Remembering Vickie

When I was married to Joe, we were part of a wonderful group of folks who got together at Tom's cabin up in the woods sometime in October for a number of years for an annual event we called Fall Fest. John and Vickie traveled from Florida to join us in horse shoe throwing, wood splitting, and drinking-your-brains-out events. Fall Fest ended for various reasons, but friendships remained. The summer that Joe was so sick, John and Vickie, Tom and Ann, John and Debbie, and Joe and I had one more special time together at a Jimmy Buffett concert at Alpine Valley. In November that year, Joe lost his battle with cancer. And then, unbelievably, just over two months later, we lost Vickie. She went to work one morning, complained of a headache, and was claimed by a brain aneurysm. Our group was shaken to its core. We were all way too young to lose the ones we loved. But we did.

We did the best we could in the years that followed, John, and I, a thousand some miles apart, putting one foot in front of the other, living the lives the cards had dealt us. We saw each other a couple of times as years went by, mostly at events involving Tom and Ann and John and Debbie (and their children). And then Ann took me along on the trip to Sarasota last March, that led us to see that, maybe, the time was right to bring the past and the present together in our lives.

Its been quite the season for memories, this year, as first me, and now John, faced the ten year anniversary of those events. John and I each have memories of Vickie and Joe. Some memories are shared with the others who loved us all. Tom and Ann were married by Vickie, who, as a lawyer, was also a notary public. Debbie and John and their kids had wonderful visits to FL with John and Vickie. And of course, there was Vickie's chili recipe that I messed up by adding carrots. It's a story we love to tell.

And then there are more private memories, some of which John and I have shared in the dark of night, some of which remain to be shared.

There are, of course, memories that John and I are making together, and memories yet to be made. After tomorrow, we will talk more of those. But as Ecclesiastes says, there is a time to mourn. Tonight, we think of Vickie, and we mourn. Vickie, we remember, and we miss you. And we do the best we can to honor your memory.

What I'm Reading: Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

Have had to step back from the Milwaukee-area writer's group that I joined a couple years ago, before I moved up here and when I was hoping to make in the freelance market. Read 23 is the book club branch of that group, and I've stepped back from that too, but they were reading a book in the humor category this month and I figured I'd give it a try, and I'm very glad I did.

The book is titled Going Postal, by Terry Pratchett, or as Joel, who chose the book informed us, Sir Terry Pratchett, as the extremely prolific British author has been recently knighted. Sir Terry has also recently announced that he has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, which I think I wrote about sometime last month.

Going Postal is sort of a modern-day/alternate reality/fantasy book. The main character, Moist Van Lipwig (who describes himself as world champion at leaving town in a hurry), finds himself in a very strange city after being semi-hung where he is forced into becoming postmaster only to find literally tons and tons of decades worth of undelivered mail, some very eccentric postal workers, a golem for a probation officer/body guards and bad guys named Reacher Gilt and Lord Vetinari. The book is part of Pratchett's Discworld Series, which I googled yesterday and found out a little about. It reminds me of Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next series, which I enjoyed very much a few years ago.

I'm only a few chapters into the book and I've already had a number of "Laugh Out Loud" moments. The first came on page 3. Okay, I just looked back to quote it but it's not going to sound funny at all out of context, so I won't. Maybe the one on page 10 will work better. As Moist is being led to the gallows and sees all the people who have come to watch, he thinks, "Steal five dollars and you were a petty thief. Steal thousands of dollars and you were either a government or a hero."

I'll probably write more about this book and this author, either before I finish the book, or after. But I need to get back to reading. Book Club meets next weekend!

Today was a good day to be an American. Barack Obama makes us all look good.

I realized last night that I'd never seen a tv in the huge building where I work. I wondered whether I'd be able to see any of the inauguration. And since I don't have tv reception at home, it's not like I could come home and watch it tonight. I found out that there is a tv in the small workout room on the first floor of the building, and it would have been interesting to see if any of my colleagues crowded in there to watch, but I discovered that I could watch it live on my computer at my desk, and with head phones on, I could even still do some work. Sort of. Truth be told, I found myself mesmerized by what I watched, and what I heard. The president elect walking solemnly toward the stage, and then there was the smile! The pageantry blending in a very American way with pure and simple humanity. In that most solemn of moments, with the whole world watching, the Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court muffs the oath! The new president stammers, smiles, and goes on, so help me God! In the end, no matter how much we practice, no matter how much the moment means, we're all just humans.

I loved the playing of Simple Gifts. A wonderful piece of music, delivered by extremely gifted musicians. I loved watching Aretha sing her heart out. You go girl. And I'd say she's earned the right to wear whatever she damn well pleases on her head!

