Saturday was a very tough and emotional day for me. I attended the memorial for a former co-worker and friend who had died suddenly in December. He was three years younger than me. This was my second service in a three day period for someone who had died. Now that I am in middle years, I have come to realize that events like this will be happening more and more often.
The memorial was held at a beautiful new home of a couple that my deceased friend knew. Many of our former co-workers were also in attendance, so in some way, it was also a reunion. One of my closest friends drove two and a hours from another city to come to the memorial. A former high school friend of deceased travelled all the way from Colorado.
The reality of my own mortality and that of friends and family is now all too real.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Friday, January 28, 2005
A Loony Old Lady
Yesterday was my friend's father's funeral. Because he was so old, I was surprised that over 200 people attended the service. The church bells tolled 89 times, one for each year of his life. Immediately following the service, we all gathered in one of the church halls so that my friend's family could greet all the people who had taken the time to attend the funeral. My friend's 85 year old mother stood for over an hour and a half greeting each attendee personally.
As we were talking to some of the people there, an elderly woman came up and started talking with my husband and my friend's younger brother and sister. This lady (Miss H) had been their kindergarten teacher. When my husband mentioned that he had gone to kindergarten at that school, the woman asked what was his name. After he told her, she remarked that she remembered him and made several specific comments about him. He looked completely surprised by what she said.
As we walking to the car, he turned to me and said, "That woman was a loony. She had to be blowing smoke. I don't remember her." I asked him if Miss H was his kindergarten teacher or not. He replied that he did not remember who was his teacher, but said that no one could remember their students from 50 years ago. I commented that the woman seemed very sharp.
My husband dropped me off at my friend's mother's house while he went to visit his own mother who was home sick with the flu. While there, he told her about Miss H and the comments she had made about him. His mother then said, Miss H was right and she WAS your kindergarten teacher!
As we were talking to some of the people there, an elderly woman came up and started talking with my husband and my friend's younger brother and sister. This lady (Miss H) had been their kindergarten teacher. When my husband mentioned that he had gone to kindergarten at that school, the woman asked what was his name. After he told her, she remarked that she remembered him and made several specific comments about him. He looked completely surprised by what she said.
As we walking to the car, he turned to me and said, "That woman was a loony. She had to be blowing smoke. I don't remember her." I asked him if Miss H was his kindergarten teacher or not. He replied that he did not remember who was his teacher, but said that no one could remember their students from 50 years ago. I commented that the woman seemed very sharp.
My husband dropped me off at my friend's mother's house while he went to visit his own mother who was home sick with the flu. While there, he told her about Miss H and the comments she had made about him. His mother then said, Miss H was right and she WAS your kindergarten teacher!
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Being Connected
Today I spent most of the afternoon with my friend of nearly 40 years and her family making arrangements for her father's funeral service tomorrow. This wonderful family has always treated me like their daughter or sister, and I desperately wanted to help them in any way that I could.
When I arrived at their home, my friend and her younger sister asked me to put together a photo collage to honor their father. He was a very accomplished man who had been honored in his profession at the highest levels for scientific innovation and achievement. That part, along with the obligatory family portraits, was the easy part of putting together the collage. However, most of us are not just defined by our achievements in our careers or our families. What really defines us and deferentiates us from one another is our personal lives.
Keeping that in mind, I took various photos and placed them in what I saw as a pleasing artistical arrangement, but one that emphasized this gentle giant of a man as a human being. I found old photos of him as a young military officer in India during World War II, playing tennis as a younger man, gardening in his middle ages, and bird watching and hand raising a fledgling mocking bird in his later years. When I was done, I had placed a picture of him as a four year old along side that of an elderly man holding a young mocking bird perched on his finger as the centerpieces of the photo collage.
While the collage had been arranged, none of the pieces had been secured until I got a sign off from my friend's mother. I waited until she returned home from having her hair done for the funeral. My friend's mother is a very vibrant and still very beautiful 85 year old lady with a mind as sharp as an ice pick. I asked her if she had any requests or changes to the photo collage before I attached the pictures to the backing. She looked at the collage and commented on every picture. Then she said that she was so thrilled that I had truly captured the man she had fallen in love with and married, not just his accomplishments.
