FATHER'S DAY -- JEAN -- HOUSE HEARING JAN. 6

FATHER'S DAY I celebrate in tribute to my son, to my husband's memory, and to all those fathers who are uniquely special in the lives of their family. 

SMILE -- Steven Tyler sings to his father; Chris Botti on trumpet, for your viewing at this link:           https://www.facebook.com/watch/?v=992496770834556

(That emotionally moving singular performance was originally slated to be embedded here but then became unavailable for use in that manner.)

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JEAN

I'm not much in the mood for writing since I've learned what I really didn't want to know when I finally mustered the courage to conduct an internet search of a friend's name.  The closest of my undergraduate college friends with whom we've kept in contact with each other all these years has died.  

Jean has been writing she wanted to talk with me but preferred to call, so I waited for her to write a message advising that she was feeling up to talking and when she would phone.   Her last email message to me included her saying she felt "like a slug."  Now, I've discovered that two weeks later she died.

In the days before the internet, I might never have known about the death of some friends since family doesn't always make contact to convey that information.  Most close friends long term have lived many miles distant from me for most of our years during our adult lives.  Seldom, if ever, did we even see each other and in most instances hadn't even met each other's now adult children.  

This close adult life-long friend, Jean, is the third in the past decade I've learned has died but only after I finally searched their name on the internet.   I was hesitant about checking for the second person a few years later after that first loss experience.  Though a letter and phone calls had elicited no response, I delayed further internet checking before finally searching only to once more find the result that I didn't want.  

So, on this third occasion I finally acquired the courage to search a name once again on the internet.  The screen instantly appeared and there Jean was, smiling directly at me, her face and name next to a column titled "Obituary".

I'm so glad I took a side trip stop-over to visit her and her husband as she urged I do on my flight home from visiting with my family several years ago.  I wish now I had stayed longer.  We could have enjoyed so much more time together.  Now, there are only the memories.  So much I could write, but as I said in the beginning, right now I just can't bring myself to immerse deeper into sorrow's moody pool.   I will miss her!

In the decade before this current one when my friends' deaths began becoming more prevalent, some adult children never contacted me then, either, about their parent's death.   One did, but not until a daughter wrote a year later, and another when a son wrote several months later.  

One husband phoned me across the continent quite soon after his wife's death, then broke down on the phone and it was all I could do to emotionally keep it together as I felt I must for him.  Days later the adult daughter called and after determinedly thinking I must keep my emotions under control for her, I could not.

I don't know why with other friends who died I never heard from family, especially in one specific instance.  But  I can appreciate simple contact delays as I guess there's really no longer any rush for any reason.  

I know from my own experience there can be complications after a loved one dies, plus family members personal lives may have extra-demands, too.  There's usually a rush of attention, followed by diminishing concern at some future point in time directed at the deceased's immediate family.   Then that all ends and the remaining significant family member is truly alone.  

All the grieving, adapting, coping can be overwhelming, giving way to the never-ending sense of loss for family and some friends.   On reflection,  after my husband's unexpected sudden death, I have been aware of not handling some matters in the manner which I intended or did so only part-way from what I expected to do.  

Age differences between friends seem to matter little, especially since I've been older.  I often think of one older-than-me long gone friend who wrote me once, "There are no friends like old friends."   New friends, not always easily acquired when we're older, but who can become dear, rarely have the depth the history of time with shared life experiences and changes provides.  

I note also, when an older friend dies there can be a different way of thinking about losing them than when a younger-than-me person departs.  The older person is often said to have had a long life versus the younger one said to have died too young.  When someone my same age dies, as was Jean, the loss resonates in a uniquely personal identification way.  

I've written here before that I've found one of the most difficult aspects of ageing is the longer I live the more friends and family die before me, the fewer who remain living.  My old friends and family once quite expansive in number are now down to less than I can count on one hand for the former, two hands for the latter.  Memories can be cherished though they're not as rich as future personal interactions.   No matter how many of those for whom I care deeply depart this earth, incorporating their loss into my life never becomes easier.

                                ^. ^. ^                           ^. ^. ^                            ^. ^. ^

"Donald Trump and his supporters are a clear and present danger to democracy."

   Judge Luttig quote from the third House Hearing held on June 16, 2022.

United States Select House Committee on January 6th next Hearings:

--Tuesday,   June 21:   l p.m. ET (10 a.m. PT)  

--Thursday, June 23:  3 p.m. ET (Noon PT)  

One more Hearing to be scheduled.

Judge J. Michael Luttig PBS "Frontline Interview" May 25, 2022 "filmed for a forthcoming documentary looking at challenges to American democracy"  HERE.

