My part of her story
What was I thinking? Now that I look back, I can understand the lives of my children and their attitudes toward me a lot more.
So where was the beginning? When the children were little, we had a lot of fun. There was always something fun to do. Each one of them had a very different personality that made them unique.
Kathy was very outgoing until 2nd grade, then she did a real flip. She became a very shy person and went into her "littles" phase. Everything she did was little. To a degree she has extricated herself from her body so that what she saw wasn't what you and I would see. If she were drawing a picture of me sitting in this chair; I would be two circles, one inside the other inside a square. The smaller of the two circles would have lines on it denoting hair and you might see a triangle on one side of the circle that would be my nose. The perspective would be as one would see me while sitting on the ceiling of the room.
Her teacher complained because all 25 math problems would be done on the upper left quarter of a page of paper, all done in miniature.
Her little brothers didn't help. They would run into her room anytime they wanted to so a hook was finally put on her door.
I got involved with 4-H at this time to be a part of her world. I taught the knitting and crocheting group. There were about 8 girls in the class. We started out with crocheting and did that for the first semester. The second semester we learned to knit. Kathy has a problem shifting from one thing to another and when it came to knitting, she decided that she had learned to use one needle and wasn't about to learn how to use two. So for the girls that didn't want to learn knitting, I had some more advanced crocheting projects for them. Kathy made a crocheted blanket/throw in rainbow colors.
The move to Wisconsin was hardest on her but luck was with her. Her cousin Jeff had a group of friends, both male and female that hung around together and they welcomed her into their group. To make this even smoother for her, after we got to know the kids in the group I gave an all-night New Years Eve party at our cottage at the lake. The party was a great success, we ate, danced, told stories in front of the fire. If someone was getting sleepy, we made them run around the outside of the house once in the snow.
The summer after that move, we moved again. I bought a house in town so that I wouldn't have to do so much running. The kids could walk to school. They could walk to the library or uptown. They had a freedom that I thought was necessary.
Kathy got sick during this time. I took her to the doctor, as any parent would, and the doctor told us that she needed a shot to correct this. Before the change (2nd grade) she was the big kid and took all the shots that were required for her. I would take them to the clinic on vaccination day and they would all get their boosters, but after 2nd grade, she no longer wanted anything to do with this. Even going to the dentist was a choir. Our dentist said that he wouldn't work on her unless I could calm her down. I would talk to her about her choices, and then I would stay in the room while he fixed a tooth.
Back at the doctor's office in her teen years, it took two nurses and a doctor to hold her down to get the shot. While I was making arrangements to get her medicine, she left. I couldn't find her in the snow for two days and she was running a fever.
Much later when we talked about this, she told me that it is very primitive to give people shots to get them well. I didn't know that then but I do agree with her now on this point. Were they smarter than me even then?
Three months before graduation, Kathy didn't want to get out of bed in the morning. I asked if she was sick and she told me that she wasn't going to school. We talked about the fact that I had to go to work and it was her job to go to school. She told me that she wasn't going to graduated because she was flunking all of her classes. We talked and I agreed that if she would go to school, after work I would see if we could find a tutor to bring her up to speed so that she could graduate, but that she had to go to school. She left for school that morning and wasn't happy about it but she didn't come home that night.
At first I called her friends to ask if they had seen her. I spent a hard night driving around looking for her. Then I made a call that I didn't want to make. I called California to talk to her father. He basically told me that again anything that happens is my fault. Not needing that, I continued to call people. Where could she have gone? Finally I was told that she was living with one of her friend's at their house. At least I knew that she was safe, so left her alone. I supposed that was another of my mistakes as a mother. I should have marched over there and demanded this person who was larger than I was to come home and behave like a real person, but I didn't have anyone to back me up. The boys were smaller than I was.
I didn't get invited to her graduation and yes, she did graduate. When I should have been having family over for her graduation, I was invited to her cousin's party.
When I think back, maybe we always had a push/pull relationship. I remember once when the boys were doing a lot of stuff, she walked out and I got a call from the police department. I went down to pick her up, they said she was just out walking after curfew. We sat in the police department and talked about who was the mother and who should discipline the boys.
After graduation she went to live with an aunt of mine. The aunt helped her get a job at the bakery of a grocery store.
Later she wanted to go see her father. From the time she was born, she would dance rings around her father. She loved him so much. I think the feeling was mutual because before the divorce he told me that if I would find homes for the boys, he thought we could have a wonderful family with just the three of us.
Before she went out to see him she was very nervous. She and I did some role playing and then she left. I heard from her a couple of time while she was out there. Mostly how she was always getting blamed for this or that and how he wouldn't help her get a job etc. Finally I sent her some money and told her that it was her umbrella when she was ready to come home. A friend of her Dad's helped her get a ticket and she had found a kitten that she wanted to bring back so he helped her get everything ready to leave. According to Kathy, her Stepmother was nicer to her than her Dad was. A few years later she divorced her Dad.
She came home and I helped her find an apartment in Appleton. Then she got a job there and seemed the happiest that I had seen her in a long time. She met a guy that she was interested in and told me that she wanted to get married.
Again she wasn't happy with all of this because between his mother and myself, we wanted a church wedding. She insisted that it only be for the family. We agreed. His mother was so upset about all of this, none of her friends and neighbors was allowed at the wedding. So I hosted a party after church at a local restaurant. When she walked in she was angry. The party had about 20 guests but that was 20 more than Kathy wanted. I felt that the party was for everyone else and maybe Kathy would get over it.
Kathy doesn't get over things well. Maybe she has a good reason. Her husband was picked up the year after her wedding for murder and Kathy went into hiding. Of course when they couldn't find her, they came after me. I was the only one who knew where she was. Life was hard then. The police were here every day but at least she didn't have to go through this.