For years I have always said that I am very connected to my friend in a way that is almost like a sister. Today, I realized that I am also very connected to this wonderful family as if they were truly my own flesh and blood.
When I arrived at their home, my friend and her younger sister asked me to put together a photo collage to honor their father. He was a very accomplished man who had been honored in his profession at the highest levels for scientific innovation and achievement. That part, along with the obligatory family portraits, was the easy part of putting together the collage. However, most of us are not just defined by our achievements in our careers or our families. What really defines us and deferentiates us from one another is our personal lives.
Keeping that in mind, I took various photos and placed them in what I saw as a pleasing artistical arrangement, but one that emphasized this gentle giant of a man as a human being. I found old photos of him as a young military officer in India during World War II, playing tennis as a younger man, gardening in his middle ages, and bird watching and hand raising a fledgling mocking bird in his later years. When I was done, I had placed a picture of him as a four year old along side that of an elderly man holding a young mocking bird perched on his finger as the centerpieces of the photo collage.
While the collage had been arranged, none of the pieces had been secured until I got a sign off from my friend's mother. I waited until she returned home from having her hair done for the funeral. My friend's mother is a very vibrant and still very beautiful 85 year old lady with a mind as sharp as an ice pick. I asked her if she had any requests or changes to the photo collage before I attached the pictures to the backing. She looked at the collage and commented on every picture. Then she said that she was so thrilled that I had truly captured the man she had fallen in love with and married, not just his accomplishments.
For years I have always said that I am very connected to my friend in a way that is almost like a sister. Today, I realized that I am also very connected to this wonderful family as if they were truly my own flesh and blood.
Two Friends.
Two of my three closest female friends have the same first name. These two women have never met each other. Recently, both of them have been dealing with heartache and hard times.
My first friend and I have been friends for nearly forty years. We met when we both first came to college. She was extremely intelligent and had skipped two grades in school, so she was barely 16 when she started college. Her family lived in town and they always treated me like their fourth daughter. Because my friend now lives in a distant part of the state, we do not see each other except when she comes to visit her family. This week she is in town because her father died and his service is tomorrow. He had been very ill for several years, so his death was a relief from his suffering. Nevertheless, his passing has left a tremendous void for all of us in my other family.
My second friend and I have been close for nearly twenty years. We first met through running and used to run together nearly every weekday morning at 5 am. We would talk and talk about nearly everything. During those runs, we have shared our heartaches and disappointments. She knows more about me than nearly anyone else and was always there for me when I needed someone. She and her husband were married on the same date as my husband and I, only ten years later. They had their three children late in life. Unfortunately, they are now in the process of being divorced and it has become nasty. My heart aches for her because she had tried everything to salvage the marriage for the sake of their children.
Recent events with these two friends reminds me that even though the road of life goes on, it can be very bumpy at times. Friendship is what helps even out those bumps.
My first friend and I have been friends for nearly forty years. We met when we both first came to college. She was extremely intelligent and had skipped two grades in school, so she was barely 16 when she started college. Her family lived in town and they always treated me like their fourth daughter. Because my friend now lives in a distant part of the state, we do not see each other except when she comes to visit her family. This week she is in town because her father died and his service is tomorrow. He had been very ill for several years, so his death was a relief from his suffering. Nevertheless, his passing has left a tremendous void for all of us in my other family.
My second friend and I have been close for nearly twenty years. We first met through running and used to run together nearly every weekday morning at 5 am. We would talk and talk about nearly everything. During those runs, we have shared our heartaches and disappointments. She knows more about me than nearly anyone else and was always there for me when I needed someone. She and her husband were married on the same date as my husband and I, only ten years later. They had their three children late in life. Unfortunately, they are now in the process of being divorced and it has become nasty. My heart aches for her because she had tried everything to salvage the marriage for the sake of their children.
Recent events with these two friends reminds me that even though the road of life goes on, it can be very bumpy at times. Friendship is what helps even out those bumps.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
Hurricanes and Resilience
My elderly parents live in central Florida. By central Florida, I mean smack dab in the center of the state, equidistant from both the east and west coasts. This past year (2004) was the worst year in memory for hurricanes in Florida with four major hurricanes hitting one part or another of the state. My parents' home is located near ground zero for centers for three of those four hurricanes.