                                                                                           

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS/MOTHER REMEMBERED

Remembering my mother with much love and affection this Mothers Day!
Tributes to my mother have been written here previously that may be read in the archives.
Increasingly I experience a desire to share my thoughts with Mother the older I become.
She always listened when I wanted to talk.
If only Mother was alive today.

Mother, having become a single parent and the sole support of our family saw that there were funds available so I could have the requisite uniforms as a Brownie then, when I "flew up" those of a full-fledged Girl Scout.  Maybe this Scout song was added later as our troop never knew it.  After mother wed again, then later when my family moved to the country scouting was no longer an available activity for me. 

GIRL SCOUT SONG "MAKE NEW FRIENDS'

 

Thinking of the people at varying levels of acquaintanceship/friendship I've known during my lifetime they have likely affected my life.  I've previously written of some of them here.  A few others come to mind.

Early in my life, my fifth-grade teacher, Miss Barroway, who a week before had wrapped my knuckles hurtfully with a wooden ruler for exchanging written notes with my boyfriend is one such person.  This day I was staring at a pulsing throbbing on her neck as she sat behind her desk at the front of the room.  Staring intently back at me as our eyes locked, she suddenly called to me to come up front causing me to quickly gasp wondering what had I done now?

I was immediately relieved when she announced I would read the spelling words to the class as she arose and departed the room.  Later, our principal, Miss Broome, entered the room to tell us our teacher had a heart attack.  I must have seen the carotid artery on the left side of her neck pulsating.  

Then there was the Jr. High boy and girl enraptured with each other whose names I don't recall now who were the only classmates that befriended me, a new student at this third of new schools in different states I was in that year.  A fourth school soon followed with a much more friendly student body.

I remember my high school English teacher who introduced me to important mind-expanding literature including Shakespeare via Hamlet.  Nor can I forget she had us memorize the last stanza of 19th century poet William Cullen Bryant's poem, "Thanatopsis", that is encouraging and reveres life, but notes death is part of the life experience.   This poem assumed increasing meaning to me as I became older.

"Thanatopsis" 

"So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, which moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams."

People we've known and admired can disappoint us but we can still respect their more positive qualities I remind myself now when I think of her.

This disappointment with her for me is because during my high school years, a classmate, Jim, rejecting his father's unknown KKK racism to me then had written a final paper for our English class supporting school integration.  I never knew of his paper's subject matter which I didn't learn about until recent years.  That was in the early fifties of the 20th century.

The teacher had given Jim's written thoughts to school administration, who possibly ultimately referred them to the retro-thinking school board.  He was actually expelled from school though I hadn't known all that then.  

My classmate was ahead of his times.  A few years later integration did occur after I moved away from that southern state, though only after the federal government had to bring in troops for the integrating students' protection and to prevent violence.

Having previously been following in his father's footsteps, Jim had altered course.  He went on to a university, then studied to become a minister, was active in the 1960's integration movement, continued his dedication to include assisting those seeking citizenship and asylum in the US. as he presently does.  Now he's also active in the long term care facility where he and his wife reside in Illinois.

After my undergraduate college graduation, having returned to my northern home state I was distressed to discover racism was present there, too, but just less obvious.   Unexpectedly, a situation arose necessitating friends there and I take action to circumvent and bypass a racist exclusionary effort by an organization to which most of us belonged toward a new member of our group of friends.

Such protest and resistance is precisely what I believe each of us must do in everyday living if we're ever to truly integrate to fulfill America's and democracy's promise of equality for all.    This does not occur with that population minority striving toward converting our nation to an autocracy contrary to their occasional words.

Undergrad college in my early years brought lifelong friends as did the university in Southern California where I returned for post graduate study many decades later.  In between those years were relationships formed as a consequence of my various employment settings.  There were also neighbors who became friends wherever I lived around the country through the years.  Everyone impacted my life in one way or another contributing to the person I've become.

The harrowing circumstances in Ukraine, refugees fleeing to Poland, Russia's Nazi-like behavior in the war-like invasion of their neighboring country, threat to other nations, prompts me think of a Holocaust survivor, Isabelle Teresa Huber. 

I had the privilege of knowing her in recent years during the short time she was part of our writing group. She had been a professional classical music pianist among her talents.  When she joined our group she was in the process of writing her first book recounting her life experience as only one of three children to live and escape her Poland city during WWII at age three.  She and her mother were separated for a time but ultimately reunited, eventually coming to the United States.

