Words cannot express the gratitude I feel toward my mother in-law for giving me her daughter, my wife. Photos will have to suffice:
Tag Archives: family
Seymour Gratitude
Thanks to many more: Jeannette, Kimberly M., Barbara, Angel, Cherie, chopper pilot of N95CH, front desk/night security, Dr. Jimmy Jackson and staff, hospitality/volunteers, medical eqpt suppliers.
The Earth turns.
“Due to the possibility of interference with medical equipment, it is recommended that you turn your cell phone off in this area. Thank you.”
You’re welcome!
Syncope, Asymptote
I’m not a doctor. I didn’t stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.
I’m part of the generation that created the ability for people to Google their health.
More of what I know about my mother in-law’s condition: syncope?
So it’s Halloween, after all – where are our ideas?
Are some phrases ever overused?
You know, “Don’t Give Up . . . Don’t Ever Give Up.” [or the cinema version, “Never give up, never surrender!“]
I’ll quote Jimmy Valvano’s speech a little more (from here):
“To me, there are three things we all should do every day. We should do this every day of our lives. Number one is laugh. You should laugh every day. Number two is think. You should spend some time in thought. And number three is, you should have your emotions moved to tears, could be happiness or joy. But think about it. If you laugh, you think, and you cry, that’s a full day. That’s a heck of a day. You do that seven days a week, you’re going to have something special.
“Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart, and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever. I thank you and God bless you all.”
During his speech the teleprompter stated that he had 30 seconds left, to which Valvano responded, “They got that screen up there flashing 30 seconds, like I care about that screen. I got tumors all over my body and I’m worried about some guy in the back going 30 seconds.” He died less than two months later.
In the past three days, the doctors thought my mother in-law had lost the use of her left side. The doctors thought my mother in-law had lost the ability to swallow. The doctors have said that, at 94, my mother in-law’s road to recovery from stroke is probably going to be too long, considering the increased chance of the next major stroke, to be worth the effort.
And yet, here she is, after her second time getting up to use the bedside commode with assistance, urinating about 600 mL, asking to get dressed for the day.
Sure, she’s tired. The only nutrition besides water she’s had since Wednesday evening is 6 ounces of apple juice.
In a little while, I’ll see if she wants something more substantive – apple sauce, yogurt or ice cream.
If she wants to make herself better, I’ll assist her, as will the rest of the family, as we have done in the past four years and three previous “spells” in 2007, 2008, and April of this year.
My mother in-law is a quiet fighter full of fortitude, one of the last members of the Greatest Generation – her two children by birth, a son and a daughter, becoming a physicist and rocket engineer, respectively, and her “adopted” daughter, or charge, marrying and supporting a man who became a gastroenterologist.
Because of the doctors’ recommendation to let my mother in-law go quietly into the night, we held back our hope that she’d recover this time.
Of course, she could have a major stroke or myocardial infarction at any time.
Life is uncertain so keep making your way through life with certainty, no matter whether you’re a member of the Greatest Generation or the Un-Generation.
Time for this caretaker to help his mother in-law gain strength.
Family first, galaxy second.
“I can’t take it anymore…I’m going crazy!”
Stain with a stitched-up nose after volunteering to carry a dresser, smiling at Beauregard’s – happy early 21st!
A young woman attempting to test students and categorise them into standards without administering a standardised test.
Stephanie from Brookdale Place Dining Services delivering sandwiches while we finished moving in.
Morgan with blue eyes at the PetSmart checkout counter.
Tommy’s Pizza.
Saying goodbye to Leonard, Brenda, Rob, Kerri, Daryl and the rest of the HarborChase staff.
Kelly the herbalist, Jenn the rocket propulsion specialist, April the doctor of chiropractic.
Was that Todd Lumpkin visiting a relative at HarborChase?
Thanks to Robert, Matt and Kennedy at Two Men and a Truck; Tonya H at the Gondolier in Athens, TN.
Getting your husband a one-day pass on the local military base so he can drop you off and take your car for its scheduled maintenance.
Thanks to Mike at Bill Penney Toyota service dept. for taking care of our 2002 Camry with 190k+ miles.
