The Best in Us

Matthew, my nephew,  has always embodied the best in all of us.

I remember standing in the common area of my college suite, back when phones were still attached to walls.   I remember my mother saying,  "You're an aunt, your sister had a little boy."  (This was also back in the days where the sex wasn't known or revealed until the birth.) "Yes, yes, Celia is fine, just tired.  You can call her tomorrow".   I asked for his name.   Matthew. 

I walked up to the Main Street of the perfect college town, alone.  I entered the picturesque little church where I uttered a prayer of thanks, a request for his protection and my promise of love.  I didn't know it at the time but it was the first nearly selfless, adult prayer of my life. 

Matthew has always embodied what is best in all of us.  Matt has never disappointed me. He has a limitless generosity of spirit.  He sees the best in everyone and everything.  He has a capacity to love with a passion and pureness that some call pathological.   His love of God has often been questioned and even criticized.

Matt loves and admires all the men in the family but he went his own road.  His creative talents were gifts which he studied, utilized and worked tirelessly to improve.  However he also made the decision to add to his creative resume.  He embarked on study,  seeking a degree that would provide him, his new wife and their future with some security.

I visited with Matt and his wife, Amber, recently.  She also has a huge capacity to love and Amber has taught us a valuable lesson.  Amber sees and loves Matt as a man and her husband.   It is her love that has helped us to fully respect and honor Matthew as an adult.

My recent visit was because Matt was turning 30 and Amber was throwing a birthday party for him.  Early in the evening Matt proudly told me that he and Amber were expecting a baby.  I found myself uttering a prayer in my heart similar to the one I had prayed for Matthew 30 years ago.

I cannot wait to be a grand aunt and to watch this new life find it's way in the world.   The day after the party I sat at the tired old piano at my sisters house.  I remembered all the time spent tickling the old cracked ivories and I reflected on the happy hours passed there .  

I had a glimpse of sitting there with my grand nephew and I heard him complain to his granny "Can't we get a new piano Grandma?" and before my sister could reply, I heard Matthew gently reply to his son, "No."   

And of course being the offspring of the best in us, a simple "no" would never suffice.  Matthew of course would not expect that is should.  I lost myself in the pleasant fantasy of seeing my "little Matthew" patiently and kindly explaining to his son, the long and loving relationship that the old piano has shared with our family.

And I'm sure the new young man will love all the men in the family.  I am also sure that he will follow his heart and blaze his own trail.  I hope one day that he too will have a partner who loves him and will teach us all to respect him as a man and as an adult.

I sure am glad that I am old and my trails are blazed.  

Dolphins

There's something in their way of going that fills me with longing.  I want to be one.  To share their muscle meets fat rubbery form.  To be safely ensconced in their world of weightless play.  

The motion is euphoric, winter or summer the cresting and then submersion.  I fantasize about a life without pain.  My tired soul smiles gratitude when I see them on a pain-less day or I am moved to tears when I see them dancing,  while I ache with envy and illness. 

They live in a universe apart and yet they are my neighbors, I see them often.  I wonder if they are capable of envy.  I can't imagine that we are the objects of it.  They just seem to be doing a better job at life below and above .  I envy them, their playful grace and ready smile.

I did not realize until recently that in addition to envy, I emulate them.  I have always feared pain and illness, from a very young age I became terrified that illness and death could stroll unawares into a young healthy life.

I d0 not fear pain and illness so much as I fear missing out on the fun, the joy, the mixed blessing of life.  I do not give in to pain and illness but there's little bravery involved.  I have to be really suffering and terribly ill to stay in bed. Staying in bed requires bravery, the bravery to relinquish control and face the loneliness and boredom of ill health.

Maybe I am dolphin-esque. I see their smiling eyes and joyful countenance  but what do they see in return? They see me, smiling in the sunlight or pensive on a pale grey day. Perhaps they envy me or perhaps they think I'm a big faker.

I am a faker.  Maybe they are fakers too.

I still envy them.  And I always will.

Blog Block

I am still living.  I have been suffering with post holiday apathy, too much pain and now my cat is dying.  All the essential ingredients for Blog Block.  

I have thought of several ideas for a post but they were not worthy of your time, dear reader. (Is there really more than one of you?)  

I must admit I emerged from post holiday apathy long enough to rejoice in the inauguration of the forty forth president of the United States.  He's smart, direct, well spoken and he's NOT a Republican.  Yes, for me the real rejoicing came after Christmas this year.

Too much pain?  When I say that, it's too much.  I am currently off my meds for Rheumatoid Arthritis.  I was on four meds.  They were making me fat, bald and cranky and weren't controlling the pain.  If I have to be a fat, bald bitch, I want some pain relief in the mix.

I started Enbrel last week, it's a once a week sub cutaneous injection.  It can take a while to work so for now, I'm in too much pain.

My cat dying, I'm not ready to write about that.  I just found out Friday.  I am hanging on to Denial, my favorite not dealing, way of dealing.  Hey it's worked for me for a quarter of a century.  It's the least I can do for my little baby.

So, I am sorry for the hiatus.  I hope to be more regular for the rest of the year.  I will check in once a week even if it's as banal as this depressing post.  Happy New Year.   

Bye bye W.

A breeze

a blizzard of leaves

rustling voice of the trees

and inexplicable glee

(I have forgiven the woods.)

