People in my life

A is in a loveless marriage, but there's not an easy way out. A has been unhappily married for practically as long as I've known her. She's also been half in love with her high school sweetheart for as long as I've known her. From time to time, she toys with the idea of leaving her marriage and going to the love of her youth, but but but ... there's always a but. I feel so bad for her; I hate seeing her so unhappy.

B is in a troubled marriage. He and his wife are both widowed, found happiness with each other, and now struggle to make each day work for themselves and their kids. They want it to work, but they don't know how. B is close to despair, looking for some guarantee that the effort he puts into the marriage will bear fruit.

C has been really cranky lately, and by "lately" I mean about a year. She admits that she and her husband have been through a rough patch. I don't know the details, but I do know that folks who know her -- myself included -- are getting tired of her bad behavior.

D is bipolar; he's struggling to stay balanced in spite of all the pressures of his life. His wife is self-centered and doesn't take his disease seriously. It makes me crazy to see her frivolous habits undermine all the progress he's made.

E is happily married with two sweet little girls. She has just been told that the breast cancer she thought she'd beaten is back, with mets to the liver and kidneys. I don't have to elaborate on my reactions to this situation, do I?

These are some of the people in my life.

My life looks pretty good right now.

July 12

The date my dad was born; the date he died. It's just a date.

I'm not going to repeat what I've written elsewhere (here and here, if you're curious), but I'm annoyed that the date still has the power to make the man loom in my thoughts.

A meme about Firsts

First Job: Cashier at a burger joint called -- I kid you not -- The Cow Pattie. I was 15 and it was 2 blocks from my house. I was let go when the manager hired his niece for the job.

First Real Job: Conference organizer for a now-defunct human rights organization in Chicago. I loved that job: I was passionate about the cause, I got to travel around the country, and I met amazing people.

First Favorite Politician: John Anderson. Remember him?

First Car: The first family car I remember was the Batmobile; actually, it was a Cadillac with wing fenders and pointy tail lights. The first car my mom bought after she left my dad was a decrepit Ford Falcon; it didn't last very long. I learned to drive on a Ford Pinto. The first car I bought used was a Ford Fiesta that I bought from my sister when the arrival of their third child made it impractical for them. The first car I bought new was a Mazda 323, which ran beautifully until ... well, never mind.

First Record/CD: The first record I remember choosing to listen to was Schubert's Trout Quintet. The first record I remember buying was a gift for my mom, Verdi's La Traviata. The first record I remember buying for myself was Chicago.

First Sport Played: I am not athletic. Does elementary school kickball count?

First Concert: I went to see Aida in the fourth grade; I can STILL see the set, the magic, the mystery. The first concert I went to as a teenager was James Taylor; he was playing at a small auditorium on the campus of SMU 3 blocks from my house. From where I was sitting, I could see Carly Simon standing in the wings ... it was such a THRILL.

First Foreign Country Visited: My family traveled all over South America when I was a toddler, but I don't remember that. The summer after 8th grade, my mom, sister and I went to Spain, Italy, and Greece.

First Favorite TV Show: Gilligan's Island!

First Favorite Actor: Sean Connery, always and forever unto ages of ages

First Favorite Actress: Katherine Hepburn

First Girlfriend/Boyfriend: Craig ... we recently reconnected on that social networking site. What a disappointment!

First Encounter with a Famous Person: I know I've posted this before, but it was (and is) a big deal ... I bought a t-shirt at a Harry Chapin concert: He leaned across the table, kissed me on the lips, and said, Beautiful.

First Brush With Death: I was only 2 or 3 when my paternal grandfather died. I remember his being very sick, and I remember going to the house after he died: I can see my grandmother standing on the staircase and coming down the steps to my dad.

First House/Condo Owned: A fabulous 2-bedroom condo in Maryland. Nick moved into it after we married; then we rented it out when we bought a house. I sold it at a $5K loss when we were tired of being landlords ... two years later the woman who bought it sold it for a $30K profit. It still makes me sick to think about!

First Film Seen: Fantasia

First Favorite Recording Artist: Simon and Garfunkel; I can still sing every word of every song they ever recorded together

First Favorite Radio Station: KLIF 1190 AM, in Dallas, Texas

First Book I Remember Reading: The Very Little Girl, by Phyllis Krasilovsky. I read that book over and over and over again; if it weren't so expensive (or if I had little girls), I'd buy a copy today.

First Meme You Answered on Your Blog: I had to page through my blog from the beginning to find this one from May 2006. Many of my answers are still the same, and many have changed. Maybe I'll redo it sometime.