To Mrs. Rozier, happy early 85th!
In one week, it’s possible to find out your company lost a government contract, you get hired by the winning company, move your mother from one assisted living community to another (arranging a lot of background logistics), attend dance class for two hours, take your mother to visit friends at her hometown, stroll through a street festival, attend a college football game, see friends at a ’70s sock hop for high school classes 1970-1980, eat lunch with in-laws and…what else? Wash clothes, buy cat food, prepare to teach a scrapbooking class…oh yeah, and think you lost an important refund check that causes you to say out loud in a carpark, “I can’t take it anymore…I’m going crazy!”
Frustrated, you return home, rummage through some old bills and find an envelope full of dividend checks and the all-important refund check.
All is good.
You can jump on facebook and read happy messages from your friends.
And then put clothes in the dryer / clothes in the washer, fold clothes, pet/feed the cats, and finally, after washing your face and brushing your teeth, crawl into bed with your husband in a safe and secure middle-class home.
Life is grand.
And then you get to do it all over again!
We Keep Our Promise
And now, as promised, an excerpted entry (or three) from Erma Bombeck:
From Trick or Treat…Sweetheart
Mentally, I began to draw up a list of rules and regulations that would give Halloween back to the little children. How do you know when you are too old to go “begging”?
- You’re too old to go begging when your mask tickles your moustache.
- You’re too old when you’ve figured out the only thing a penny will buy is your weight and you’re watching it.
- You’re too old when you drive yourself to the subdivisions.
- You’re too old when you say “thank-you” and your voice is changing.
- You’re too old when you are rapping on the door and
Johnny CarsonJay LenoConan O’BrienJay LenoJimmy FallonCarson Dalythe six o’clock news is signing off. - You’re too old when you reach over to close your bag and your cigarettes fall out of your pocket.
- You’re too old when you have a sign on your bag that reads, “Personal Checks Accepted.”
- You’re too old when the lady of the house turns you on more than the candy apple* she just gave you. [*vacuum-sealed at the factory, of course!]
= = = – ->
From The Seven-Inch Plague
In 1946, the suburbs suffered its first plague.
Its name was television and by 1966, it would enslave sixty-two million families.
The disease looked harmless enough — a seven-inch screen that looked like a hand mirror. We put it on the bookcase in the living room, got a vanity bench from the bedroom and positioned our eyeballs 16 inches from the screen where we became mesmerized as a full-grown woman carried on a conversation with two puppets.
…My husband’s addiction to television grew steadily worse. He became a sports addict who was in a catatonic state twelves months out of every year.
…Approached a lawyer to have him considered legally dead. [The lawyer] said I would have to keep a log of my husband’s behavior over a year’s period of time. I began to keep a diary in August.
AUGUST
The fifteenth of this month was visiting day for the children. Waiting for a beer commercial, I lined them up and said stiffly, “Children, this is your father.” He offered them a pretzel at the same time watching a beer can dancing with a hot dog.
SEPTEMBER
The set went out today during the Dallas-Los Angeles game.
I left him sitting in front of the black screen screaming and cheering. Maybe I can talk some sense to him when he is watching the commercial that isn’t there.
JANUARY
I’m terribly concerned about what’s-his-name. He has watched more bowls this month than the restroom attendant at Kennedy Airport.
FEBRUARY
Tonight, I slid into a nightgown made of Astro-Turf, and sat on the arm of the chair.
MARCH
He is alive (if you call this living) and is being fed intravenously on a diet of basketball, baseball, golf, and hockey.
There is something very unnatural about a man who has a niche in the wall and every day puts fresh flowers under a picture of George Blanda.
MAY
We put his mother in knee socks, shin guards, and a hockey face mask and shoved her in front of his chair for Mother’s Day.
My husband was watching a ping-pong game and granted her an audience for only a few seconds.
JUNE
In an attempt to clean out all the old things we never use any more, I realized that I had inadvertently set my husband at the curb on top of a rusted bicycle.
“It does a lot of thing,” I said [to the driver of the truck]. “It eats leftovers, contributes body heat to a room, and can quote more statistics than the Sports Almanac. We use him for a doorstop.”