After 5 years she was able to pull herself out from behind the looking glass. She told me that she felt like she was Alice and knew that everyone was out there but couldn't contact anyone. She got her divorce and tried to move ahead with her life. She moved to Green Bay and got a job in a Cheese factory. One of the things that she enjoys the most is live performances, plays and such. So she would dress up and go to plays where she would meet new people. (She was a very pretty girl) The thing that bothered her the most was that whenever she would be talking to a nice man and he would ask what she does, she could see the clouds cover his eyes and he would walk away.
Two years ago I was tending my dying sister and we ended up in Depere. I was staying with Kathy and driving over to be with my sister 12 hours a day. I don't have it straight in my head yet because Kathy would come over after work sometimes and sit with us, but I think the night that I didn't expect my sister to make it through the night, I should have found a way to tell Kathy and have her to do an all nighter with us but I didn't. Vern had brought my other sister up after sending her a ticket to fly back to Wisconsin. I think my daughter felt that I left her out and looking back I guess I did, but at the time I'm not sure I was really working everything out logically, it was like I was on automatic. After Donna died at 4:00 in the morning, I still didn't tell her. Instead Betty and I drove back to Milwaukee and went to bed. I didn't call her the next day because she would have been at work. Well, I guess I made a lot of mistakes that week because at the funeral, Kathy wouldn't talk to me. The fact is that it is two and a half years later and she still isn't talking to me.
Last spring I went by her house after sending her some pearls that I bought for her in Hawaii, only to find that she had moved in the winter. The packages didn't come back so I guess her forwarding was still working. Perhaps she has divorced me now too?
I really love that lady and sure wish that she were in my life but I am also glad that she is able to stand on her own and be independent, her own person. As a mother, I sure made a lot of mistakes but even as I write this, I'm not sure how I would have changed any of it. Perhaps someday Kathy and I can be friends again?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Things in our lives
Gertie came to work today. I sometimes can't believe her energy. She does such a good job that when she is done, the whole place just shines.
That isn't what today was all about. Today was about memories. One must be getting old if life is a series of memories. Today was that kind of a day.
Each piece of furniture evoked a different time or person. Putting oil on an old water closet reminded me of when this same piece of furniture was being used by my great Uncle Louie. It sat in his room. I don't know where it came from before that but my Mother gave it to me when I moved back to Wisconsin. It had drawer fronts that were cracked and the wood hadn't been taken care of like it should. (I have a great fondness of real wood, with its warmth and depth.) So the first thing that I did was to take a broken drawer to a hardware store to see what would be the best way to repair this. While I was there, it was pointed out to me how well made these drawers were along with the quality of the oak that they were made from. It was suggested to use good wood glue, then refinish the piece. I did that. Blaine helped me pick out new hardware and I put a clear finish on it. That was thirty years ago and to this day it looks lovely.
Then I was cleaning the piano, I remembered the old piano that I left in California. This one was purchased with my first tax refund in Wisconsin. I would come home after work, fix supper and playing my songs to relax. This was after I had refitted the room with track lighting. The house that I bought had a center light in the living room. So I took it apart and wired up a track with three flood lights. One went to a picture that Kathy and I had purchased in California. Another shown on a plant in the corner and the third one illuminated the piano.
How about the library table that lives in the corner of our living room? On the shelf under the table are picture albums that track the life in this household. On the top is a statue that the girls gave me when I retired from the hot-line after 10 years there. The table itself belonged to my grandmother at one time. Then it lived with my sister Donna and her family for a while. Donna really didn't like wood things. Betty and I used to call her the "Glass and Brass" sister. She liked shiny new things. So when her boys wanted to make models of cars and boats, she told them that they could use this table. When I got the table, the knife blade marks were all over the top. I stripped it and sanded the top a great deal. It still carries the marks of model making but has a nice finish on it. I even crocheted a square of material that covers most of it.
Then I moved the round table that I have recently put a skirt on. This table also is wood and belonged to my grandparents. When my mother had it in Florida, she wanted a skirt around it. She didn't have enough material so I made a skirt for it out of some curtains. She had it in her living room with a lamp on it. So many memories.
How about the plant stand that is in the front hallway? My Dad made that a long time ago. While I was cleaning it, I remembered the typing table that he also made. I have it in the basement. As long as I can remember, the typing table was painted black and white. I have since repainted it a blue and I used it with my typewriter. (I miss typewriters.)
Each thing that I touched reminded me of someone or something. How about the "Nesting duck" that I purchased from King when my Uncle Art was alive and living there?
Then there is the dimestore mirror that I bought to put in the boys room when they were little. I purchased 4 feet of rope that is an inch thick. I put the mirror on some waxed paper and using Elmers glue, I glued the rope around the mirror and let it sit. After a few days I pealed the waxed paper off and the mirror has been around for about 40 years still encased in rope.
All the things in our lives are there because we chose them or have chosen to keep them around. They are all a part of us, even down to the scratches on them. Each has a story to tell; a treasure from here or there, from this person or that.
How hard it must be to lose everything to a tornado like the people who live in southern Wisconsin this past week. Lost are the treasures of their lives. How does one recover from such devastation? Perhaps by realizing that all the memories are still there, only the things are gone.
That isn't what today was all about. Today was about memories. One must be getting old if life is a series of memories. Today was that kind of a day.
Each piece of furniture evoked a different time or person. Putting oil on an old water closet reminded me of when this same piece of furniture was being used by my great Uncle Louie. It sat in his room. I don't know where it came from before that but my Mother gave it to me when I moved back to Wisconsin. It had drawer fronts that were cracked and the wood hadn't been taken care of like it should. (I have a great fondness of real wood, with its warmth and depth.) So the first thing that I did was to take a broken drawer to a hardware store to see what would be the best way to repair this. While I was there, it was pointed out to me how well made these drawers were along with the quality of the oak that they were made from. It was suggested to use good wood glue, then refinish the piece. I did that. Blaine helped me pick out new hardware and I put a clear finish on it. That was thirty years ago and to this day it looks lovely.