I loved the poem delivered by Elizabeth Alexander. (I need to find out more about her.) I loved the everyday people she talked about, mending things, waiting for a bus, teaching, whose lives are changed by what happens in Washington D.C. today. Say it plain, she says, many have died for this day. It makes me think of Emmit Till, the black boy from Chicago who was visiting relatives in the south and was murdered by white men for daring to speak to a married white woman. And yet, Anderson continues, what if, after all, the mightiest word is love. This was one of several moments, sitting at my desk with my head phones on, papers in front of me so I would sort of look like I was working, I had tears in my eyes.

And I loved the benediction. I thoroughly enjoyed listening to Pastor Lowry pray. The rousing Amen! and Amen! that he coaxed from the frozen crowd was an absolutely perfect end of the ceremonies, as far as I was concerned.

Lord knows, Barack Obama faces an incredibly difficult task. I can't even begin to imagine. He's going to need all the help he can get. But I've got to believe America is a whole lot better off today than it was yesterday. President Obama. I love it!

a president who knows his history

Was just reading a little online article about president-elect Obama's train ride today. The report mentioned Obama's use of phrases that call to mind the words of Abraham Lincoln, John Kennedy, and Martin Luther King, Jr. He spoke of acting with "fierce urgency," words favored by MLK, and he alluded to our "better angels," as Lincoln did. I've heard Obama criticized for a tendency to quote these great leaders, with the critics claiming that this shows a lack of original thought. I disagree. I think it shows an awareness of history that has been sorely lacking in the current administration, certainly, and in many previous administrations as well. I'd love to have a president who knows his history, who is willing to learn from the past, and build on the lessons that America should have learned along the way. The three leaders listed above were all very human, were men who found themselves in a position to lead, and who accomplished much, despite each's own human foibles. Good people to quote from, and learn from, I'd say.

a good weekend in the pines

Been a good weekend, which I really needed. Have been fighting to blues for a couple weeks, and Friday was a rough day at work. Friday night I had pizza and beer and lay on the couch and watched a cute movie, Elf, with an afghan wrapped around me and Cindy Cat on my lap. Saturday morning started with a phone call from John, and other than being with him, that's about as good a way to start the weekend as I can think of.

Went out on my cross country skis on Saturday, and though I only got part way up the hill by Joe's spot and had to retreat back to level it ground, it was a great workout. Then Ann and I took the trash to the dump and went to the Coloma Coffeehouse for a delightful lunch and then went four doors down to the Coloma Winehouse and splurged on a few wonderful bottles of wine. Both places are owned by Chris and Steve, a truly delightful couple that Coloma is very lucky to have! Steve loves to talk wine, and he knew he had an appreciative audience with Ann and me. We even got to sample some wine and cheese and it was a very successful A&E outing.

Saturday evening I curled up with the Birds & Blooms book that Brendan gave me for Christmas. I feasted my eyes on colorful birds and butterflies and flowers. Great therapy.

And today I decided to put the skis on again. I started out in the front of the property, in the pines between my place and Sarah and Jason's. It's a part of the land I don't walk on very often, and it was beautiful and quiet in the snow. And then I ended up back by Joe's spot, and the big hill that did me in yesterday. I decided to give it another try. I got as far as I got yesterday, and started to slide backwards again, and really thought I wasn't going to make it. But I stayed on my feet and dug in my poles, and made it all the way up the hill! What a glorious feeling! I sent John a text from the summit. (It's really not that big a hill to anyone except a poor skier.) The path that neighbors John and Debbie had made headed toward the back of the property, but I went towards the front, past the old camping site. I fell right around there, and had to struggle to get my ski off so that I could get up and get to a place where I could put it back on, and then I skied to where the deer trail comes down through the woods and comes out by the meadow by my place. I didn't think I could make it down that path through the woods on the skis, but I did. Skied across the meadow and was coming up the hill into my yard when I fell again, again in some pretty deep snow. Struggling to get to my feet within about 30 yards of home, I took the skis off and found some shallower snow to walk through the rest of the way. My heart was pounding. Another intense 45 minute work out.

The rest of the day was spent working on a project for Ann's business. It involved transferring text and photos from some email attachments to a document in InDesign. The text was easy enough, except that I didn't leave room for one entry and had to rearrange the whole thing, but I really struggled with the photos. Finally Ann called and talked me through it, and I was just about as excited to get that figured out as I had been to reach the top of Mt. Lucas! (And a lot warmer!)