Betrayal

(NOTE: Last week half of a dead tree fell on my head.)

The screeching pain in my head

and the hurt feelings subside,

A large tender bump recedes

and relief - a scan provides,

I don't understand. What did I do?I

have devoted my self to you.

I rush to be with you each day,

to bask in your beauty, to think, to pray.

It was an accident, I know,

you didn't mean it, yes, I see

that I don't know you

and you don't know me.

So I will return with

a surgeon - and she

will prune and will preen

and then you shall be

Incapable of betraying me.

Thanks for Everything

Gratitude is good medicine and it's an excellent practice. There is wisdom in the way autumnal and winter holidays fall. We are in the suicide season of dark shortening days and long cold nights. Hunger (of all sorts), loneliness, melancholic nostalgia all thrive at this time of the year. Past traumas, disappointments and deaths are highlighted, especially if they occurred during this suicidal season.


To reflect then, on gratitude, on what we have, what we may have been given and what we take for granted, is a noble distraction. We all criticize the business aspects and commercialism of this season. However, in a small degree the activity is therapeutic. I'm not talking about standing in line for four hours for some useless electronic gadget that will prove to you peers, for one fleeting second that you are a success.


I'm talking about lesser things. I am cleaning my oven today. Usually I just move to a new house when an oven gets dirty. I'm grateful that I love where I live enough to clean my oven. I have a beautiful dead bird in my refrigerator and I want to roast her in a clean oven. Tomorrow I will rise early, peel, chop, stuff and enjoy the smell of the roasting turkey. I will be surrounded by people I love, that's enough to be grateful for forever, the people who walk through all the seasons of our lives.


The activity of the holidays only provide respite for a day or so. And I have many things to be grateful for every moment of my life. I have learned through the process of suffering and a fledgling understanding of spirituality (based in part on suffering), to be grateful for it all.


I am grateful for the miracle of my body. Micro-miracles like a bone in my hand or a joint in my thumb. Extraordinary engineering. I am grateful for the nasty disease which I have been diagnosed with, Rheumatoid Arthritis, which is slowly destroying the joints in my hands. RA brought my attention to these miraculous tools.


I am grateful for the tiniest little flower I saw this morning on a bush. It's stunning effort to reproduce in the face of brutal cold and approaching winter.


I am grateful for all of my illnesses, traumas and losses. They made me so miserable that I had to look inside for joy. The joy that enables me to feel wonder and delight in the simplest external occasions of beauty and goodness, things that I used to hurry past in my quest for more and better.


Happiness and goodness can not exist without despair and loss. I am grateful for that dynamic and so many other things that I will never understand. I am thankful for my ignorance as it helps me to achieve a level of humility and detachment . I do not recommend deliberate ignorance or assuming a lack of interest. I refer to the acknowledgment that there are so many things I can never understand. I must learn to let go and move on.


I hope that I can live in a posture of gratitude for everything. I know that it's impossible to accomplish this but I hope I keep returning to the effort. For me this has been an essential piece of the life puzzle. This is the piece that leads me to happiness and genuine gratitude. So as we Americans celebrate with too much food, too much football and wonderful, general merriment, I say thanks. Thanks for everything.

Freaked Out

This kitty looks like I feel these days. (Sorry photo of freaked out kitty has been removed, please use your imagination, a terrified kitty being carried from a burning building by a huge fireman.)The state of South Carolina in her infinite ignorance has made some changes to Medicaid benefits. They used to cover most of my prescription medications. No small feat as I rely on over 20 prescriptions a month.

I was informed recently that they would only cover six prescriptions a month with four "emergency overrides". Ten, ten prescriptions a month. So, if this be the case, I must choose which disease I prefer to treat. Hmmm, lovely. Let's see, would I like to continue to treat my Rheumatoid Arthritis or will I treat the HIV?

I can see no point in treating HIV if I have to live with the pain of RA. I can see no point in treating RA if I am spiralling into a pit of "full blown AIDS". Been there, done that, several times. Not again, thank you. Maybe I will simply fill up my basket as follows:

Anti depressants x1
Anti anxiety meds x 1
Pain Medications x4 (all the fun ones)

Well, that about does it. Not a pretty picture no matter which way I go. But of course, being a "long term survivor", I'll make it work. I will wear myself out on the phone with social workers, pharmacies, drug manufacturers. All of the people I speak with will probably be younger than my virus. They certainly will not have worked in their area for as long as I've lived with my illness.

It really does get old. Sometimes, I hate this fuc#*&% country! I lived abroad for over six years and never even paid for an aspirin. I have friends in the UK and Ireland that are employed as social workers or in various areas medicine. In their own words, "they just can't wrap their heads around this kind of situation".

Are we EVER going to reform health care? There's a democrat on deck for the white house and the government after next January will certainly appear more concerned with this and other questions that the republicans virtually ignored. But the mess this country is in is so critical in many areas and will make heavy demands on the new administration. I am delighted with the way the election turned out. But I will wait to see if my life improves as a person living with long term illness.

The poor screeching kitty in the photo would probably rather not be in the rescuing arms of the fire fighter but the alternative is even more dire. I wonder if I have the energy to hit the street screeching (again) or will I retreat into the private dignity of my personal crumbling building.