Then I was cleaning the piano, I remembered the old piano that I left in California. This one was purchased with my first tax refund in Wisconsin. I would come home after work, fix supper and playing my songs to relax. This was after I had refitted the room with track lighting. The house that I bought had a center light in the living room. So I took it apart and wired up a track with three flood lights. One went to a picture that Kathy and I had purchased in California. Another shown on a plant in the corner and the third one illuminated the piano.
How about the library table that lives in the corner of our living room? On the shelf under the table are picture albums that track the life in this household. On the top is a statue that the girls gave me when I retired from the hot-line after 10 years there. The table itself belonged to my grandmother at one time. Then it lived with my sister Donna and her family for a while. Donna really didn't like wood things. Betty and I used to call her the "Glass and Brass" sister. She liked shiny new things. So when her boys wanted to make models of cars and boats, she told them that they could use this table. When I got the table, the knife blade marks were all over the top. I stripped it and sanded the top a great deal. It still carries the marks of model making but has a nice finish on it. I even crocheted a square of material that covers most of it.
Then I moved the round table that I have recently put a skirt on. This table also is wood and belonged to my grandparents. When my mother had it in Florida, she wanted a skirt around it. She didn't have enough material so I made a skirt for it out of some curtains. She had it in her living room with a lamp on it. So many memories.
How about the plant stand that is in the front hallway? My Dad made that a long time ago. While I was cleaning it, I remembered the typing table that he also made. I have it in the basement. As long as I can remember, the typing table was painted black and white. I have since repainted it a blue and I used it with my typewriter. (I miss typewriters.)
Each thing that I touched reminded me of someone or something. How about the "Nesting duck" that I purchased from King when my Uncle Art was alive and living there?
Then there is the dimestore mirror that I bought to put in the boys room when they were little. I purchased 4 feet of rope that is an inch thick. I put the mirror on some waxed paper and using Elmers glue, I glued the rope around the mirror and let it sit. After a few days I pealed the waxed paper off and the mirror has been around for about 40 years still encased in rope.
All the things in our lives are there because we chose them or have chosen to keep them around. They are all a part of us, even down to the scratches on them. Each has a story to tell; a treasure from here or there, from this person or that.
How hard it must be to lose everything to a tornado like the people who live in southern Wisconsin this past week. Lost are the treasures of their lives. How does one recover from such devastation? Perhaps by realizing that all the memories are still there, only the things are gone.
Friday, November 30, 2007
2007
Knowing how much everyone loves Christmas letters, I thought it was time to write one. My sisters and I have talked about this often but we never did it.
Let's start out at the beginning of 2007. What a year. It got off to a rocky start with Sister Betty having a stroke the last few days of 2006 and spending most of the winter/spring trying to recover some of her abilities.
In January, Vern was involved with a head-on collision that totaled his car. It seems that a drunk driver wanted the space where Vern was driving. Due to some Spiritual intervention, Vern came out of that without a scratch and they tell us that Miracles don't happen these days.
Spring was a wonderful time of the year. Vern and I went on a cruise around the Hawaiian Island. Having never been there, neither of us knew what to expect. We got what we expected.
A few months after our trip, I was invited to promote my book at a Wellness Fair in Neenah. While up there I decided to pop in on my daughter and say "Hi". I found out that she had moved in the winter to some new location. I figure she will let me know where she is when she wants me to know.
We decided to have a Couples Ice Cream Social in our back yard in the summer. It turned out wonderful. 5 couples were able to make it. It was nice to relax with friends in our back yard.
In August Vern and I went for a bike ride. I wanted to show him a new place that I had found. He was having trouble keeping up and I teased him because I am usually the one in this relationship that is trying to "keep up". I mentioned that he should talk to his doctor about this when he has his next appointment or check-up.
Halfway through August, my car backed up and knocked me over. I broke my left wrist and cracked my pelvis. Vern took a week off to help me get around and then went back to work. As of the writing of this letter, I am still recovering but getting better every day.
In September my son was released from his six years in prison. This changed a lot of things as I had all of his stuff stored in our basement.
A month after my accident, Vern had his check-up. His doctor felt that he might have had a minor heart attack a few months before and wanted to run more tests. They found arteries blocked on his heart. Later tests showed that about a sixth of his heart on the outside is dead. He is feeling much better with his new medication but now has to make a decision as to whether or not to have a pacemaker put in.
I gave myself a 70th birthday party in November as the "carrot" to getting well. It was the best party that I have ever had. 15 of my good friends came and we played Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader. Everyone went home with a prize and full of Chocolate because the theme was a Chocolate Party.
All in all it has been an interesting year. Maybe 2008 could be just a bit more boring?
Hope you have a great New Year as it is a One year. 2+0+0+8=10 and 1+0= One. That means it is the beginning of all sorts of new things. Enjoy
Let's start out at the beginning of 2007. What a year. It got off to a rocky start with Sister Betty having a stroke the last few days of 2006 and spending most of the winter/spring trying to recover some of her abilities.
In January, Vern was involved with a head-on collision that totaled his car. It seems that a drunk driver wanted the space where Vern was driving. Due to some Spiritual intervention, Vern came out of that without a scratch and they tell us that Miracles don't happen these days.
Spring was a wonderful time of the year. Vern and I went on a cruise around the Hawaiian Island. Having never been there, neither of us knew what to expect. We got what we expected.
A few months after our trip, I was invited to promote my book at a Wellness Fair in Neenah. While up there I decided to pop in on my daughter and say "Hi". I found out that she had moved in the winter to some new location. I figure she will let me know where she is when she wants me to know.
We decided to have a Couples Ice Cream Social in our back yard in the summer. It turned out wonderful. 5 couples were able to make it. It was nice to relax with friends in our back yard.
In August Vern and I went for a bike ride. I wanted to show him a new place that I had found. He was having trouble keeping up and I teased him because I am usually the one in this relationship that is trying to "keep up". I mentioned that he should talk to his doctor about this when he has his next appointment or check-up.
Halfway through August, my car backed up and knocked me over. I broke my left wrist and cracked my pelvis. Vern took a week off to help me get around and then went back to work. As of the writing of this letter, I am still recovering but getting better every day.