On a lighter note

The ACL of my heart

The anterior cruciate ligament holds your femur (thigh bone) and your tibia (shin bone) together. Unless they are in the medical field, most people don't even know they have an ACL until it gets injured.

Both my ACLs are torn. Both of them. I tore the one in my right knee in 1984, the one in my left knee in 1999. The 1984 injury was well before arthroscopic surgery was readily available; the doctors wanted to make a 16" incision on my leg and move pieces of muscle around to take the place of the ACL. Ummm... no thanks. I opted for intense physical therapy instead.

By 1999, arthroscopic surgery was fairly routine, but since I'd already been successful with physical therapy, I didn't even consider surgery. It turns out that some people are not what they call "ACL-dependent." My physical therapist in 1999 said that most people he sees can't even bear their weight with a torn ACL, let alone walk around. He'd never worked with anyone with both ligaments torn in separate incidents.

The second round of rehab was challenging for me because I had -- unknown to myself -- made all sorts of compensations for my first torn ACL. I changed my stance, my balance, my walking. I'd been favoring my right knee and putting more stress on my left. When the left knee was injured, I had to start all over again.

I'm sure you're wondering why I'm telling you all this. Annie made a comment about her husband's death being like a bad knee -- I take care in situations where it might be aggravated and I rehab to prevent throwing it out of whack. Reading that one line was like having a light bulb go on in a dark room.

My experience of widowhood has been that it's like having torn the ligaments in my knees.

Usually, I'm not aware of my knees on any conscious level. But I've made adjustments. I walk down hills and stairs at a slant, because my torn ACLs no longer support forward-downward motion. I can walk, I can cycle, I can swim, I can climb, I can jog gently; but serious running is out, and my volleyball days are over. I can do almost anything I want, but when I'm rock climbing or going up and down ladders I have to pay attention to my knees.

When cold wet weather sets in, I have to take Tylenol for the pain in my knees. They are even sensitive to air conditioning. I can't cross my legs at the knee, and my knees need some support if I'm stretched out on the sofa. And sometimes, for no apparent reason, one knee will give out; the bones will shift out of alignment with a stab of pain that takes my breath away. If I'm lucky, I'll have something to grab onto; otherwise, I'll be crumbled on the ground wondering what else I just injured.

So it is with grief. Most of the time, I'm not aware of it. I can do anything I want, but I know that some activities (holidays, the kids' birthdays, etc) will always require a little more care to avoid injury. And just as my knees know when a change of weather is coming, my whole being knows that the anniversary of Nick's death is coming. The ache isn't debilitating, but it's there. I move through the pain a little more slowly than usual, but to the outside observer all is well.

The ACL of my heart has been torn. Major reconstructive surgery is not an option. I have made accommodations for the injury and move through my life with relative ease. But every now and then, it's going to slip out of place and hurt like hell.

In one short month

It will have been five long years since I took Nick to the ER.

I'm not one to get all worked up about approaching dates, but the five-year mark looms large in my mind. I just read the CaringBridge journal update by a friend's daughter who has had more cancer surgeries than I can count. She's so upbeat and laughs that "you know you have had too many surgeries when you recognize the recovery room nurse."

I can't laugh about it. I can't be upbeat. It's like my entire being KNOWS that August is just around the corner. I hate this knowledge. I hate this feeling.

I want it all to go away.

Alicia is ...

... jealous of her friends who have older kids and living husbands.

Hooplah

I must be missing the hooplah gene, the one that allows people to get swept up in the enthusiasm of the moment. I've never followed fashion fads; I practically refuse to see movies that get a lot of advance build-up in the press; and I absolutely do not understand the celebrity culture that seems to permeate our society.

Jon & Kate? Brad & Jen? Brad & Angie? Lindsay & Paris? Madonna & herself? Puhlease. I don't have any brain cells programmed to care. My reactions to the well-publicized deaths this past week were pretty low key: The deaths of Ed McMahon (was he still alive?), Farrah Fawcett (I'm so sorry for Ryan O'Neal, but at least she's okay now), and Michael Jackson (shocked, but not surprised) are not momentous events of my life, just blips on my radar screen.

I knew there would be threads about Fawcett's and Jackson's deaths on the message boards; I knew there would be press coverage; I knew there would be lots of nostalgia. But I was unprepared for the extreme responses from those who adore Michael Jackson and his music and those who despise the other aspect of his very public life. And I was shocked when all the newscasts were all about him, when even the cable news shows dedicated to politics were all about his death -- even though there was NO NEWS, just footage of people gathering outside the hospital.