Isabelle's mother came to live with her and son-in-law doctor husband.  He painstakingly regularly engaged her mother in periodic conversation about the early years his wife didn't fully recall.  He took notes of the unraveling of his wife's family's comfortable life then disintegration when the Nazis arrived, her father's departure, how she and her mother escaped, the countries where they lived, how they survived.   All this storytelling became part of her book a regular member of our writing group and longtime personal friend of Isabelle, Nan Miller, was facilitating and editing.

Her book, "Isabelle's Attic", was originally published in 2013 which I reviewed on Amazon.  I looked forward to her next book but her life and that of her friend, Nan, aiding her took quite a different turn.  Isabelle's highly respected orthopedic surgeon husband who had retired, sold his practice, later coped with Alzheimer's Disease, and had to be institutionalized, then died in July 2020.   Meanwhile, Isabelle developed a terminal illness and died in November 2020 -- click on her Claremont Courier obituary with her photograph.   Her second book never could be completed for Nan's editing. 

Meanwhile, Nan's husband and later she also coped with serious medical conditions that prevented their further writing and publishing plans following up on Nan's first published book in 2013, "Girl 44", about her early life as a foster child known by her number 44.

There have been so many more people at a different level of friendship whose names are prominent in my memory but I won't attempt to write about them now.

Each of you have interesting stories of those individuals entering your life and the varying levels of friendships you have formed, I'm sure.  Perhaps you are prompted to recall some of them to share?

LIFE'S VARIETIES -- OCTOPUSES -- FRIEND'S QUIETUS

Life isn’t much different for me right now than it would usually be this time of year when I would typically be staying indoors during the day due to the heat.  Temperatures have suddenly moved into the three-digit Fahrenheit numbers from this summer’s unusually less-warm July days.  Now, humidity is very low with winds whipping around to combine with these high temperatures creating a climate of high fire danger.

So, as I write this, three fires rage in our Southern California surrounding area with at least one having zero containment, requiring some families to vacate their homes with only one such structure reported lost so far.   Thousands of acres are burning with the possibility arson may be a cause in some situations.  How firefighters weighted down with protective clothing and equipment manage to combat these flames in such threatening conditions boggles my mind.  I’m thankful to not be in danger where I live.

Those residents needing to seek safety and shelter due to fire must also contend with the dangers associated with contracting Covid-19.   This virus complicates life for even unthreatened-by-fire ordinary people, especially those without air conditioning who need to seek cooling centers, a few of which have opened.   People seeking safety from the fires or respite from the heat, or both, are required to wear masks, observe social distancing which limits the number of people facilities can accommodate as well as the activities with which people can engage while there.    

This extremely contagious virus continues to spread excessively with a segment of the population refusing to follow recommended safety precautions.   I continue to find it disappointingly incredible that some of my fellow Americans care so little about their own well-being and not at all for that of others despite the obvious potential life and death health issues.

Life for humans and all of Earth’s other creatures continues to be fascinating to me.   I resumed participation in a book club with which I’d been involved for a few years.  Members have changed considerably since my last presence as death has taken its toll on these primarily seniors, but new readers have joined the group.  This was our first virtual meeting as a few gathered in a local retirement community where they lived, with the rest of us Zooming in from our residences.   

The book we discussed was a unique one which I thoroughly enjoyed reading:   Award winning Soul of an Octopus by Sy Montgomery.    The wonder of consciousness is explored with exceptional writing moving this story along with fascinating facts I had not known.  The author’s educated observations were colored with emotional elements I had never imagined could occur between an octopus and human beings.   Descriptions of interactions with several octopuses – yes, that’s the plural not octopi – clearly evidence they each had distinct personalities.  I could never have imagined these short-lived sea creatures could be so interesting. 

I have since pondered the lives of all creatures, including those many varieties in our oceans.  I consider what is known of dolphins, whales, sharks, fish, along with lesser-known-to-me sea life as well as sea urchins, crabs, lobsters we thrust live into boiling water to then devour their meat.  We humans pride ourselves in our superior intelligence, even our humanity, but what about these creatures? 

I found myself wondering if we do discover life on other planets, or should life forms even eventually find us to visit our planet, what might they be like physically, with what moral and ethical values, if any?  Might habitual lying as a means to an end be acceptable behavior as even some humans exhibit?  What might they be like if in possession of emotions?   What might be the implications for we humans?

Remember the original Rod Serling “Twilight Zone” episode entitled “To Serve Man”? Here’s an abridged version:

Thinking about life and death as occurs in all life forms, I’m reminded of recently discovering on the internet an obituary of a friend who died several months earlier, finally confirming what I had been concerned was likely to have occurred.  She had held the 2006 celebration of life in her home in conjunction with many of my husband’s and our old friends after his death.  My children and I with others had travelled there from our respective homes to share that loving experience with one another. 