The first hurricane to hit them was Charley, which came up through central Florida after entering the state on the southwest coast. It had winds that were estimated to be 100 mph winds when it came through my parents' area. Although my parents' home fared well and damage to the rest of their property was minimal, they were among the few fortunate people in their neighborhood.
Much of central Florida has a very high water table. When the heavy winds struck, many trees toppled easily due to their root systems being so shallow. Nearly every mature tree in parents' neighborhood was downed and about half of the homes had significant roof damage. In addition, the electrical systems were destroyed throughout the area. Since my parents lived in an unincorporated area, they were among the last of those to have power restored.
Consequently, my 82 year old parents camped out in their house for three days while waiting for an available hotel room. My mother, who was a former girl scout in her youth, cooked breakfast for two days on an open fire in the fireplace and made coffee over a candle. Even though it was the middle of summer and they had no air conditioning, they made the best of things by living in bathing suits and sitting outside in the shade as much as possible. They were bound and determined to stick it out. Finally after three days of misery, they were able to get a hotel room for the remaining five days that the power was off.
The next hurricane to hit them was Frances, which did not have too bad an impact on their area. But when the third hurricane, Jeannie, came and stalled with hours of heavy, heavy rain, their neighborhood took another devastating hit. Much of the area where their neighborhood is located is low and the water table was already high. With the huge amounts of rain that came with Jeannie, many of the homes in their neighborhood flooded. As recent as the beginning of 2005,three houses on my parents' street were still condemned due to the extensive flood damage that they had sustained.
Most people think of hurricanes as only impacting coastal areas. However, in 2004, we saw that even inland areas can be greatly affected by the tremendous power of these storms. My parents showed enormous resilience in the aftermath of these storms. Not bad for a pair of 82 years olds.
The first hurricane to hit them was Charley, which came up through central Florida after entering the state on the southwest coast. It had winds that were estimated to be 100 mph winds when it came through my parents' area. Although my parents' home fared well and damage to the rest of their property was minimal, they were among the few fortunate people in their neighborhood.
Much of central Florida has a very high water table. When the heavy winds struck, many trees toppled easily due to their root systems being so shallow. Nearly every mature tree in parents' neighborhood was downed and about half of the homes had significant roof damage. In addition, the electrical systems were destroyed throughout the area. Since my parents lived in an unincorporated area, they were among the last of those to have power restored.
Consequently, my 82 year old parents camped out in their house for three days while waiting for an available hotel room. My mother, who was a former girl scout in her youth, cooked breakfast for two days on an open fire in the fireplace and made coffee over a candle. Even though it was the middle of summer and they had no air conditioning, they made the best of things by living in bathing suits and sitting outside in the shade as much as possible. They were bound and determined to stick it out. Finally after three days of misery, they were able to get a hotel room for the remaining five days that the power was off.
The next hurricane to hit them was Frances, which did not have too bad an impact on their area. But when the third hurricane, Jeannie, came and stalled with hours of heavy, heavy rain, their neighborhood took another devastating hit. Much of the area where their neighborhood is located is low and the water table was already high. With the huge amounts of rain that came with Jeannie, many of the homes in their neighborhood flooded. As recent as the beginning of 2005,three houses on my parents' street were still condemned due to the extensive flood damage that they had sustained.
Most people think of hurricanes as only impacting coastal areas. However, in 2004, we saw that even inland areas can be greatly affected by the tremendous power of these storms. My parents showed enormous resilience in the aftermath of these storms. Not bad for a pair of 82 years olds.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
A Room with a View
We are spending the weekend at the coast. Yesterday I went to visit a friend who lives here full time. They have a beautiful home on a little spit of land jutting out into the Bay. Everywhere you look from their home, there is an incredible view. Only the laundry room does not have a view. Until recently, theirs was the only home on their street. Now a new house is being constructed next door. My friend suggested that I go next door and look at the house, then come back to visit with her. She said that she was particularly curious about what I thought of the house.