Followed that accomplishment with a nice dinner while listening to Simply Folk on WI public radio. And now it's time for bed, a new work week starts tomorrow, but I have to say, it was a very good weekend.

What I’m Reading: Randy Pausch’s Last Lecture

Actually, all I read was an excerpt of Randy Pausch's Last Lecture online, and I'm crying, which really makes it hard to type. I want to get the book and read the whole thing.

I'd heard about Randy, the computer scientist dying of pancreatic cancer who delivered this lecture on fulfilling your life's dreams as his life was ending, at the age of 46. Was reminded of him when I saw him listed in Time Magazine's (Jan 5 '09 issue) Farewell tribute to some of those lost this past year.

Of course his thoughts about how to spend his last months struck a chord and made me think about how my husband faced this situation. Made me think about what I would do. Made me think of that song, "Live Like You Were Dying," which has always irked me. How about, "Live Like You Know You're Going to Die Some Day, But You're Glad You're Alive Now, and You Want to Know When Time Is Up That You Did the Best You Could with What Time You Had." Ok, I guess that's a little unwieldy.

'Cause, the thing is, we are mortal, much as we pretend not to be, and none of us knows how much time we've got. When I talked to my mom today and wished her a Happy New Year, she voiced her fears about what the year would bring. I knew what she meant. Who would not be here at the end of 2009? Her fears are for my dad. But who knows?

Randy had to make choices about how to face his pending death. I wonder how I would deal with that? Randy's family had to deal with watching him die. I've been there. It sucks. But then some of use lose the ones we love dearly with little or no warning at all. I don't for a minute imagine that's any less awful.

Joel, a book club friend, sent me an email the other day about Terry Pratchett, British author, recently knighted, facing the onset of Alzheimer's. Damn Alzheimer's, I told my friend. Damn cancer. Damn heart disease. Damn the loss of those we love. Damn the indignities of mortality. Damn the ache of being left to blunder on alone.

My New Year’s Thoughts

Like all years, 2008 had its share of both ups and downs for me. How could a year be otherwise?

I started a new job on Jan. 2, 2008, which has turned out to be a very good job for me. I'm working with national education issues, I'm challenged to grow and learn, and I've especially learned a lot of computer skills. I work with a great group of people who I've come to care a lot about, and who care about me. I hate the long commute, which cost me a small fortune in gas this year, which has put a lot of miles on my poor old car, which sucks up hours of my life each week, and which has been dangerous on all too many occasions last winter and this. And I don't make enough money to pay my bills.

Ah, bills, another low point. I've borrowed from my life insurance. I'm cashing in IRAs to pay property tax. I use credit cards for groceries and gas and I'm barely making minimum payments on them. The worst is that I cannot help my sons out the way I want to, the way I feel I ought to. Very depressing. Let's move on.

Was a very tough year for health issues. Fortunately, I'm still doing pretty well, except for this stupid cough that I've had since the beginning of November, and a nagging back ache that hurts like hell from time to time. Emotional wellness for one of my sons was a life and death crisis this summer, but we came through that, and thankfully, he's doing better. But it's a worry, like no other. My friend Tom's recent heart crisis has given all of us 50-60 somethings here on the prairie pause this holiday season. Helping Tom heal and get on with life is a mission I heartily endorse. And it motivates me to mind my own heart as well. I need to watch my eating habits a little more closely. I definitely need to lose some weight. I need to moderate the alcohol consumption.

Fortunately, after looking at this mixed bag of ups and downs, I hold the winning card in my hand, and that would be the queen of hearts. Love trumps everything, I like to say. And this year I found a love that makes me smile, that makes me feel young, that makes me look forward to the new year and the next time I get to be with him.

Life is precious. Each day is a gift. I'm grateful to have made it through 2008. I'm looking forward to living and loving my way through 2009.

A Mother Bear Issue

I just saw the yahoo news headline that Sarah Palin's daughter gave birth to a baby boy. That simple headline, disguising an incredibly difficult family situation, prompts me to the unlikely response of writing a blog about Sarah Palin.

I remember when I first heard the name Sarah Palin. I was in the airport on my way to Sarasota when I saw tv news coverage of John McCain's introduction of his choice of running mate. My first thought was that McCain was being paternalistic with his arm around her waist in a way that just struck me as wrong. My opinion went downhill from there. Mostly I was turned off by the fact that she seemed to have way more ambition than intelligence. I was insulted by the statements that Alaskans were somehow more "real" Americans than the rest of us who don't look or live like them. My opinion of her was so low that I even participated in a little of the mud slinging that sprang up around her, and I'm not proud of that. I'm all for spunky women candidates, and I detest the idea of sexuality being used unfairly against women.