I just don't get it. And I never have.

• I remember where I was when Elvis died: scooping cones at an ice cream parlor in Dallas. People heard the news on the radio and started crying; customers could barely choke out their orders. I didn't get it. I was 16 and had not yet developed an appreciation for his music, and he'd become something of a overweight, oversequined joke -- besides he was OLD (you know -- he was 42, the same age as my mother).
• I remember where I was when John Lennon was killed: studying for midterms my junior year at Northwestern. I can see one of my housemates coming down the stairs to tell us the news; I can hear another groan and say, Ugh, now the radio stations are going to play nothing but Beatles for a week. I was upset; I loved the Beatles; but I felt no compulsion to grab a candle and join the throngs on the campus green for an impromptu memorial.
• I remember picking up the Sunday newspaper and seeing the headline that Princess Diana had been killed in a car crash: Oh, my! I was thoroughly surprised and puzzled when I got to church and saw people in tears. Why are these people crying? What happened? Who died? Diana? They're reacting like this to her death? I was amazed by the public response to her death, by the mountains of flowers, notes, gifts left outside Buckingham Palace, by people (Americans!) driving several hundred miles to leave tokens outside the British Embassy in Washington, D.C. I was riveted to the news reports of the huge public outpouring of emotion, because it was all so foreign to me; I couldn't understand it.

And here I am again, puzzled by the reaction to the death of a public figure. I just don't get it. And now I'm simply annoyed by the nonstop media coverage.

I remember being amazed by Michael Jackson when I was a girl -- he was just 2 years older than I and there he was on TV! Wow! I liked his music, but I never bought any of his albums, never watched the videos, never memorized the choreography to Thriller. As his off-stage persona started to ... ummm ... change, I simply turned away in disgust.

And now he's dead. Okay. So what?

I understand that public figures represent something important in our lives. They become symbols for something much greater than ourselves, personifications of our private yearnings. I've read a few people's explanations that Michael Jackson's music was a significant part of their youth: His death underscores the loss of that part of their lives, or the death of their spouse with whom they shared his music. I understand that.

But the rest of it -- the 24/7 obsession, the fervent postings, the nonstop coverage, the intensity of emotion -- I just don't get it.

Call me lazy

... but here's another meme.

1. Someone knocks at your door. You answer it. It's a kid from the local school selling candy bars for a fundraiser. Do you buy one? Nope. Because my kid is probably selling them too.

2. The end of the world is tomorrow and you are out of milk. Do you go buy some? Milk? No. Wine? Absolutely.

3. Have you ever picked up the phone and called someone that you hadn't talked to in years? Yes. A few times. I have a hard time letting go of deep friendships, I find it hard to believe that people who were once so close to each other could just drift apart. Those phone calls have always been good; but the relationships really do just fade away.

4. What's on your computer desktop background? A fractal graphic in pleasing blues and golds

5. What was the very first movie you saw in a movie theater? Fantasia, with my mom when I was in 2nd grade. The next movie in a theater was The Other Side of the Mountain, on my first date when I was 14.

Fourteen?!? I had to look up the release date of the movie ... I had no idea that I was only 14 on my first date. But I wasn't precocious, really. I didn't have another real date for 2 years.

6. If you had to take a 10th-grade science test, do you think you would pass? Probably not. I would do fine on the principles and ideas, but the specific details would escape me.

7. Describe heaven. Tee-hee. This reminds me of my favorite joke.

An interdenominational Bible Study is talking about heaven. Of course they all have different ideas of how you get there, but they do agree that you get to do the things you couldn't do here on earth. The Baptist wants to go dancing; the Methodist plans to get drunk; the Catholic is looking forward to enjoying sex. The Episcopalian scratches his head and says, "Damn! I guess I'm going to be really bored!"

8. Have you ever lived in a place that was infested with some sort of insect or rodent? Ugh. Yes. Cockroaches. Texas-size cockroaches. That push off the wall and fly at you. They still give me the heebie-jeebies.

9. When you were little, did you hide in the clothes racks at department stores? I did. But my more distinct memories are of sitting on the lower shelves of the displays at Hancock Fabrics. For hours. And hours. And hours.

10. Is there anything in your vehicle that is broken? Lots of broken pencils; a broken rear view mirror; a broken mug holder; a broken flashlight; the radio's seek function doesn't work; the right rear speaker is broken ... shall I keep going?

11. What is something in your house that people would be surprised to find? Hmmmm... I'm not sure that people who know me would be surprised by ANYthing they might find in my house. Booze, books, beautiful art, Legos (lots of Legos), keepsakes from the boys' baby years, memories of Nick. Ooooooh! I just thought of something: In my house in Maryland is a box of LPs from my teenage years. There is some terribly bad music in that box.

