Stolen Matts

So do you envision sneaking up onto your neighbor's front step and stealing their door mat?  Or gathering a bunch of people with the nick name Matt and taking them off on some boondoggle?  In this case, I refer to the way I groom my very Cranky Boots (tuxedo cat) who is nine and never tolerated well touch or affection, but has glimmers of openness and willingness to receive and give touch and affection, usually late at night when commotion is minimal and other animals and people aren't around.  Most often, at bedtime, upstairs in my quiet bathroom, she will join me where I keep an extra brush and scissor in the event I can steal a matt or two. 

She has always had trouble with grooming. I and our vet don't believe she has mobility or range of motion issues, she is overweight from the year of kitten food when Maizy and Zelda (plucked from a backyard shed at only a few weeks of age off Brady Street in Milwaukee by a dear friend's boys) arrived three years after her adoption, and has never been able to shed the extra weight.  Her Wisconsin vet who was so patient and gentle with her, and never was bitten or scratched by her, told me that some cats are just grungy, perhaps like some people....and don't really do very well in the hygiene department.  I grab the opportunities to steal a matt from Boots when I can, and imagine how  next time I can distract or drug her enough to use the clippers I bought to try to do what the vet did annually, usually leaving her looking like a reverse skunk.

Stealing opportunities is the theme here.  So many times, people will crack a door or window in their encounter with us, and we have an opportunity to be aware enough to notice the door is cracked, and then respond with further reflection or question.  So for example, a friend or family member might look or behave in an unusual or unexpected way, such as looking tearful, or may say, "past relationships have taught me ___", in that moment, consider yourself being given permission to walk through that door,  and respond.  Perhaps you could say "what did you learn, or if you know the variety of past relationships, you can say, you mean Bob or Carol?" As a social worker, I have been trained and practiced at this; as a parent, it is constant and ongoing response, or no response immediately, but dog earring that page and returning when tempers might be more receptive to exploring further what's going on.   

Suicide happens when people feel all alone, and are desperate to stop the pain they feel.  Errors, omissions, oversights, and missed open doors, have happened along the way from their loved ones to their medical care team, to even themselves not seeking help when they know they need it, and not being, more likely, able than necessarily willing to seek yet another opinion if the first or tenth has been another dud.  There is a reason why 12 Step Programs tell us to try at least six meetings, and different meetings if necessary, before giving up on the method.  Every group, every person to whom we may go to for help, is different, human, limited, and perhaps not the one to help us.  We need to find the strength to seek help, or seek an answer from someone we're concerned about.  It will pay off in a path toward healing, never guaranteed to be short or easy.  Be relentless in seeking and serving.  The reward is in knowing you've tried your best. 

Why be Hungry? Hunger Games should not be played?

Disclaimer:  I have not read the books and do not want to see a movie with a trailer that echoes of Sophie's Choice, threat of death, and more death.   It is a mystery to this almost 50 year old mom why we (and our children...) want to read and watch such scary and violent material....The world is so incredibly challenged...every era has challenges.  With Iran and Israel, Afghanistan and Pakistan, and terrorists in Toulousse, the world is so much too much with us.  How can this kind of entertainment be healthy?  How can it help young people to prioritize, or sharpen their values, as the author was shown saying in a clip on the news tonight.  There has to be a greater emphasis on peace, love, and reconciliation.  Not a fantasy of children fighting for their lives.  These children will grow up with a sense that the world is not a good place, that it won't be a good place in the future, and so why not succumb to more penetrating and disturbing ways of entertaining themselves.  During the first Depression and WWII, entertainment was light, airy, and full of hope.  Spirits were lifted.  Some of the greatest songs were composed then.   Screen legends were made.  What would Fred Astaire or Rosemary Clooney say about Hunger Games?  In a world that is starving for so much sustenance:  love, charity, financial rescue, jobs, health, healthcare coverage, and peace in the world, let us feed our society with lifegiving nourishment, and not continue to starve the children.  Let us save them.

Wall Photos (2)

Wall Photos (2)

It's an ADD World

Once upon a time, I believed that ADD was caused by a chaotic home environment, that it wasn't something in the brain which wasn't the same as those without ADD. I was raised in a chaotic home environment, and my life has continued to be very busy, in part, because of the ADD. But I have learned it is unlikely that the ADD was CAUSED by how I grew up. While the brain is most definitely the cause of this "situation", the world around us really doesn't help the "situation". There is the weather: global warming brings us 40 degree days with nearly an inch of rain, and the next day, near zero wind chill and blowing snow. The bombardment of information, of new techo challenges which I don't even try to understand or learn, is enough to cause multi-fragmenting of personality if not ability to accomplish even one thing on the to-do list of the day. The mail brings too many subscriptions to even think of reading in a month, and email is a plague even for those of us without professional attachments that surely quadruples the obligation. There is endless need in the world, from the world's most impoverished to the desperate mom who needs cookies for the bake sale. How do we manage?