She was my last connection with any living friend or family member where I also lived many years of my life having key experiences –- where I met my husband, had earlier become politically active, served my first jury duty, effectively diluted with like-minded friends a covert racial discrimination situation, and shared many still treasured memories with then a large family and an abundance of friends on numerous occasions.        

My friend and I had abruptly ended our last phone conversation when she heard some of her family arriving just as she had begun to discuss some concerning personal family matters, expecting we would resume our conversation later.   We never had contact after that.  My letters, while never returned, or phone messages with the number’s recorded message soon changed to be more formal, elicited no response when I periodically called.  Efforts to reach a couple of her adult children I had never met were unsuccessful.   A rumor had been shared with me a few years earlier that she might have Alzheimer’s but was not verified -- I still don’t know. 

The number of living loved ones I have left have dwindled beyond any total I could ever have imagined.  Seems strange to think of myself as the elder in my family and now even among my few remaining living friends.  Just as many have shared here, one of the more difficult aspects of aging is the loss of friends and family which never gets easier.  We treasure the memories and we get on with life as those who care for us want us to do.  

I expect some of you are reading some interesting books, too, some of which may stimulate your thinking to go in many directions.   Maybe you’re engaged in crafts, or any one of a multitude of other activities attractive to you during these challenging times.  Likely your thoughts may occasionally take you on flights of fancy and speculation as mine sometimes do. 

Do continue to stay safe and as healthy as you can be.  Treasure whatever contact you may have with family and friends.   Take comfort in knowing that in time this situation in which we live shall pass.  My only question is, “will that be before or after I do?” she asked quizzically with a chuckle! 

  

MAYDAY -- AGE DIFFERENCES

MAYDAY

The first day of May brought to mind a term that probably could have been applied when the virus with which we’re now coping emerged to become a world pandemic.  “Mayday” is that term which is the international distress signal used mostly by aircraft and ships.  

The term’s adoption in English was in 1923 as described in Merriam-Webster’s Word History:

“Owing to the difficulty of distinguishing the letter “S” by telephone, the international distress signal “S.O.S” will give place to the words “May-day”, the phonetic equivalent of “M’aidez”, the French for “Help me.”

---“New Air Distress Signal, “The Times [London], 2 Feb. 1923”

Most of us likely became familiar with that Mayday term and meaning in dramatic story sequences we read in books or saw in movies.   We now contend with a different type of drama as dissension surfaces over whether or not we need to continue wearing masks and  sheltering-in-place.  Meanwhile, we each adapt and protect ourselves in our own way despite what others do.   I continue to mask and stay in my home though some may choose to do otherwise.

AGE DIFFERENCES SIGNIFICANCE

The other day thoughts came to mind causing me to recall some instances in my life when I’ve been sensitive to age differences.   I thought about some of my friends married to contemporaries with both still living and I admit to feeling a bit envious.   Perhaps, if I had married someone my age I wouldn’t be alone now.  Of course, I know that’s all fantasy thinking, that numerous other scenarios could have occurred. 

   

I recall in my mid-twenties dating a guy who was developing a widow’s peak hairline leading me to assume he was older than me, a belief he reinforced.  When he finally revealed that he was, in fact, several years my junior, I was not only surprised but bothered by that difference, partly because he had been less than honest with me.  I’m not sure now why our age difference concerned me, beyond the fact he mis-lead me in the first place, though I did wonder what else he might avoid the truth about.   But for some reason I do recall being bothered that he was younger which seems not to matter to me now.   In the long run it wasn’t an issue since we eventually mutually ended our relationship. 

Then, there was the occasion when I was in my seventh decade, continuing to work.  I periodically interacted at my work site with a much younger person that was especially enjoyable for several reasons, including we shared a similar sense of humor.   I was pleased when in time that person’s administrative skills and talents were recognized, resulting in their advancement to a responsible higher level position.  We continued to kibbitz as before on those generally less frequent occasions when we met. 

Then, one day our conversation somehow resulted in my incidentally, but casually, mentioning my age.  I’ll never forget the startled look on my friend’s face, who after a long pause, commented, ”I thought you were about the same age as me.”  I don’t know what significance this difference made to my friend as nothing was altered for me.  I had always had a variety of friends on the age range spectrum. 

I do know that from that day forward, whenever we came in contact the person became very formal, kept the interaction brief.   So, I respected the invisible line that was being drawn for whatever the reasons. 

Have you ever encountered an individual or situation when age difference had significance to you, them or both of you? 

