Family: a New Dynamic

This is the first school break we are spending with our sons, both home from college. I have noticed how different this feels from those school breaks when they were little and ten days in close proximity was not always happily anticipated.

As "older parents," we were hard pressed to find the energy to full-time parent our active sons when they were young. When they started school, we only had to muster energy for part of each day, so it was manageable. When the specter of 10 days at home together approached, I would panic. Snow for a few days, hot chocolate, a fire in the fireplace, some board games, cocoa, etc. -  this was fun. After those few days, the kids were bored, complaints ensued and we all couldn't wait for school to start.

As they grew older and more independent, they entertained themselves with computers and friends, so time together was much more enjoyable (for my husband and I, anyway. As for the kids, there were periods they didn't want to be caught dead with us, which happily, they outgrew). Vacations were now less work for us as we didn't have to cater to constant meals and snacks. Yes, the good news was that they were growing up. That was also the bad news.

The dynamic this past summer vacation was different and wonderful. The boys each had a friend with them, so it was like a huge family; especially the one night we all shared with my sister and my two nieces. I treasured watching the boys in the kitchen fixing dinner together and serving us! The only thing to even hint at imperfection was that the time we had together was too short.

Then we had a nice Thanksgiving dinner at my cousin's house - like a sister and brother to me, my cousin and her husband have been close to us since the boys were born.

Now here we are at the holiday break and we have our younger son home for a full winter break. He and his friends have already been here jamming: drums and electric guitars shaking the rafters. Our older son is here for nine days, which is the longest we have been with him at one time, since he went back to college in Boston. He is cooking up a storm for us, for his friends and for Christmas dinner at my mother-in-law's house. Our grocery bill just quadrupled, I've gained 7 lbs. since he got here last weekend, and my kitchen is hostage to food preparation and its aftermath.

It is annoying? Yes. Does it feel intrusive? Yes. Is it wonderful? Oh, you can bet your life, it is!

Honoring Loss / Ode to Joy

You may be thinking, "Why would I want to honor loss?" It's such a bad feeling, but it is part of our lives, as sure as is breathing.

Over the life span of this blog, you will probably read more than one entry about loss. It's because we all experience it, and we do so in many ways. Throughout our lives we all lose loved ones, animals, things, experiences, hopes and dreams. But why dwell on it, you may wonder? It is important because it shapes the very fabric of who we become.

From early on, when we lose our first teddy bear, to the present when we lose our keys, loss invokes a sense of hopelessness, frustration, anger and maybe even despair, when the stakes are high. Surely our personal temperament adds a layer to how we cope. Being organized helps us not to lose our "stuff," and is an easy strategy, within our control, that we can employ to reduce these negative feelings.

When loss is thrust upon us and not in our control however, it shakes our foundations. We can't do anything to stop it, control it, prevent it. When loss is premature, it is somehow more unfair. When a life is well lived and fruitful, we accept loss with a little more understanding.

This past month, a dear friend passed away after a decades-long bout with cancer. It kept coming in new places and she kept on seeking treatments, conventional and unconventional. What was striking is how she lived with this incurable disease. She had so much left to do in her life, and cancer wasn't going to interfere (only temporarily during treatments). She reported the latest medical news of the past year each summer, where we saw her at our lake cabin in Maine. Each summer in past years, as I knew the cancer stubbornly kept returning with greater vengeance, I feared she would not be at the lake. In the last 2 summers, my fears were realized as she was in too much pain to make the long trip. Instead, I visited her upstate NY where she lived year 'round.

In spite of horrific pain that not even morphine would control, she continued to make her plans from the couch: another article to be mailed, a story to be written (she was a writer). I hurt for her, mostly saddened to see what cancer had done to her body, and fearful of how much more time I would have with her, all the while not wanting her to suffer. The doctors could not explain how she held out in the past years as her condition was so frail and she was riddled with cancer in every organ and bone of her body. She simply wasn't ready to die, I reasoned.

Last week I tried calling her house numerous times and got no answer. I had a feeling, and kept trying. She had been in and out of the hospital and I assumed she was back in . . . . or worse. Finally the call came on Saturday, that she passed away the previous Friday - when I began calling her home.

Her family tried to find my phone number, knowing I would want to know, and that their mother wanted me to know. Just in time, we got the call that the memorial service was the following day. I sobbed only when we first sat down in the church. Once the service began, I felt a warm embrace from my friend, for she was still looking after those who loved her.

She loved music. She raised her children with music all around, and produced several talented musicians among them. Various family members played and sang just the right music, spoke the right words and prayers and later at the reception, showed photos from her life, set to music. Indeed, this was a fitting tribute and celebration of an amazing life, that we were all privileged to share.

So while I will miss her, I am grateful for being chosen to share in her life. She had enough love for a family with six siblings, six children, a dozen grandchildren and a great-granddaughter, to give some to her many friends. I am blessed to have been one of them.

So I say to my dear friend Joy, who was so appropriately named by her parents, be at rest now after your painful journey; embraced by the love of everyone you loved here on earth.