In September my son was released from his six years in prison. This changed a lot of things as I had all of his stuff stored in our basement.
A month after my accident, Vern had his check-up. His doctor felt that he might have had a minor heart attack a few months before and wanted to run more tests. They found arteries blocked on his heart. Later tests showed that about a sixth of his heart on the outside is dead. He is feeling much better with his new medication but now has to make a decision as to whether or not to have a pacemaker put in.
I gave myself a 70th birthday party in November as the "carrot" to getting well. It was the best party that I have ever had. 15 of my good friends came and we played Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader. Everyone went home with a prize and full of Chocolate because the theme was a Chocolate Party.
All in all it has been an interesting year. Maybe 2008 could be just a bit more boring?
Hope you have a great New Year as it is a One year. 2+0+0+8=10 and 1+0= One. That means it is the beginning of all sorts of new things. Enjoy
Monday, November 19, 2007
Balance
When is it time to leave the table? What happens when we find ourselves making more wrong decisions than right ones?
It is a very good thing when someone can point this out to us in a friendly manner but for the most part, if all our suggestions are repelled with the idea that we are stupid to think like that, one does start to doubt one's ability to reason.
Being very unconventional in my approach to things, it has not bothered me to have people reject my suggestions. Lately there is a feeling that perhaps others are right, that most of my suggestions or ideas are not valid. Some are even hypocritical. How can I expect others around me to want to do something when I can't even convince my own household that it is a good idea? So that idea is put into a package, tied with cording and dumped down the well. No one will really notice that it is gone.
As I find myself walking down hill a lot, I remember the times that were, and know that I will probably never be there again. I used to walk upright and strong. Now I find myself weak and unable to even hold myself up. As I have questioned in the past, when did this happen? Was it when I said good-by to my parents? I don't think so. I was still very strong then. Was it when I was helping my children? I don't know about this, because it put a lot of cracks in my armor. Was it when my sister died and I lost my family? This was the point where I knew that I couldn't paste things together anymore. I wasn't able to help those around me. This was the point where I gave up a lot of the packages that I thought I could carry and maybe even do some good. This was a major turning point in my life. I have come many times to corners and have taken 90 degree turns to start or handle something that I had never done before but this turning point was much more than a 90 degree turn. It was a bend that almost broke me. Looking back, maybe it was a green stick break? Do those ever heal to the point of being strong again?
I just finished reading a 600 page book that was very well written and has been included in Oprah's book club. It was about life in the 1970s in India. The author tries to make you think it is a fiction book but I do not believe that. I think this author took things that he witnessed in his home country and wrote a fiction around these things. There is a lot of gore and mutilation in the book but running through it is a young main character who is trying to make sense of all of this. He is young and strong. He is intelligent and helpful. The name of the book is A FINE BALANCE. Throughout the book I kept waiting for this balance or even something fine but they didn't arrived. On the last page of this story the young main character can't find a balance either and jumps in front of a train.
Is there a fine balance that one can find in life or is it just a series of situations, puzzles if you will, that need to be pieced together? When one is cleaned up, be ready for the next one? At what point do we get to sit in a balance? Are these just moments in time? A phone call that is pleasant or a 4 hour party that is wonderful, are they the moments in time that we can use for balance?
What happens when the balance doesn't come? When we are thinking things that we know isn't right? Hey, we might not know that at the time but as we ponder them, we know. A lot of times they are pointed out when we express them to others. Mind you, mostly in a very unpleasant way. I think of how my Dad must have felt when my Mother started to lose it. Is that what is happening to me? Am I loosing it? Would it not be better to leave the table?
Perhaps that is why people get angry with me? It must anger people around us when we think like this. Would it not be better to jump in front of a train than to have everyone see the stupid things that you wish to do, thinking that they would be helpful?
This was not written to invoke pity but rather to sort my feelings and see what I can do to make things go better. By pulling back and not doing things, I wouldn't make mistakes. I could do things and then let them cool for a while to see if that would really be a good idea? I could talk to people about what I am thinking of doing, with the hope that they won't laugh, ridicule or holler at me. Perhaps I am blowing all of this out of proportion and taking on "their" problems, thinking that I am supposed to solve them, when I can barely solve my own?
A fine balance would be a wonderful thing. Perhaps the author was using the word "fine" to mean thin or narrow? I will have to look at it from both sides. Life is a thin balance? Just when you think you have something orderly, it falls out of balance. Perhaps life was meant to be that way to keep us interested instead of bored?
May our lives be a little boring from time to time.
It is a very good thing when someone can point this out to us in a friendly manner but for the most part, if all our suggestions are repelled with the idea that we are stupid to think like that, one does start to doubt one's ability to reason.
Being very unconventional in my approach to things, it has not bothered me to have people reject my suggestions. Lately there is a feeling that perhaps others are right, that most of my suggestions or ideas are not valid. Some are even hypocritical. How can I expect others around me to want to do something when I can't even convince my own household that it is a good idea? So that idea is put into a package, tied with cording and dumped down the well. No one will really notice that it is gone.
As I find myself walking down hill a lot, I remember the times that were, and know that I will probably never be there again. I used to walk upright and strong. Now I find myself weak and unable to even hold myself up. As I have questioned in the past, when did this happen? Was it when I said good-by to my parents? I don't think so. I was still very strong then. Was it when I was helping my children? I don't know about this, because it put a lot of cracks in my armor. Was it when my sister died and I lost my family? This was the point where I knew that I couldn't paste things together anymore. I wasn't able to help those around me. This was the point where I gave up a lot of the packages that I thought I could carry and maybe even do some good. This was a major turning point in my life. I have come many times to corners and have taken 90 degree turns to start or handle something that I had never done before but this turning point was much more than a 90 degree turn. It was a bend that almost broke me. Looking back, maybe it was a green stick break? Do those ever heal to the point of being strong again?