JULY
“I’m leaving you,” I said calmly. “I can’t stand it any more — the loneliness, the boredom, the roller derbies, the golf tournaments, the snacks. I’m young. I have all my own teeth. I want to see a movie besides the Frazier-Ali fight. I want to dance and drink champagne from a slipper. Do you understand?”
“Shh,” he said, “there’s a commercial coming up. The one where the beer can dances with the hot dog.”
= = = – ->
And lastly, from The Suburban Myth
Take me. Please. My vocabulary has been reduced to five sentences which I mumble like a robot every day of my life. They never change.
- Close the door.
- Don’t talk with food in your mouth.
- Check out the clothes hamper.
- I saw you playing with the dog so go wash your hands.
- You should have gone before you left home.
The responses never vary — not in ten years of child raising. One night at a party, I drifted into the kitchen in search of an ice cube when a devastating man leaned over my shoulder and said, “Hello there, beautiful.”
“Close the door,” I said mechanically.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he progressed. “My name is Jim and you are ????”
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth.”
“Hey, you’re cute. I like a sense of humor. What say we freshen up your drinkypoo and find a nice, quiet spot all to ourselves.”
“Check out the clothes hamper,” I said brusquely.
He hesitated, looking around cautiously, “Are you putting me on? I mean we aren’t on Candid Camera or anything are we?” He slipped his arm around my waist.
“I saw you playing with the dog so go wash your hands.”
His arm dropped and he edged his way to the door. “Listen, you stay put,” he said, “I’ve got something to attend to.”
“Tell me you didn’t,” said Helen.
I yelled after him, “You should have gone before you left home.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
Never.
After the Bridge Game
In the suburbs of middle-class America in the 1970s, adults gathered for bridge club games, serving hors d’oeuvres that showcased popular supermarket products and recipes of the time – crackers, soda, wine, cheese spreads, minisandwiches – while children played outside, downstairs, in their rooms or back at their homes while babysitted.
It was a special time.
Men and women reminisced about their college years – sorority socials, sock hops, late-night study sessions, sports injuries, choral performances.
Now, sitting in an independent/assisted living community with your peers, you recall both the college years and the ’70s reminiscing.
Your children, grownup with children (and grandchildren) of their own.
Computers, email, electronic social networks…words and phrases you’ve heard about on TV or read about in newspapers but otherwise completely unfamiliar to you.
Your time is free and yet paid for.
Still more comfortable with friends your age than being the “wise” [great]grandmother/aunt.
Social graces your specialty – polite discussions about sports, wishing all players a safe game, no extreme fan behaviour or rude demeanor; religious beliefs assumed, not worn on your sleeve like a badge; politics a personal decision, not an in-your-face confrontation.
In your day, this seemed to be the most common form of conversation.
Now, rudeness and crudeness prevail. Headlines blast drug abuse, sex scandals and economic turmoil like a disease run out of control.
When did the least common denominator become most prevalent?
Why can’t we raise everyone up instead of putting people down?
Finally, you stop subscribing to newspapers, magazines and cable/satellite television.
Instead, you increase the number of weekly bridge club games and reminisce with people who understand your desire to live in simpler, quieter, kinder times.
A lifetime of experiences you share and compare, not preach to younger generations.
The Middle Class, Buddha, “Office Plankton,” and Educationalism
Great commentary of the day, from last week, that is:
The middle class, as the Buddha, chose a middle path, skillfully maneuvering between conformism and prison
Писатель Александр Генис — о том, почему современный «офисный планктон» должен завидовать своим родителям Writer Alexander Genis – about why the modern “office plankton” should be jealous of their parents
Александр Генис Alexander Genis
— Образованщина, — вынес профессор приговор целой эпохе, и вся аудитория привычно пригорюнилась. – Smatterers – Professor sentence handed down an entire era, and the entire audience accustomed prigoryunilas.