Possessions, Creativity and Clutter

All day, I was doing paperwork, cleaning up and cleaning out, moving "stuff," shining shoes (yes, I actually do shine my own shoes, with the old fashioned brushes and paste shoe polish), looking for a variety of misplaced objects. Seems to me I lost a whole day. I know things get misplaced when we straighten up and I know it's because there is too much in this house! For sure, I blame my husband for a lot of misplaced things. Like last month I asked where our mitre box and saw was. He couldn't find not the one, not the second, and not even the third set I know we own. He offered to go to Home Depot to get another one. I was nearly hysterical! Who needs 4 mitre box sets in one home?

I resent all the attention we need to give to our possessions. It seems to me that the more tools and gadgets we get to make our lives easier, the more work we have to do to; clean them, put them away, and worst of all, find them when we need them again. I swore some years ago that I would start downsizing. I was beginning to feel my "stuff" owned me, rather than the other way around, so I struck a bargain with myself. If something new came in, something old would have to go. If something needed special care, it was off the list. I was good for awhile, but being the pack rat of "things that will be good for a future art project," the stuff just kept piling in.

Who could resist the bargains at Goodwill or on closeout? What about all those interesting "found objects" (read: junk; garbage) that would look great in the next piece of art I want to create? I need things to carry things around in, containers to store things in, shelves to put them on . . . .  and on it goes!

Maybe for next year, I will resolve to use all the things I have in my studio before bringing in anything new materials. Yeah, maybe . . . . .

Frustration

Frustration comes in many different shapes and sizes. We are frustrated at times, with ourselves, spouses, friends, bosses or siblings. Frustration is born from a feeling of helplessness to "fix" a problem. Granted, when frustration comes from our own deeds, we have the chance to correct our own course. But what happens when it is because we see a loved one spiraling out of control?

I live with a man who is as good as gold. I'm frustrated that he won't take better care of his health. I've  cajoled him, begged him, pleaded with him, sent him articles - you name it, I've tried it. The kids have asked me to talk with him and I tell them to express their feelings directly to him since I don't have the power to make him change. They have, and it has done nothing to move this mountain.

I can't understand why he is not more concerned himself. He has enjoyed relatively good health in spite of careless treatment of his body - up to recently. As we age and systems break down, his will break down faster and he'll be more seriously impaired. Yes, this is one of my greatest frustrations, on a daily basis.

It hurts when someone you love doesn't care enough about himself to care for his body and mind. It hurts that I will watch his health decline, without being able to do anything about it - all the while resenting too, that my life will be impacted because of it.

What do you do when you feel frustration? How do you cope?

On Moderation

So you ate too much this Thanksgiving. Now you will enter the holiday season of massive shopping and gluttonous eating and drinking.

Have you considered the price you will pay? Maybe it is going into debt that you have to dig yourself out of, come January. Maybe it will require you to start a diet, or at least resolve to. Join a gym, go to the doctor?

Moderation has always been the sensible course, yet it is so hard in the face of the merriment all around us. Why not give yourself the gift that keeps on giving, this holiday season? Moderation is not deprivation. Eat, drink and be merry, but also be sensible. Today's overindulgence leads to tomorrow's regrets and the need for abstinence.

Resolve to enjoy the company, the spirit of the season, and what you eat, so you won't feel the need to deprive yourself later.

A Message About Your Unique and Awesome Power

There was a passage spoken to the young, female character in Akeelah and the Bee that has moved me and many others. It has been quoted in other movies and in a speech by Nelson Mandela. It has often been incorrectly attributed. This was written by Marianne Williamson in her book "Return to Love." It stands on its own as a tremendous work of inspiration and I wish to share it with you.

Our Deepest Fear

by Marianne Williamson

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Thanksgiving

What are you grateful for?

Thanksgiving is a time to reflect on what we are thankful for. We often dwell on what we don't have. It's easy to do when the media surrounds us with what we should have; must have. If we don't have these things, we feel inadequate. What do we really need?

When my children were young, they would be inundated with commercials for the toys they had to have. Now that they are young men, they are bombarded with the same - grown up electronic toys; also must- haves.

When he was young, I told my son, "no, he could not have that toy." He replied by saying, "I'm tired of being poor." The blood nearly burst out of the veins in my head! I wanted to put him in the car and drive him to places where people really were poor, to give him some healthy perspective. Instead, I got a grip on my emotions and told him that in fact, he was so privileged. He had a nice home to live in, his own room, a computer, TV, pets, good food to eat, instruments to play, etc., etc. In addition, he had two responsible, working parents, who could provide more than he "needed," and much of what he wanted. How dare he be so selfish?

I told him maybe we should have an experiment. I would provide just what he needed and I felt was my moral obligation to provide him. That would include a bed in a heated home, meals and clothing. Everything else was not necessity, rather, they were gifts of abundance. He went to his room to consider it and came out with a straighter perspective. He didn't want to give up all the "extras." He understood that not everyone has all that he has.

Of course, kids forget and will at times feel entitled. I always need to remind them that they are privileged and that in fact, they should be giving back to those less fortunate. So far, I am pleased with the results. They still want their toys, but now they earn the money to buy them. They hold charity concerts, run a non profit, give blood. It's a start. . . . .