I just finished reading a 600 page book that was very well written and has been included in Oprah's book club. It was about life in the 1970s in India. The author tries to make you think it is a fiction book but I do not believe that. I think this author took things that he witnessed in his home country and wrote a fiction around these things. There is a lot of gore and mutilation in the book but running through it is a young main character who is trying to make sense of all of this. He is young and strong. He is intelligent and helpful. The name of the book is A FINE BALANCE. Throughout the book I kept waiting for this balance or even something fine but they didn't arrived. On the last page of this story the young main character can't find a balance either and jumps in front of a train.
Is there a fine balance that one can find in life or is it just a series of situations, puzzles if you will, that need to be pieced together? When one is cleaned up, be ready for the next one? At what point do we get to sit in a balance? Are these just moments in time? A phone call that is pleasant or a 4 hour party that is wonderful, are they the moments in time that we can use for balance?
What happens when the balance doesn't come? When we are thinking things that we know isn't right? Hey, we might not know that at the time but as we ponder them, we know. A lot of times they are pointed out when we express them to others. Mind you, mostly in a very unpleasant way. I think of how my Dad must have felt when my Mother started to lose it. Is that what is happening to me? Am I loosing it? Would it not be better to leave the table?
Perhaps that is why people get angry with me? It must anger people around us when we think like this. Would it not be better to jump in front of a train than to have everyone see the stupid things that you wish to do, thinking that they would be helpful?
This was not written to invoke pity but rather to sort my feelings and see what I can do to make things go better. By pulling back and not doing things, I wouldn't make mistakes. I could do things and then let them cool for a while to see if that would really be a good idea? I could talk to people about what I am thinking of doing, with the hope that they won't laugh, ridicule or holler at me. Perhaps I am blowing all of this out of proportion and taking on "their" problems, thinking that I am supposed to solve them, when I can barely solve my own?
A fine balance would be a wonderful thing. Perhaps the author was using the word "fine" to mean thin or narrow? I will have to look at it from both sides. Life is a thin balance? Just when you think you have something orderly, it falls out of balance. Perhaps life was meant to be that way to keep us interested instead of bored?
May our lives be a little boring from time to time.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Bell Curve
I have found myself on the other side of the hill. It is a nice place to be and it is interesting what I have found that is there.
For those of you who do not know what a Bell Curve is, it was explained to me by a social worker that I worked with many years ago on the Crisis Hot-line. At the time I had custody of my mother and her actions and reactions were very strange. I mentioned this to the social worker and she asked me if I knew about the Bell Curve?
Well, I had never heard of it so she told me about it. She said that the way our lives travel is in an arc that has the look of a silhouette of a bell. It starts out on the bottom on one side at birth and as one becomes active and more able, it progresses up the side of the bell until it reaches the very top. This top could happen at any time in your life when you have felt the very best and most capable ever. How wide this bell is depends on your abilities. At some point you start stepping slowly down the other side of the bell until the very bottom is Death.
We talked about some of Mother's actions and the social worker asked if I knew anyone who is alive who knew her when she was little, like an older brother or sister. I didn't. She explained that both sides of the bell are similar in actions. Perhaps when Mother was little she wouldn't stay in bed at night either? Or some of her childhood fears could be peeking out again…she didn't like when it started to get dark at night.
Well, that’s the history so now I get to talk about the reality. For the past two years I have wanted to have parties. Before this time, life was OK but now I wanted to have people over to do things. We started slowly. At first I would haul one of my neighbors over for something cool to drink. Vern laughed because if someone we knew walked by, I would kidnap them. (In our neighborhood there is always someone just out walking or walking a dog)
Next, I organized a neighborhood ice cream social on the patio. Vern thought the whole thing was so unnecessary. I could understand this because he is working full time and seeing at least 20 people a day to talk to, while I paint, garden, or read by myself.
After the party was over, Vern thought it was great.
So the next year I organized a Couples Ice Cream Social at our house. We invited just couples that we really liked. It turned out great. This time I didn't get as much static as I had the year before.
Before we continue this, I have to tell you that as a teenager, my family was very outgoing and we had company every weekend. We lived on the edge of an 8 mile lake and we were very involved with many organizations in school and church. Have I reached that portion of my bell curve?
This year I turned 70 years old so I gave myself a girl's party. I invited 20 ladies that I really enjoy being around along with a couple of relatives and some neighbors. I made it into a children's party and called it my Chocolate Party. We had lots of chocolate cakes and cookies that my friends brought along with fudge and I had chocolate candy sitting all over the place. To balance some of this out, we had a fruit tray and a veggie tray with dips. We had nuts and pickles and cranberry punch. There was coffee and your choice of 10 teas.
It was perfect because my friend, Linda consented to host the game that I had, called ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A 5TH GRADER. At first some of my friends were a little nervous about this because they didn't want to have anyone laugh at them. As the party went along, they got into it and decided that you don't have to know "Which is the other river in the United States besides the Mississippi that is more than 2000 miles long".
Everyone was having such a great time. My friends come from all the different areas of my life, they wanted to know how the other person had met me. They formed a circle and they went around the room telling where and how they met me. After each person said something, I got to say a little about them that they hadn't shared with the group. They are all very talented people. They did get a little carried away and I had to tell them that I don't do miracles but then they are my friends.
When it was time to open my presents, I saw the bell curve in its fullest. I was handed a package and I would try to open it. I have a left hand that works but doesn't always do what I want it to. The friends sitting on either side of me, asked if they could help but 10 year old Phyllis said, "No, I can do it."
I have a feeling that is just how I was when I was little. I can dress myself! I can tie my shoes! I can do whatever I need to do! I don't need help, I can do it! I guess being the oldest of three children under the age of four, I decided then and there that I wasn't a baby. Even now I figure out how to do something rather than wait until Vern gets home from work to help.
One friend did hand me a pair of scissors to cut ribbon and paper but most of the time I made my fingers work at it. I can do it!