I went in the front door. There were no handles on the doors, but front door opened easily and I proceeded to check out the place. As I made my way through tiny room after tiny room, I wondered why anyone would build such a rat maze of rooms, none of which took advantage of the incredible views afforded by the location. My impression was one of claustrophobia as I explored the house. When I decided to leave, I found that I could not open any of the doors to get back outside. Running from room to room, it seemed as if this very unwelcome place had made me its prisoner. Finally, I found one window which I was able to open and reach an outside deck from it.
Grateful to escape the house, I went back to visit with my friend. Telling her of my panicky experience of being locked in the unwelcome house, I asked if she would have been able to hear me yell for help. She said that she doubted that, but was just getting ready to check on me because I had been gone for so long. Then she said that the very same thing happened to her the previous week and she was force to jump from a window onto the heating and cooling equipment on the ground below.
Just as we were standing in her kitchen talking about our similar miserable experiences, we noticed an eagle diving toward the shallow water in the Bay. He struggled with something in the water and was forced to settle in the water floating like a seagull. After several aborted attempts, he was finally able to fly away carrying a huge fish in his talons. Scenes like this are what my friend sees every day because she has rooms with a view. Everyone needs a room with a view in life, both literally and figuratively.
I went in the front door. There were no handles on the doors, but front door opened easily and I proceeded to check out the place. As I made my way through tiny room after tiny room, I wondered why anyone would build such a rat maze of rooms, none of which took advantage of the incredible views afforded by the location. My impression was one of claustrophobia as I explored the house. When I decided to leave, I found that I could not open any of the doors to get back outside. Running from room to room, it seemed as if this very unwelcome place had made me its prisoner. Finally, I found one window which I was able to open and reach an outside deck from it.
Grateful to escape the house, I went back to visit with my friend. Telling her of my panicky experience of being locked in the unwelcome house, I asked if she would have been able to hear me yell for help. She said that she doubted that, but was just getting ready to check on me because I had been gone for so long. Then she said that the very same thing happened to her the previous week and she was force to jump from a window onto the heating and cooling equipment on the ground below.
Just as we were standing in her kitchen talking about our similar miserable experiences, we noticed an eagle diving toward the shallow water in the Bay. He struggled with something in the water and was forced to settle in the water floating like a seagull. After several aborted attempts, he was finally able to fly away carrying a huge fish in his talons. Scenes like this are what my friend sees every day because she has rooms with a view. Everyone needs a room with a view in life, both literally and figuratively.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Tile Trauma
It has been over a week since I came down with the flu. Yesterday on the afternoon of the eighth day of my flu, I finally felt well enough to go out. I was desperate just to be out in the real world after having been cooped up in my house for the last week while I shivered, sneezed, coughed, sniffled, and sneezed some more. Giddy with my freedom from constantly sneezing, I decided to go to the tile store to look at replacement tile for our guest bathroom which sorely needs remodelling.
For someone who really knows what she likes in cars, clothing, furniture, or food, choosing a wallpaper or tile is nearly an impossible task for me. The choices are overwhelming and after a while, they all start to look alike. The added pressure of choosing tile is the extreme permanence of the material. As anyone who has ever tried it knows, removing old tile is a difficult and dusty job. Therefore, the selection of the right tile is something that must be done with great care since we are going to have to live with it for a long time.
My husband has refused to accompany me on these trips to the stores to look at potential choices for our remodelling projects. Instead, he tells me that he trusts my judgement and taste. Translation: "you do the leg work." The problem is that I don't know what my taste is in tile. I do know what is in style at the moment. Keeping that in mind, I attempt to select a few possibilities. However, when when I bring home the samples, they are invariably "not right." How can something so simple end up being so difficult?
Sometimes, I just wish that a fairy godmother of decorating would come in and waive her magic wand on my house to make it right.
For someone who really knows what she likes in cars, clothing, furniture, or food, choosing a wallpaper or tile is nearly an impossible task for me. The choices are overwhelming and after a while, they all start to look alike. The added pressure of choosing tile is the extreme permanence of the material. As anyone who has ever tried it knows, removing old tile is a difficult and dusty job. Therefore, the selection of the right tile is something that must be done with great care since we are going to have to live with it for a long time.