Одних участников этой конференции я знал давно, других — лично, третьих — по имени. Some participants in this conference, I knew a long time, others – in person, the third – by name. Тем удивительнее, с какой готовностью все эти незаурядные люди, собравшиеся в редакции толстого и уважаемого журнала, согласились перечеркнуть молодость и признать за своим поколением вину, которую на него взвалило обидное прозвище. More surprising how readily all these extraordinary people who gathered in the wording of the large and respected magazine, have agreed to cross the youth and to recognize the guilt of their generation, which hoisted him to embarrassing nickname.
По-моему, такое можно объяснить только одним: властью термина. In my opinion, this can only be explained by one thing: the power of the term. Я ощутил ее на себе, когда перебрался в Америку. I felt it on myself, when he moved to America. Живя в стране, которую мы не задумываясь называли социалистической, я пребывал в слепой уверенности, что за океаном меня ждет то же самое, только наоборот. Living in a country that we do not hesitate to call a socialist, I was in a blind belief that the ocean is waiting for me the same thing, only in reverse. В моем словаре антитеза родному режиму называлась одним словом — капитализм. In my dictionary the antithesis of the native mode is called in one word – capitalism. И я употреблял его с легкой душой и без задних мыслей, пока меня не остановил мой друг и редактор на «Радио Свобода». And I used it with a light heart and without ulterior motives, until I stopped by my friend and editor at the “Radio Freedom”.
— Разве ты марксист? – Are you a Marxist? — спросил он, добравшись в моем скрипте до полемического абзаца. – He asked, reaching into my script to polemical paragraph.
— Как ты мог подумать! – How could you think! — обиделся я. – I was offended.
— Почему же ты делишь мир так, как это удобно им, а не тебе? – Why did you delish world as it is convenient to them and not you?
Я не нашелся что ответить, но с тех пор никогда не позволяю чужому термину отобрать мою реальность. I do not know what to answer, but since then never allow a stranger to the term away my reality. А ведь именно это сделал Солженицын, когда брезгливо вычеркнул из соотечественников целый класс, который мы бы сейчас назвали «средним» — несмотря на все оговорки, которых требовала трудная история, сумасшедшая власть и нетривиальная экономика. And that is exactly what Solzhenitsyn did, when struck with disgust from fellow entire class, which we would now call “middle” – Despite all the reservations, which require a difficult story, a crazy non-trivial power and economy. Ведь ничего среднего в этом «среднем классе» не было — ни в доходах, ни в образовании, ни в интересах, ни в выпивке. Indeed, nothing in the middle “middle class” was not – neither the income nor education, nor in the interests of, or in drink. Как все тогда, он был соткан из крайностей, противоречий и отличался невоздержанностью. Like all the time, it was woven from the excesses, contradictions, and different intemperance. Бедность тут компенсировали любознательностью, свободу заменяли дружбой, политику — самиздатом, заграницу — байдаркой, все остальное — водкой. Poverty then compensated for curiosity, freedom replaced by friendship, politics – samizdat, abroad – kayak, all the rest – vodka.
По Солженицыну, образованщину составлял тот слой образованных людей, который не разделял его религиозные и национальные взгляды. According to Solzhenitsyn, was smatterers the layer of educated people, who did not share his religious and national views. По мне, в нее входили папа с мамой плюс все, с кем они дружили. For me, it included mum and dad, plus all those with whom they were friends. Иногда их называли аббревиатурой «ИТР», и в этом было много правды, потому что от «инженерно-технических работников» обычно требовалось меньше мерзости, чем от гуманитариев, а интересы у них были те же. Sometimes called the acronym “TDI”, and there was a lot of truth, because of the “engineers” are usually required less filth than from the humanities, and the interests they were the same.