Where this is going to take me, I don't know, but I have seen pictures of myself when I was very little and I was a chunky little person. Didn't lose my "baby fat" until I got into kindergarten. I do know that I need to be around people so guess this isn't the last of the parties.
My friends told me that they want to come back and do an all-day brunch on 11/11/2011. I told them that I think that would be just great. So I have a big party taking place in four years. I wonder if I will have collected more interesting friends by then? Why not?
For those of you who do not know what a Bell Curve is, it was explained to me by a social worker that I worked with many years ago on the Crisis Hot-line. At the time I had custody of my mother and her actions and reactions were very strange. I mentioned this to the social worker and she asked me if I knew about the Bell Curve?
Well, I had never heard of it so she told me about it. She said that the way our lives travel is in an arc that has the look of a silhouette of a bell. It starts out on the bottom on one side at birth and as one becomes active and more able, it progresses up the side of the bell until it reaches the very top. This top could happen at any time in your life when you have felt the very best and most capable ever. How wide this bell is depends on your abilities. At some point you start stepping slowly down the other side of the bell until the very bottom is Death.
We talked about some of Mother's actions and the social worker asked if I knew anyone who is alive who knew her when she was little, like an older brother or sister. I didn't. She explained that both sides of the bell are similar in actions. Perhaps when Mother was little she wouldn't stay in bed at night either? Or some of her childhood fears could be peeking out again…she didn't like when it started to get dark at night.
Well, that’s the history so now I get to talk about the reality. For the past two years I have wanted to have parties. Before this time, life was OK but now I wanted to have people over to do things. We started slowly. At first I would haul one of my neighbors over for something cool to drink. Vern laughed because if someone we knew walked by, I would kidnap them. (In our neighborhood there is always someone just out walking or walking a dog)
Next, I organized a neighborhood ice cream social on the patio. Vern thought the whole thing was so unnecessary. I could understand this because he is working full time and seeing at least 20 people a day to talk to, while I paint, garden, or read by myself.
After the party was over, Vern thought it was great.
So the next year I organized a Couples Ice Cream Social at our house. We invited just couples that we really liked. It turned out great. This time I didn't get as much static as I had the year before.
Before we continue this, I have to tell you that as a teenager, my family was very outgoing and we had company every weekend. We lived on the edge of an 8 mile lake and we were very involved with many organizations in school and church. Have I reached that portion of my bell curve?
This year I turned 70 years old so I gave myself a girl's party. I invited 20 ladies that I really enjoy being around along with a couple of relatives and some neighbors. I made it into a children's party and called it my Chocolate Party. We had lots of chocolate cakes and cookies that my friends brought along with fudge and I had chocolate candy sitting all over the place. To balance some of this out, we had a fruit tray and a veggie tray with dips. We had nuts and pickles and cranberry punch. There was coffee and your choice of 10 teas.
It was perfect because my friend, Linda consented to host the game that I had, called ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A 5TH GRADER. At first some of my friends were a little nervous about this because they didn't want to have anyone laugh at them. As the party went along, they got into it and decided that you don't have to know "Which is the other river in the United States besides the Mississippi that is more than 2000 miles long".
Everyone was having such a great time. My friends come from all the different areas of my life, they wanted to know how the other person had met me. They formed a circle and they went around the room telling where and how they met me. After each person said something, I got to say a little about them that they hadn't shared with the group. They are all very talented people. They did get a little carried away and I had to tell them that I don't do miracles but then they are my friends.
When it was time to open my presents, I saw the bell curve in its fullest. I was handed a package and I would try to open it. I have a left hand that works but doesn't always do what I want it to. The friends sitting on either side of me, asked if they could help but 10 year old Phyllis said, "No, I can do it."
I have a feeling that is just how I was when I was little. I can dress myself! I can tie my shoes! I can do whatever I need to do! I don't need help, I can do it! I guess being the oldest of three children under the age of four, I decided then and there that I wasn't a baby. Even now I figure out how to do something rather than wait until Vern gets home from work to help.
One friend did hand me a pair of scissors to cut ribbon and paper but most of the time I made my fingers work at it. I can do it!
Where this is going to take me, I don't know, but I have seen pictures of myself when I was very little and I was a chunky little person. Didn't lose my "baby fat" until I got into kindergarten. I do know that I need to be around people so guess this isn't the last of the parties.
My friends told me that they want to come back and do an all-day brunch on 11/11/2011. I told them that I think that would be just great. So I have a big party taking place in four years. I wonder if I will have collected more interesting friends by then? Why not?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Wings of Wax
What happened to the man who created wings of wax to fly like a bird? He got greedy and wanted to go higher and higher. He flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. He died in the ocean.
We all know that something like this could never happen or could it? When we allow ourselves to be taken in to the point of thinking that we can do something we can't, most times it will create the opposite of what one expects.
It is nice to have high ideals. To reach out and see just how high one can fly, but it is also necessary to remember that only the real "Us" is allowed to do that. This body, that we live in, is created for a 3rd and 4th dimensional world.
How high have you been? Have you tripped on the moon or farther? There isn't any reason one can't do things like this. We are limited by our thoughts and feelings.
Many people do not even think that there is a possibility of flying on wings of wax. It is possible if we don't use this flight to become more than we really are.
We were given the ability to create in a non-limiting way. So why not fly? Flying is to birds what swimming is to fish. It is learning what out limitations are and superseding them.
Some people are so grounded that to even thinking beyond the always, is too hard for them. They want to keep everything just as it is right now in their world. Life isn't that way. Nothing stays stationary. From the time something is created, it is in the process of decaying, unless it is constantly up-graded, repaired or focused into being all the time.
A long time ago I learned that we always have to be recreating our world to keep it real. Have you ever seen a housewife who is constantly rearranging her furniture? She isn't neurotic. She is just trying to hang on to her reality. How many times do we walk into the same room and never notice the details of that room? That is because we have duplicated everything in our heads so it has vanished from our awareness.
