you are responsible for getting up". It is not possible to have been a child and not have had something said or done that consciously or unconsciously negatively affected how you see the world, respond to it, or simply how you are in this world. That is life, people, particularly parents, contribute to who we become, and it is our job to be as aware of those effects as we can be, making more conscious choices about what it is to be our self. By the way, the song's writer said that the song was simply about how it had "been a while" for several things. I like my interpretation better... what's new.
Kira chose to admit herself to 35 days of inpatient treatment today (8/20/02). She is beautiful.
Do you need a washing?
She had been shopping with her Mom at Walmart. She must have been
6 years old, this beautiful red haired, freckle faced image of innocence. It was pouring outside. The kind of rain that gushes over the top of rain gutters, so much in a hurry to hit the earth it has no time to flow down the spout. We all stood there under the awning and just inside the door of the Walmart. We waited, some patiently, others irritated because nature messed up their hurried day.
I am always mesmerized by rainfall. I
got lost in the sound and sight of the heavens washing away the dirt
and dust of the world. Memories of running, splashing so carefree as a child come pouring in as a welcome reprieve from the worries of my day. Her voice was so sweet as it broke the hypnotic trance we were all caught in. "Mom, let's run through the rain," she said. "What?" Mom asked. "Let's run through the rain!" she repeated. "No, honey. We'll wait until it slows down a bit," the Mom replied. This young child waited about another minute and repeated, "Mom,
let's run through the rain!" "We'll get soaked if we do," Mom said. "No, we won't, Mom. That's not what you said this morning," the
young girl said as she tugged at her Mom's arm. "This morning? When did I say we could run through the rain and
not get wet?" "Don't you remember? When you were talking to Daddy about his
cancer, you said, 'If God can get us through this, he can get us through anything!" The entire crowd stopped dead silent. I swear you couldn't hear anything but the rain. We all stood silently. No one came or left
in the next few minutes.
The mom paused and thought for a moment about what she would say. Now
some would laugh it off and scold her for being silly. Some might even ignore what was said. But this! this was a moment of affirmation in a
young child's life. A time when innocent trust can be nurtured so that
it will bloom into faith. "Honey, you are absolutely right. Let's run through the rain. If
GOD let's us get wet, well maybe we just needed washing," Mom said. Then off they ran.
We all stood watching, smiling and laughing as
they darted past the cars and yes, through the puddles. They held their shopping bags over their heads just in case. They got soaked. But
they were followed by a few who screamed and laughed like children all
the way to their cars. And yes, I did. I ran. I got wet. I needed
washing.
Circumstances or people can take away your material possessions,
they can take away your money, and they can take away your health. But
no one can ever take away your precious memories... So, don't forget
to make time and take the opportunities to make memories everyday. To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven.
Doreen Bush sent this to me to remind me of life. I hope you enjoyed it- I hope it reminds you to stop and get washed once in a while.
Click on the skull picture to read an excerpt from National Geographic Magazine, or check out the full article at your local doctor's office... It is pretty interesting, they have found some very old skulls in the Republic of Georgia that are challenging the existing theories of the migration of man from Africa and which of the species of hominids made the trek- the brain and stature are small, not what they were expecting. It is making them wonder if maybe there were not so many species of us after all, "Shaquille O’Neal and Danny DeVito are members of the same species. Is it possible that the scientists who have given new species names to every early Homo find with significant differences have made our family tree more complicated than it really is?". If you get the chance, read the whole article in hard print...
My office is located in the area in south Seattle that is industrial- full of trucks, warehouses, and old, old buildings that never were meant to be anything other than utiliarian. If you wander a little you might just run across the hat and boots in this picture, sitting at a corner, surrounded by a wire fence, looking abandoned, relics of what were the days of my childhood, a time when roadside America boasted many such sites across the country.
I have driven by them many a time and probably every time thought that I should bring my camera and take a picture to preserve them before they disappear into the future. I never got around to doing that, but, lo and behold, there has appeared a sign on the fence that surrounds them, announcing that the local Georgetown Community Council has been taking 
steps to preserve them, and you can see that work has begun. The plan is to restore them and then move them to a park that is being created very close by. Yes, that is good, although I would like to see them be a gas station, or maybe a hot dog stand, again. If you click on either of the pictures you will be taken to the hatnboots website that is chronicling this endeavor.
The old picture of the original hat and boots station is from the 1950s, you can see why I am so attracted to them, just as I am finding myself attracted to many old things such as antiques and men... :)
Such is life as time moves on.
I have been including a clip from whatever song means a little more to me that month on my pages, with a link on the "lips" at the bottom right of the page. This month is a clip from India Arie's wonderful album from last year, Acoustic Soul: "I want to go to a place where I'm suspended in ecstasy, somewhere between dark and light, where wrong becomes right, I want to go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, I want to go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful..." Yes, that is where I want to go too.