My husband has refused to accompany me on these trips to the stores to look at potential choices for our remodelling projects. Instead, he tells me that he trusts my judgement and taste. Translation: "you do the leg work." The problem is that I don't know what my taste is in tile. I do know what is in style at the moment. Keeping that in mind, I attempt to select a few possibilities. However, when when I bring home the samples, they are invariably "not right." How can something so simple end up being so difficult?
Sometimes, I just wish that a fairy godmother of decorating would come in and waive her magic wand on my house to make it right.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
The Flu Sucks
It is now January 11 and I have been sick with the flu for a whole week. The flu shots were not available, so I missed mine this year. Now I am paying for that omission for the second time this flu season. Other than taking my dogs out in the yard, I have been housebound the entire week with all the classic symptoms of the flu.
It must be getting better because now I have contracted cabin fever. At least that is a much healthier disease to have.
It must be getting better because now I have contracted cabin fever. At least that is a much healthier disease to have.
Tuesday, January 04, 2005
The Ugliness of Divorce
A very good friend of mine is in the process of getting a divorce. What started last April when her husband blindsided her is still in process and is getting nastier by the day. It tears me up to see my friend so sad and demoralized by what is happening to her and her children in this process.
How can two people who once really loved each other enough to take vows "until death due us part" end up with so little civility in the divorce process? My friend and her husband have three young children who have become the battleground of this divorce. People get divorced every day. However, most people make the emotional welfare of their children their first priority. Not so in this case. It is so sad.
How can two people who once really loved each other enough to take vows "until death due us part" end up with so little civility in the divorce process? My friend and her husband have three young children who have become the battleground of this divorce. People get divorced every day. However, most people make the emotional welfare of their children their first priority. Not so in this case. It is so sad.
Monday, January 03, 2005
A Wise Man
I used to be a competitive runner and was fairly successful at it before becoming injured. Even though I did not start running until my late 30's, I had always wanted to give it a try. Finally I got up the courage to shuffle around on my own until I was good enough to run with other runners. Eventually, I started entering races and had some success. When I was 41, I had a year of running and racing that one can only dream of.
Our local track club conducts a Grand Prix each year consisting of ten events for which points are awarded based upon overall and age group finishes. The Masters age groups (age 40 and above) have always been among the most competitive for both men and women here in our town. When I was in the 40-44 age group, we had several good runners, but there was only one that I had never beaten. One year, I made it my mission to try to win the Grand Prix for my age group. My strategy was to finish 2nd to my main rival in the shorter races (5 and 10 Kilometers), but win all the longer distances since she had never even entered a race beyond 10K. I was not even sure she could run the longer distances. I told my plan to a running friend, a local judge who had been a great mentor to many runners including myself. He said that he had heard that my rival was planning on running all the races that year and opined that there was no way I could beat her. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I show you!" With that he just grinned.
I trained really hard that year and ended up winning all the Grand Prix races and the Championship for my age group. By the end of that year, my rival was no longer entering races. When the awards were handed out, I turned to my friend and said, "I thought you said that there was no way I could beat her. I showed you, didn't I?" He smiled and said, "Why do you think I said that to you?"
My friend, the judge, was a very wise man.
Our local track club conducts a Grand Prix each year consisting of ten events for which points are awarded based upon overall and age group finishes. The Masters age groups (age 40 and above) have always been among the most competitive for both men and women here in our town. When I was in the 40-44 age group, we had several good runners, but there was only one that I had never beaten. One year, I made it my mission to try to win the Grand Prix for my age group. My strategy was to finish 2nd to my main rival in the shorter races (5 and 10 Kilometers), but win all the longer distances since she had never even entered a race beyond 10K. I was not even sure she could run the longer distances. I told my plan to a running friend, a local judge who had been a great mentor to many runners including myself. He said that he had heard that my rival was planning on running all the races that year and opined that there was no way I could beat her. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I show you!" With that he just grinned.
I trained really hard that year and ended up winning all the Grand Prix races and the Championship for my age group. By the end of that year, my rival was no longer entering races. When the awards were handed out, I turned to my friend and said, "I thought you said that there was no way I could beat her. I showed you, didn't I?" He smiled and said, "Why do you think I said that to you?"
My friend, the judge, was a very wise man.
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