Сейчас уже забыли, а может, и не знали, что всему хорошему обычная советская жизнь обязана не властям и не диссидентам, а именно и только «образованщине». It is now forgotten, and maybe did not know what all the good normal life must not the Soviet authorities and the dissidents, but it is only “educationalism.” Они были подписчиками толстых журналов, в которых тлела общественная мысль. They have been subscribed literary journals, which smoldered social thought. Они знали наизусть все песни Окуджавы. They knew by heart all the songs of Okudzhava. Они боготворили Тарковского и понимали Феллини. They worshiped Tarkovsky and Fellini understood. Они раскупали миллионы умных книг. They bought up millions of smart books. Они придумывали анекдоты и шутили в КВН. They came up with anecdotes and jokes in the WHC. Они стояли ночами за билетами на Таганку. They stood there at night to get tickets to Taganka. Они распространяли самиздат, включая ту самую статью Солженицына, где их обвиняли в космополитизме, атеизме, трусости и бездуховности. They distributed samizdat, including the very same article by Solzhenitsyn, where they were accused of cosmopolitanism, atheism, cowardice, and lack of spirituality.
Сейчас кажется, что все это — пустяки, но тогда они ими не были. Now it seems that all of this – nothing, but then they do not have them. Средний класс, как Будда, выбирал средний путь, умело лавируя между конформизмом и тюрьмой. The middle class, as the Buddha, chose a middle path, skillfully maneuvering between conformism and a prison. Такой образ жизни требовал ума, жертв и совести. This way of life demanded of mind and conscience of the victims. Например, делать карьеру и избегать подлости. For example, a career and to avoid infamy. Отличать своих и терпеть чужих. Distinguish their own and other people suffer. Боготворить культуру и верить в ее искупительную силу. Worship culture and believe in its redemptive power.
В том мире многого не хватало — выборов, парламента, заграничного паспорта и всегда денег. In the world many things are not enough – the elections, parliament, passport and money always. Но было и много лишнего, больше всего — просвещения. But there was a lot of nonsense, most of all – education. Первый томик Мандельштама я обменял на двухнедельную зарплату пожарного — дороже стихов не бывает. The first volume of Mandelstam I traded in two week’s wages of fire – more poetry does not happen. Уже в Америке я познакомился с дамой, которая на пару с «Эрикой» заменила печатный станок. Even in America, I met a lady who for a couple of the “Erika” has replaced the printing press. Только «Собачье сердце» она перепечатала 200 раз. Only the “Heart of a Dog,” she reprinted 200 times.
Время «образованщины», как, собственно, и предсказывал Солженицын, кончилось. Time “educationalism” as, indeed, predicted Solzhenitsyn ended. Скептики полагают, что ее заменил «офисный планктон» — с узкими интересами и широкими возможностями. Skeptics believe that it replaced the “office plankton” – with narrow interests and great potential. Мне говорят, что они осторожны, потому что им есть что терять. I say they are careful because they have something to lose. Они не любознательны, потому что уже все видели. They are not curious, because I already saw everything. Они не рвутся за колею, потому что обходятся комфортом. They do not rush for the track, because the cost comfort.
Возможно, это и так, но я не берусь судить, чтобы не повторять прежних ошибок. Maybe so, but I do not presume to judge, not to repeat past mistakes. Мы не видим достижений своего времени, ибо их заслоняют его более наглядные пороки. We do not see the achievements of his time, because they hide it more obvious flaws.
У тех, кто живет сегодня, другой набор ценностей. For those who live today, a different set of values. Их труднее удивить и проще разочаровать. They are harder to surprise and disappoint easier. Они уже не живут на кухне, меньше пьют, не боятся границ, знают языки и ценят свободу, хотя бы виртуальную. They no longer live in the kitchen, drink less, are not afraid of borders, languages and know the value freedom, even if virtual. Они слишком сильно отличаются от своих родителей, чтобы их понимать, не говоря уже — завидовать. They are too different from their parents to understand them, not to mention – envy. И все же каждый раз, когда заходит речь о том, что надежда любой страны — ее средний класс, стоит вспомнить, что он был и тогда, когда его назвали «образованщиной» и считали ошибкой. And yet every time it comes to that hope of any country – its middle class, it is worth remembering that it was and when it was called “educationalism” and considered an error.
Time for me to join the hunger strike?
I had such hopes for reforming government in India, providing private support for the protestors. Bu,t with the government only offering “nonbinding” legislation, it’s time to increase the protest.
Besides, I can afford to lose some weight.
Happy Anniversary!
HAPPY 55TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY to my parents.