IF ONLY OR WHAT IF -- FISHY -- EAGLET DIET

Big Bear Bald Eaglets Fishy Diet: 

   Continuing Up Date

Mama Jackie brings in a live fish - gives new meaning to sushi's sashimi.  Cookie whines, then feeding begins also with Simba.  Papa Shadow arrives with another fish.  Eaglets are rapidly growing in size -- dark feathers appear to be emerging from fluffy fuzz.   Weather conditions have been trending cooler than normal with periodic wind and unusual rain for May.   Quick real-time glances of the nest I’ve taken during stormy times reveal parental efforts to shelter eaglets but they’re much larger now and generally are exposed.   

Live 24/7 Video Cam:  https://youtu.be/5b2dUgK6VV4

***
A question that persists for me:  
Is there something fishy continuing in the White House to undermine our democracy with the effort to centralize power there by weakening the other government branches coupled with neutralizing journalists (Fourth Estate) who report facts and truth? 

***

What If ..... If Only ..... Revisited .....

My recent May 5^th post and comments querying whether or not a spouse affects what one thinks of as success reminded me of this.  This is a refresh with some editing of a July 2007 post. 

Occasionally through the years, in moments of contemplation, I've thought about how an individual’s life might be different from the one they have, based on circumstantial changes in their activities, events, residences, other variables, earlier in their life.

What if, at various times, anywhere along the way, the twists and turns of choices and changes affecting them were made in directions other than the ones they did experience, thus leading to different outcomes or destinations?

I don't think about this for myself, generally, from a sense of regret. I think about it more from a standpoint of curiosity. I wonder how others view that question? 

I've thought, wouldn't life be interesting if we could just put on hold whatever our existence was at a given time. Then, we could go off on an alternate route, full well knowing we could come back to the place we were before if we chose, then resume life where we left off.  I guess that would require a quite different life dimension for each of us since we would be affecting so many other lives.  Perhaps that could be possible ..... in science fiction. 

As for myself, I experienced events at four or five years of age I would like to have avoided on both a personal and family level.    An accident that comes to mind I only recall based on the details my mother described to me.  I was perched behind the rider's seat reveling in the moment when my foot became entangled with the spokes of a moving bicycle wheel.   The wheel spokes penetrated my ankle, though thankfully left me with only a large scar present yet today. What if... I hadn’t tried to find a foot rest for my tired dangling little legs, which resulted in me instead catching my foot in those bicycle spokes?

What if, some other changes, experiences, relocations, in my life hadn't occurred? For example:

What if... my birth family had remained intact?   My experience of having my birth father remaining in our home could have offered me a different perspective on relationships.

What if... I had grown up and stayed in my birth city, or even the same state?   My circle of friends might have continued to be more centered on those there.   I did retain one life long friend until she died a couple years ago, even though we had both left.   But all the other friends I’ve made in subsequent relocations around the country I would never have known.

What if... my mother had not had some of the medical/sensory problems she developed? My life would have been affected differently if she had been able to return to her teaching profession, or even expanded differently on her other skills and artistic talents. 

What if... I had been able to continue my music, dancing classes, develop other potential career interests and attend the private university to which I aspired?   My life career choices might have been quite different.    

What if... I had never lived for a few years in the country exposed to nature as a major companion?   My appreciation and understanding of the environment and nature might stem from quite a different perspective as a primarily city girl. 

What if... I hadn't had to give away my dog when we moved?  My memory would be relieved of that emotional loss that I feel yet today.

What if... I had been allowed to accept the offer to ride a horse in Tucson, Arizona's annual western parade in that southwestern state to which we had just moved across country?   I would have treasured memories -- assuming there were no incidents with which this inexperienced rider might have had to cope – which is why my mother didn’t give me permission.   She apologized for this in later life – but I reassured her she probably made the wise decision. 

What if... a generous family member hadn’t offered to loan me the money to attend college in a day when there were no community colleges, scholarships were limited, student loans were unavailable?  I was so determined I would have explored other means.   I recall that  included the possibility of enlisting in a branch of the armed forces, despite the negative attitude of some in that time toward women in the military.  

What if... I hadn't made what later seemed like foolish mistakes on occasion?  What if... I hadn't had those instances in speaking when I "put my foot in my mouth"?   What if... I hadn’t met some of the people I’ve met, or I had met some others I didn’t meet?   What if... so many more "what ifs" that I could mention.

There is one interesting observation I've made over the years whenever I’ve heard most people engage in "What if...?" speculation as I've mentioned here previously. Invariably, whatever the past event or previous experience about which they are speculating, their assumption is that the result would have turned out better for them, "If only ...?"

How would my life have been different “if only…”?   Would my life have been “better” – whatever that means?  I wonder, do others ever consider the possibility the consequences just might have been much less desirable when they envision their “What if…” and "If only..."scenario?