The only way I've found to survive this heavy leaning on our already busy minds is to push gently back. Even if we don't accomplish much in a day, to keep the blinders on and pointed at those few things which absolutely must be done today. My grandmother (who passed away at 100 five years ago) had one phrase posted on her frig door and the words were, "Do It Now". I think of that so often, and allow it to help drive me to a place of accomplishment on even a small level. Was it Ben Franklin that said "don't put off tomorrow what you can do today"? Whoever it was knew of which they spoke. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed; we only have today. So how will we leave it? And what state of peace will we rest in at the end of the day? Keep the focus, guard yourself in time and energy, and do what you can with what you have.

At the Threshold of Menopause

On December 13th, I will have a hysterectomy. At 25 I had an orange-sized, extremely unusual, but benign tumor removed along with my right ovary. The concern was that it would become cancerous if it was not removed. The surgery was done at Pennsylvania Hospital, the first hospital in the country though I didn't appreciate that fact at the time, and it was eight weeks of the most critical and contemplative recovery, of peacefulness, I've ever known. I was a new social worker, and was quite exhausted from having worked for a year with 18 girls in varying stages of group and foster care. It made me the person I am today, but the surgery and recovery were a welcome time for healing and reflection on my life and what was to come.

After the surgery, I was told that conception might be problematic, but in fact it wasn't. Pregnancy came four times without effort; the first ending on Christmas Eve three days after discovering the pregnancy, and the last a blessed surprise at age 41. The children have been the greatest blessings in my life. It has never seemed fair that conception should be so easy with only one ovary when in fact so many women can't at all with two. In those early days of my social work profession, I imagined adoption of teenagers, knowing so well the tremendous need. But here now 23 years later and at the doorstep of menopause, I still see the crying need, but find those years have taken their toll in energy and focus. Three active, and at times extraordinarily needful, children are all I can manage. There was a time when I would have laughed at that limitation. Age does have it's benefits. Maybe....

And so now as I celebrate the end of hypervigilance in scans and biopsies, keeping guard for more potentially threatening tumors, as I bleed for the last time, it is with a remarkable relief, but also wariness and fear of how the absence of my natural hormones will affect me, and my family. Reflecting on the lifegiving aspects of my body and the very soon loss of them, results in wonderings and wanderings about how I will be a lifegiving force from here on. Life is the must precious form of gift; it sustains all of us. Will life be significantly changed afterwards? Will the physical and emotional symptoms of instant menopause undo me and torture my family? God-willing, no, but I'm ready and waiting....much like pregnancy. And much like this Advent season. Waiting for a new birth into a new world of freedom from worry and pain, the freedom our Christian faith gives us. Perhaps this will be my fifth child, and perhaps I can take this new child into the world with love and celebration.

In the Wake of Fort Hood

We have memorialized 13 people who have died at the hand of either a terrorist, a disturbed mental health worker, or some combination of both. I am reminded of the day, 26 years ago, when I called the Navy to see about financial aid to go to graduate school for my MSW. When I asked about their putting me through in exchange for service, since I thought I'd be marrying a USNA midshipman, the response was, "ma'm, that's why we have chaplains." That spoke volumes to me about how underrated the need for mental health care in the service was. Apparently, not much has changed. I watched Michael and his classmates struggle through the mental challenges of that school; I met servicemen on the air base in Torrejon, Spain while I was abroad the year before who were in desperate need of support services. And now as I study to become an Episcopal priest, God-willing, I know that this profession is even less equipped to meet the rigorous emotional and psychological demands that are put on our servicement and women. One day when the tables turn, our military will be healthier, and perhaps will be more effective in contributing to keeping Peace in the world.

Eighth Anniversary of September 11 Attacks on the WTC and Pentagon

I am surprised at how emotional I still am on this day. I'm not a New Yorker, I was in the middle of the country on that day, tending my father who was in ICU with meningitis....I had my own personal attack going on, but still, to stand in his bay and watch the coverage, to struggle to find my brother, partner, and my oldest friend, and to make sure my mom was safe in DC, was almost a Herculean effort. So much didn't work on that day. So much fear and uncertainty. And since, so many folks who still struggle with this day. Who seem to have PTSD-like symptoms. The effects of that day are long and deep, and for many will not die til they do.

In New York and in Federal government, it is a hallowed day. Everywhere else, it seems business as usual. Even Google didn't post an image over the letters to remember the day. That was surprising to me. And there's much talk of withdrawing from Afghanistan, where, I thought, Osama Bin Laden was hiding. I never advocate war, but of all the military efforts, I believe this should be one to pursue.

In two weeks, I'll go back to NYC after 17 years away, and I'll go to Ground Zero. Despite the fact it is basically a construction site, it is filled with the memories of those who were lost there, who fought to save there, who ministered there, and who still visit to remember. As with so many of our greatest military victories or defeats, their memories are what teach how to move forward. Our parents were always saying how important it was to 'learn a lesson from this'. And so I wonder if we have....and what will be the result if we haven't.