Click on her album picture to go to a video clip of her song "Strength, Courage and Wisdom (it's been inside of me all along...)".
When your heart speaks, take good notes.- Andy Mellon
I recently saw a client of mine for the second time, I looked back over my pages because I thought I had written about her before but I had not, I must have written about my last meeting with her to my patient and kind friend Ken way back then in February or March or whenever... She does not speak english so both times I met with her I had an interpreter, the first time was interesting in that the interpreter brought his wife who was from the same country and he thought that would help in understanding her. She has some significant dementia but it is not late stage, she is very verbal, was a teacher, and spoke at length, rarely answering any of my questions, mostly talking about her life, what she had done and felt, where she had come from, her story. The interpreter and his wife were not used to talking to demented people and were instantly charmed by this intelligent woman and all that she had to say, and I would have to stop them and ask what she was saying because they would forget their own task. After a while I stopped asking them so much, and I just watched, I saw how she responded, I saw her animation, I saw her looking deep within herself and within us, I saw her lonliness and the joy she felt at having people simply stop and ask her about herself. I knew she was not answering the questions, I knew she was very intelligent, I knew I had seen the place she was coming from before, but, as always, it is hard to just go with the gut and I would ask the interpreters what she was relaying to them, and they would, with delight, tell me the gist of her communication, and I knew then that I really did not need an interpreter to recognize this woman, that I did not need an interpreter to tell me her meaning. She was pretty fixed upon me and in between her stories she would stop and look at me and motion to my face, the interpreters didn't have to tell me what she was saying, I knew, I had heard if before. "She is saying that you glow, that you have a kind heart. She says that you are beautiful." Yes, I knew that was what she was saying. I did not get any of my questions answered directly, but all of them were answered.
I saw her again recently, the facility she lives in had asked me to come by, they were puzzled by some things and felt that I could shed light upon what was going on. Again I met with her with two people, this time one interpreter and the facility manager, and again she answered few questions, and spoke at length about other things, but this time she mostly talked about me. She touched my chin a million times, she "read" my face, she said she had learned face reading in her own country, that I glowed. She loved my chin, said the forehead showed childhood, the chin the older years. She said that my forehead showed that I am very intelligent, that my teachers loved me for this, that I was a straight "A" student. She said that I would find great happiness, that many men would want me and that I would be the one to choose, that I would find great happiness in love with that man, that I would have financial security and that this, the chin readings, were for my older years, maybe after 60. Yes, ok, that is good. She was not interested in the faces of the other people, again her focus was on me. I got few answers once again, yet, once again, I got all of them. She had to go to a nursing home, and that was going to be ok.
"Old" women, even those without dementia, tell me things like this about myself all of the time, the older men usually just smile, talk more than they have for a long time, let me touch their hand or help them up when normally they just growl at the staff, and they thank me for coming, ask me if I will come again. Yes, we, men and women, are two different beings, yet we are the same, we react to the same things, we see the same things but we "see" them differently, we "talk" about them differently. When I see clients I am completely present, I don't know how to tell you what that means, but time does not exist.
My wish is that this lovely lady is right, that when I am an older woman (hopefully she is right and it will be by 60!) I will find great happiness with the one man, the one who sees me. I know that I will have to wait for that, because it seems that to "see" you have to be "old", and having dementia helps that process apparently. What is that all about anyway? Ciao.
Two weeks ago Carrie and Kira and I went to see the then new movie "Signs" with the yummy Mel Gibson :) and the movie held pleasant surprises. Last weekend the movie bumped back up to the #1 spot, most likely because of word of mouth. It is hyped as more of a sci-fi movie about aliens and crop circles, which it most certainly is, but the sleeper, the surprise, is that its real underlying message (hello Will...) is about faith- faith in God, faith in purpose, faith despite the traumas and losses we experience simply because we remain alive. The title "Signs" is not about the crop circles, it is about the little, insignificant, serendipitious events of our lives, those things that can, sometimes when we stop, cause us to wonder about grand schemes, meaning, and at those times we can think, and think, and think, and try to understand why, try to "figure it out", and continue to try to figure it out, on and on, or we can reject meaning, reject purpose, reject any reason for being, closing ourselves off, or we can simply embrace what is, embrace what we feel, embrace love, embrace life, and embrace our self. Don't get me wrong, thinking is good, thinking helps us grow if we use it for that, but thinking is limited, it is only one way of experiencing the world- it is important to experience it all- but what do I know? Decide for yourself.
So, yes, I liked the movie, it was good, it was not perfectly done, but it is worth the time to see. If you click on the "Signs" picture at left it takes you to the official site... later.
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed."- Albert Einstein
CLICK ME FOR ONGOING WRITINGS FROM JUDITH VIORST'S BOOK: Necessary Losses
Music: Click on Lips Page Created August 2002 |