Our awareness is the base for building our wings. It is the way we get to see what is, and sometimes isn't in the space that we now occupy. Are we aware of the air around us? Are we aware of the sounds around us? Are we aware of the beings that are around us?
We are lead sometimes to be there for others but we miss a lot of the signals. We are guided to places that we might never visit on our own. We are warned when we are in the wrong places but do we always listen?
Flying on wings of wax takes a bit of talent. We have been given the ability to do so and are guided to the places and people that will help us do this. But never fly so high that you can't see a bit of reality and always have a plan B. Don't forget that after each flight, one must touch base with what is around us and remember that some people have never flown. They would not relate to our tales of fancy.
Allow those who live in a different reality, the privilege of their worlds. It is the reality that they use to make all their decisions. These are not your decisions but theirs and they are beautiful decisions, for them.
Life is a wonderful trip when you have fellow travelers who can relate. Find someone who lives in your neighborhood, someone that talks your language and will share experiences of flight. We are all in the process of building our wings so we need to enjoy our creations.
We all know that something like this could never happen or could it? When we allow ourselves to be taken in to the point of thinking that we can do something we can't, most times it will create the opposite of what one expects.
It is nice to have high ideals. To reach out and see just how high one can fly, but it is also necessary to remember that only the real "Us" is allowed to do that. This body, that we live in, is created for a 3rd and 4th dimensional world.
How high have you been? Have you tripped on the moon or farther? There isn't any reason one can't do things like this. We are limited by our thoughts and feelings.
Many people do not even think that there is a possibility of flying on wings of wax. It is possible if we don't use this flight to become more than we really are.
We were given the ability to create in a non-limiting way. So why not fly? Flying is to birds what swimming is to fish. It is learning what out limitations are and superseding them.
Some people are so grounded that to even thinking beyond the always, is too hard for them. They want to keep everything just as it is right now in their world. Life isn't that way. Nothing stays stationary. From the time something is created, it is in the process of decaying, unless it is constantly up-graded, repaired or focused into being all the time.
A long time ago I learned that we always have to be recreating our world to keep it real. Have you ever seen a housewife who is constantly rearranging her furniture? She isn't neurotic. She is just trying to hang on to her reality. How many times do we walk into the same room and never notice the details of that room? That is because we have duplicated everything in our heads so it has vanished from our awareness.
Our awareness is the base for building our wings. It is the way we get to see what is, and sometimes isn't in the space that we now occupy. Are we aware of the air around us? Are we aware of the sounds around us? Are we aware of the beings that are around us?
We are lead sometimes to be there for others but we miss a lot of the signals. We are guided to places that we might never visit on our own. We are warned when we are in the wrong places but do we always listen?
Flying on wings of wax takes a bit of talent. We have been given the ability to do so and are guided to the places and people that will help us do this. But never fly so high that you can't see a bit of reality and always have a plan B. Don't forget that after each flight, one must touch base with what is around us and remember that some people have never flown. They would not relate to our tales of fancy.
Allow those who live in a different reality, the privilege of their worlds. It is the reality that they use to make all their decisions. These are not your decisions but theirs and they are beautiful decisions, for them.
Life is a wonderful trip when you have fellow travelers who can relate. Find someone who lives in your neighborhood, someone that talks your language and will share experiences of flight. We are all in the process of building our wings so we need to enjoy our creations.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Listening
What is a best friend? Or even just a good friend? I think I have figured this out. It isn't someone who comes in and fights all your battles but one who comes in and understands how you are feeling about the battle.
For the last 6 months I have been planning my 70th birthday party. I wanted to have a group of my girlfriends over for an afternoon Chocolate party. It sounded so decedent. I made a list of the friends that I enjoy being around the most and sent them invitations.
Then one of these friends that I have known for a very long time called to tell me that she was going to bring an uninvited guest, they would be coming an hour early and she was bringing a party game.
When I hung up I was upset because this wasn't in my plans. I had name tags made out for all of the guests that I had invited. I had a party game that I had worked on for a while, months and although I always expect people to arrive early, this was a lot early. I found myself nattering about this for the good part of the day.
I called a good friend only to hear that I should roll with it. Why? Why should I change my plans of 6 months to accommodate this other friend of mine? My good friend didn't really listen to how upset I was or how this was effecting me, she only wanted to "do the right thing." Isn't that nice? Some people are so sweet they don't need to be invited to a chocolate party. Did I ask for advice? NO. Even my husband wanted to solve this for me by telling me that this person was just trying to help. SO???
Then I called a lady that I have been sharing feelings with for a while, Marie. We write back and forth on the internet and call each other from time to time on the phone. Why do we do this? Why does she call Me? Because unless you ask me to help and give you advice, I won't. I don't give advice because most people don't want advice, they really just want to be heard and that is what I was looking for. I didn't want advice and most of the time neither does Marie, we just want someone to understand how we are feeling about an issue.
My sister's and I learned a long time ago that we didn't give each other advice. We are thinking people that would like to be heard. Do people think that they need to tell us what is right or wrong because we can't think for ourselves? Or do they think that we don't know the difference?
My internet friend could hear my upset and hurt. She said, "The lady sounds like she has control issues?" I told my internet friend that I don't think that she does. I believe that the controlling friend is afraid of coming to my party alone. She doesn't want to be embarrassed by my game so she wants to bring one that she knows all about. She is a very insecure person. I understood the problem but that didn't make me any less hurt and this internet friend understood this.
I made the decision to call the "controlling friend" and talk this out. This is my year of change and it means to stand up for me. Not to allow others to take over. I called and told my friend that I couldn't have her bring a person that I don't know to my party. If she needs to be picked up, my husband would be happy to do that. (He had already volunteered this as part of his solution to my problem.) I explained that I think I understand a little about what is happening in her world but to correct me if I get it wrong. She was afraid that my game would embarrass her and make her look dumb. I explained how the game is played and she felt better. Then I told her that coming an hour early would only run into my getting our lunch dishes cleaned up and put away. I told her that Vern loves to display things like cakes and candies so that if she came early, it would take away from his part. She said that she understood but I think it took her a while to process this because the next day she called to say that she was sorry that she had upset my plans. We talked and could see both sides of this story.