Though there were plenty of reasons I didn't want to see Sarah Palin as vice president, let alone in line for the presidency, and though I stooped to passing along a nasty joke, I was, and am, repulsed at the idea that her daughter's pregnancy would be held against her. When I hear people say that she should have prosecuted her daughter's boyfriend for statutory rape, I'm sorry, it brings out the mother bear in me, I want to stand up and roar and take a swipe with my claws. As a mother who can all to easily imagine how my sons could have found themselves in a similar position to that young man's, I would hate to think that my value as an individual would be measured by that incredibly difficult situation.

It didn't matter to me that Barack Hussein Obama has a funny name. It didn't matter to me that Sarah Palin gave her kids funny names (and now her daughter followed suit). Fortunately, on things that matter, I believe we made a good choice for president. I sincerely send best wishes to Bristol Palin. Being an 18 year old single new mother is not an easy role to play, let alone having to face the feeding frenzy of her mother's enemies.

Is it spring yet?

Ok, so, it's been a week since winter solstice, the beginning of winter. Is it spring yet?! I heard that we've broken the record in WI for most snow in December, and that was two or three snows ago!

I needed my driveway plowed on Christmas Eve day before Brendan got here, and I needed it plowed again the day after Christmas before he could leave. I was supposed to go to work on Friday, and get new tires on my car while I was at work that day, and I had to call the tire place to tell them that I couldn't get to work on my old tires in order to get the new ones!

Once the snow was plowed, the temperatures started to rise, making for foggy conditions with all the moisture in the air. Then the rains came, Friday night, and all day Saturday. Saturday morning the fog was dense as I made the drive to the town dump. My friend and neighbor Tom usually takes my trash with his on the Saturday dump run. This week, I gladly did it for him, while Ann was driving to the hospital to spring him. It was kind of cool too, how people at the dump were especially cheerful, trying to make up for the gloomy weather, it seemed. When I stopped at the little supermarket in town, an older woman, who could have been my mother, admonished me to go right home from there, because of the nasty weather. I love these small towns!

By Saturday night the temperature started to fall and all the standing water from the rain and melting snow turned to ice. And then it snowed. There were four new inches of snow when I woke up this morning. As I was getting dressed, a snow plow pulled in my driveway. I tried to go outside to move my car, but my screen door was frozen in place and I had to use a hammer to unlatch it and get out! Then, I couldn't get any of the car doors open because of the ice under the snow. Fortunately, I was able to open the back hatch of my Jimmy, climb over the seats (tumble is more like it), start the car and then kick my way out! After my driveway was plowed I walked out to my mailbox, or should I say skated, as the ice under the snow looked like some of the frozen lakes I used to ice fish on. Bring on the zamboni, let's play hockey!

What I’m Reading: Time Commentary, Traditions

Just read a commentary in the Jan. 5 2009 (!) issue of Time (last week's man of the year issue - talk about time warp!), called Listen to the Kids. Nancy Gibbs is writing about how important traditions are to kids, and it made me think about Travis and Brendan and me. She says, "Some traditions are accidents, elevated into ceremonies." That made me think of how one time, a couple years ago, Brendan and a couple of his friends came to visit here, and I happened to have a bag of socks that I'd bought, and I gave them each a pair of socks, and that turned into a tradition, that every time Brendan comes to see me, he gets at least one pair of new socks. When he got here for Christmas this year, there was a fresh pair of socks waiting for him on the bed in the spare room.

Another neat thought from the commentary was that though new traditions move us forward, older traditions "reel us back to where we came from." What an interesting idea that traditions can take us both forwards and back. That is so true for my boys and I. I was commenting to someone recently that Christmas can be difficult for Travis and Brendan and I right now because we don't really have a central gathering place, a family home. Someone else is living in our family home right now. Brendan's in a house he's lived in a few months, Travis is in a house he's about to move out of, and I'm in a trailer on the woods 150 miles away from them. But we are held together by something else, something intangible, call it memories, call it tradition.

When I see Travis, I will give him his Christmas stocking with some beef jerky in it, a tradition that started somewhere along the way. When Brendan was here on Christmas, there was little tradition about it, but all that mattered was that we were together. As Nancy Gibbs says, "It is the sense of tradition that makes us whole." I like that. I think Travis and Brendan and I have a sense of tradition, even as our lives continue to evolve and change. I hope and pray that that helps them feel whole.

As Nancy Gibbs says, "Traditions survive; they are made of love and longing for what we value, and so we hold them close and take them wherever we go." I can think of no better gift to give my sons, this Christmas, and always.