12. Do you agree with the death penalty? In theory, yes: Some people commit horrific crimes for which they deserve to die. (On the other hand, death is too good for the rapists and child killers.) In practice, especially the way it's handled in this country, no.

In faith, no. I always remember Gandalf's words to Frodo about Gollum: I daresay he deserves death; and many who die deserve life.

13. What's your favorite type of bear? Teddy bears, of course! Both the human and the toy sort.

14. Where was the last place you went? To my friend Beth's house, so our kids could play together.

15. What if that person knocking at your door earlier was an adult selling candy bars? Would you buy one? Ewwwww... no way.

resolution, n.

1. a resolve or determination
2. a solution, accommodation, or settling of a problem
3. Music. the progression of a voice part or of the harmony as a whole from a dissonance to a consonance
4. reduction to a simpler form; conversion.
5. Medicine/Medical. the reduction or disappearance of a swelling or inflammation without suppuration
6. the degree of sharpness of a computer-generated image

I was chatting with a friend Saturday night, and as so often happens in conversations between widoweds, the perennial question arose: WHY? I've said before that I've never asked that question. Oh, sure ... sometimes in the wee hours, a quiet why sobs from my throat. But I've never expended much energy on the question, because I've always known that there is no answer. I've known that if I pursued the question, I would either drive myself crazy looking for the answer or I would go through such mind-logic-faith bending calisthenics to create an answer that I would lose respect for my mind, logic, and faith.

No, I typed. I don't need the answer. What I want is .... long pause .... resolution. I want resolution.

I looked up from my keyboard after typing that, gasped, and laughed. You know what? I already have it. What I saw when I looked up was this painting.

When I brought it home from the gallery three years ago, my exact words were that this painting represented "resolution of the chaos."

My chat on Saturday night brought an epiphany: I needed to name what it is I wanted. And in naming it, I was able to look up and SEE it, to see that I already have it, and not just in a painting over my fireplace.

Resolution: determination, solution, harmony, conversion, well-being, clarity. It's all right there, in that glowing center of the painting. It's all right here, in that glowing center of myself.

A to Z meme

First, I'm working on a post that's taking an uncommonly long time to write.  That's partly because the kids are in my hair 24/7 and partly because ... well how do you explain intuition without sounding shallow? "I just knew it" is pretty unsatisfying.

Second, Annie has borrowed a few blogging ideas from me lately, so I thought I'd better find another one for her! ::grin::

Without further adieu, an alphabet meme:

A - Age: 48
B - Band listening to right now: No music, just the normal morning household sounds
C - Career future: Career... what an interesting concept. I'll go back to being a paid writer/editor someday. But I still have my dream of running a retreat center...
D - Dad's name: Lawrence
E - Easiest person to talk to: That's hard. I turn to different folks for different things or when in different states of mind. My mom. Taina. Beata. Abbe. Nancy.
F - Favorite song: Of what genre? "Unforgettable," "Simply the Best," "Freude, schöner Götterfunken"
G - Gummy Bears or Gummy Worms: Bears
H - Hometown: I can never answer this one. Born in LA, grew up in Dallas, adore Chicago, lived in the DC area for 25 years, am currently in Tucson. Hometown? I have no idea.
I - Instruments: I play the alto and tenor recorders and plink the piano. My favorite instrument is the human voice.
J - Job: was a poor sucker abused by Satan and used by God.
K - Kids: gotta love 'em.
L - Longest car ride ever: from the cemetery back home, to a house without Nick
M - Mom's name: Miriam
N - Number of people you slept with: last night? I woke up next to two boys and a cat
P - Phobia[s]: I hate small places and big crowds
Q - Quote: Those whom we love and lose are no longer where they were before. They are now wherever we are. -- St. John Chrysostom
R - Reason to smile: Because life is good
S - Song you sang last: "Freude, schöner Götterfunken," while linking YouTube to this post
T - Time you wake up: with the sun, about 5:30 these days
U - Unknown fact about me: If I tell you, you'll know!
V - Vegetable you hate: Beets, thanks to my Dad's having force-fed them when I was 4 years old
W - Worst habit: Throwing my clothes on the bedroom chair until the chair has disappeared.
X - X-rays you've had: knees, ankles, elbow, dental. Also abdominal CT scans
Y - Yummy food: Food is yummy! Cheesecake. Steak. Bread. Cucumbers.
Z - Zodiac sign: Capricorn