It isn't my intention to have to always have my own way….OK, maybe it is but I really like having friends who know that I have the ability to see both sides and will do the right thing if they allow me to have my own feelings about it. My feelings are all mine. I own them and if I don't like what I am feeling, then I have to do something about it.
It hurt a lot to have my other friend and my husband think that they had to solve this problem. It is like saying, "You aren't smart enough to do this without our input. We know right from wrong better than you do."
Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone else is just, listen.
This is the best thing that I learned while training on the Crisis Hot-Line. People around us treat us like we are stupid so by calling a hot-line where people are trained in reflective listening, you get to hear what you are saying and can make the necessary adjustments to your program.
Now that could become a problem and since I have left the hot line, I find that very few people know how to communicate. Communication is a two way street. The Hot-Line communicate is very different.
The other problem is that most people don't want to talk about feelings. If I ask my husband how he feels about something, he looks at me like I am nuts. If I ask him what he thinks about something, I get all sorts of information. Why is it hard to allow one to find out about your feelings?
When my children were younger, Kathy would call and tell me that this was a "COPE" (crisis hot-line) call. That meant, don't tell me what to do, just listen to me but we want to share so this kind'a fell by the wayside over the years.
We need people to share their ideas but there are also times when we need to be heard. How do we know the difference? If there is a problem that seems more serious then it needs listening, reflect the problem and listen. If it is just sharing what you have been doing, that is ordinary conversation.
Is it possible that most people can't tell the difference? Or is it that my life is just one big problem? One question leads to many others.
Take time to listen to someone today.
For the last 6 months I have been planning my 70th birthday party. I wanted to have a group of my girlfriends over for an afternoon Chocolate party. It sounded so decedent. I made a list of the friends that I enjoy being around the most and sent them invitations.
Then one of these friends that I have known for a very long time called to tell me that she was going to bring an uninvited guest, they would be coming an hour early and she was bringing a party game.
When I hung up I was upset because this wasn't in my plans. I had name tags made out for all of the guests that I had invited. I had a party game that I had worked on for a while, months and although I always expect people to arrive early, this was a lot early. I found myself nattering about this for the good part of the day.
I called a good friend only to hear that I should roll with it. Why? Why should I change my plans of 6 months to accommodate this other friend of mine? My good friend didn't really listen to how upset I was or how this was effecting me, she only wanted to "do the right thing." Isn't that nice? Some people are so sweet they don't need to be invited to a chocolate party. Did I ask for advice? NO. Even my husband wanted to solve this for me by telling me that this person was just trying to help. SO???
Then I called a lady that I have been sharing feelings with for a while, Marie. We write back and forth on the internet and call each other from time to time on the phone. Why do we do this? Why does she call Me? Because unless you ask me to help and give you advice, I won't. I don't give advice because most people don't want advice, they really just want to be heard and that is what I was looking for. I didn't want advice and most of the time neither does Marie, we just want someone to understand how we are feeling about an issue.
My sister's and I learned a long time ago that we didn't give each other advice. We are thinking people that would like to be heard. Do people think that they need to tell us what is right or wrong because we can't think for ourselves? Or do they think that we don't know the difference?
My internet friend could hear my upset and hurt. She said, "The lady sounds like she has control issues?" I told my internet friend that I don't think that she does. I believe that the controlling friend is afraid of coming to my party alone. She doesn't want to be embarrassed by my game so she wants to bring one that she knows all about. She is a very insecure person. I understood the problem but that didn't make me any less hurt and this internet friend understood this.
I made the decision to call the "controlling friend" and talk this out. This is my year of change and it means to stand up for me. Not to allow others to take over. I called and told my friend that I couldn't have her bring a person that I don't know to my party. If she needs to be picked up, my husband would be happy to do that. (He had already volunteered this as part of his solution to my problem.) I explained that I think I understand a little about what is happening in her world but to correct me if I get it wrong. She was afraid that my game would embarrass her and make her look dumb. I explained how the game is played and she felt better. Then I told her that coming an hour early would only run into my getting our lunch dishes cleaned up and put away. I told her that Vern loves to display things like cakes and candies so that if she came early, it would take away from his part. She said that she understood but I think it took her a while to process this because the next day she called to say that she was sorry that she had upset my plans. We talked and could see both sides of this story.
It isn't my intention to have to always have my own way….OK, maybe it is but I really like having friends who know that I have the ability to see both sides and will do the right thing if they allow me to have my own feelings about it. My feelings are all mine. I own them and if I don't like what I am feeling, then I have to do something about it.
It hurt a lot to have my other friend and my husband think that they had to solve this problem. It is like saying, "You aren't smart enough to do this without our input. We know right from wrong better than you do."
Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone else is just, listen.
This is the best thing that I learned while training on the Crisis Hot-Line. People around us treat us like we are stupid so by calling a hot-line where people are trained in reflective listening, you get to hear what you are saying and can make the necessary adjustments to your program.
Now that could become a problem and since I have left the hot line, I find that very few people know how to communicate. Communication is a two way street. The Hot-Line communicate is very different.
The other problem is that most people don't want to talk about feelings. If I ask my husband how he feels about something, he looks at me like I am nuts. If I ask him what he thinks about something, I get all sorts of information. Why is it hard to allow one to find out about your feelings?
When my children were younger, Kathy would call and tell me that this was a "COPE" (crisis hot-line) call. That meant, don't tell me what to do, just listen to me but we want to share so this kind'a fell by the wayside over the years.
We need people to share their ideas but there are also times when we need to be heard. How do we know the difference? If there is a problem that seems more serious then it needs listening, reflect the problem and listen. If it is just sharing what you have been doing, that is ordinary conversation.
Is it possible that most people can't tell the difference? Or is it that my life is just one big problem? One question leads to many others.
Take time to listen to someone today.
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